of value--several miniatures, a couple of gold
snuff-boxes, a small box of Limoges enamel, and the like, while "The
American" was busy with his skeleton keys at the drawers of the big
writing-table.

Suddenly he beckoned to Adolphe, and the latter, as he approached, saw
that he had succeeded in opening one of the small drawers. Within was a
secret cavity known to the thief, for he had twice watched the German
spy take money from it.

There was a spring at the back of the drawer, and as "The Eel" directed
the rays of light inside, his companion fingered it, with the result
that of a sudden a portion of the wood fell back and from within the
other drew out a large bundle of French thousand-franc notes secured by
an elastic band.

With a low whistle Ansell, with gloating eyes, slipped them into his
breast pocket.

Then, diving his hand in again, he drew out several handsome bracelets
set with diamonds and emeralds, two strings of matched pearls, a diamond
and platinum pendant, a muff-chain set with diamonds, and a child's
coral necklace--the jewellery belonging to the Baron's dead wife and his
little daughter--which he kept concealed there--a relic of a long-past
domestic happiness.

With scarce a glance at the valuables, the thief thrust them into his
pocket.

Eagerly they cleared the secret space behind the back of the drawer.
There were three other bank-notes lying loose, about twenty golden
louis, two ruby rings, and lastly a safe-key, which Ralph held up in
triumph, whispering:

"What about the Baron's secret correspondence--eh?"

"Where's the safe?" asked his companion.

"Upstairs--in his room, I expect. It is not here."

Then, leaving the drawer open, Ralph Ansell crossed the room and,
opening his big clasp-knife, the blade of which was as sharp as a razor,
he commenced to slash vigorously at the pale green silk upholstery of
the couch and easy chairs. He was angry and vicious in his attacks upon
the furniture, cutting and slashing everywhere in his triumph over the
man who had refused to further assist him.

"The Eel" watched without uttering a remark. He had seen such explosions
of anger before on the part of his companion when they were doing other
"jobs." It is, indeed, well known to criminologists and to all police
officials that the average burglar is never satisfied with mere theft,
however great may be his _coup_, but that some force impels him to spend
time in committing wanton damage to the