He opened his window. It opened on a court. Outside, everything
was dark and quiet. He took from his desk a knotted rope, fastened
it to the balcony in front of his window, and quietly descended as
far as the window below, which was that of the of Imbert's office.
He stood upon the balcony for a moment, motionless, with attentive
ear and watchful eye, but the heavy curtains effectually concealed
the interior of the room. He cautiously pushed on the double
window. If no one had examined it, it ought to yield to the
slightest pressure, for, during the afternoon, he had so fixed the
bolt that it would not enter the staple.
The window yielded to his touch. Then, with infinite care, he
pushed it open sufficiently to admit his head. He parted the
curtains a few inches, looked in, and saw Mon. Imbert and his wife
sitting in front of the safe, deeply absorbed in their work and
speaking softly to each other at rare intervals.
He calculated the distance between him and them, considered the
exact movements he would require to make in order to overcome them,
one after the other, before they could call for help, and he was
about to rush upon them, when Madame Imbert said:
"Ah! the room is getting quite cold.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202