che is, and I
don't want you to come, unless you feel quite able to attend to
business."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now for business," said Maurice, as he found himself in the street.
"I'll rest my poor head by a ride on the horse-cars."

First, however, he entered a small shop near by, over which was a sign,
M. FRINK, Locksmith.

The locksmith, wearing a dirty apron, looked up from his work.

"I have lost the key to my trunk," said Maurice.

"I can make you another," said the locksmith.

"I want to open it now. Haven't you got some already made?"

"Plenty. But how will you know the size?"

"Give me half a dozen to try, and I will bring back those that don't
suit."

"All right. Is your lock a large one?"

"Not very. About medium," said Maurice, hazarding a guess.

The locksmith picked out eight keys, of various sizes, and handed them
to Maurice.

"I will bring them back safe," said he.

"All right. I don't think you'll run off with them."

"Now for it," said Maurice. "I think one of these keys must fit."

He took the cars to a point only two squares distant from Gilbert's
boarding-house, and walked toward it. But, in order to change his
appearance, he applied to his upper lip a false black mustache, which
he had bought for the purpose, and, a little discomposed by his
dishonest intentions, walked up the steps and rang the bell. It was
opened directly by a servant.

"I am a friend of Mr. Grey's," said Maurice, putting on a bold face.
"He told me I might get his opera-glass."

This he said in an easy, confident manner, which imposed upon the girl.

"Do you know his room?" she asked.

"Yes, I know it," said Maurice. "Never mind about going up."

The servant went back to her work, and Maurice, his heart beating fast,
went up stairs on his dishonest errand. He had no difficulty in getting
into the room, for the door was not locked. The trunks were kept in the
bed-chamber, and he therefore went thither at once. One of the trunks
was a handsome one, made of sole-leather. This belonged to Mordaunt.
The other was plainer and smaller, and no doubt belonged to Gilbert.

Maurice got down on his knees and began to try his keys. The first did
not fit, neither did the second, nor the third. Indeed, it was only the
last that proved to be the right one. Maurice had feared the failure of
his plans, when success came.

"So far, so good," he said, and began eagerly to explore the contents.

First in order came a pi