And, placing his dark lantern upon a table, he draws forth his picklock
and chisels, and commences breaking open the bureau. Right--this
thievish instinct has not deceived him, he has found all, all. Here is
the little box of sparkling diamonds, and here the full purses of money.
With a knavish smile, Joseph Ribas conceals the brilliants in his bosom,
and deposits the money in his capacious pockets.
"It is a pity that this is not mine," he muttered with a grin, "but
toward this count I must act as an honorable thief, and I have promised
to bring it all truly to him."
The work is completed, the malicious criminal act is performed. He can
now go, can again creep away from the house his feet have soiled.
Why does he not? Why does he linger in these rooms? Why directs he such
wild and eager glances to the door behind which Natalie sleeps?
He cannot withstand the temptation, and even at the risk of awaking
Natalie, he must see her once more! And, moreover, what had he to fear
from an isolated young girl? He will only have one more look at her.
Nothing more!
He noiselessly pushes back the bolt; noiselessly, upon tiptoe, with
closed lantern, he creeps into the room and to Natalie's bedside.
She is wonderfully beautiful, and she smiles in her slumber. How
charming is that placid face, that half-uncovered shoulder, that arm
thrown up over her head, where it is half concealed under her luxuriant
locks! Wonderfully beautiful is she. Dares he to touch that arm and
breathe a kiss, a very light kiss, upon those fragrant lips? Why not? No
one sees him, nor will Count Alexis Orloff ever know that his commands
have been disobeyed.
But as he bent down, as his breath comes only in light contact with her
cheek, she stirs! Maiden modesty never slumbers; it watches over the
sleeping girl, it protects her. It is her good genius who never deserts
her.
Drawing herself up, Natalie opens her eyes and starts up from her couch.
Then she sees a large, threatening masculine form close before her,
close before her that wildly-laughing face.
A shriek of terror and anguish bursts from her lips, and in a tone of
alarm she calls: "Carlo, Carlo! Help! help! Carlo! Save--"
More she did not say. With a wild rage, angry, and ashamed of his own
folly, Joseph Ribas rushes upon her.
"One more cry!" he threateningly said--"one more call for help, and I
will murder you!"
But at this moment a small curtained door which Ribas had not remarked
and hence not fastened, was suddenly opened, and Carlo rushed in.
"I am here, Natalie!--I am here!"
Rushing upon the stranger, and grasping him with gigantic strength, he
thrust him down from the bed.