Suddenly another thought seemed to have occurred to her. "You knew," she said. "You must have known, and yet you did not tell me." "My dear Inez," he said. "How could I, when my suspicions were directed against your own husband?" "But why do I think of myself?" she said. "I am nothing. But it is you--you, that my heart bleeds for. I, too, concealed my suspicions for your sake." "And you can think of me," he said, "at a time like this?" "Of course," she replied. "Yours is the greater sorrow. I knew that my husband was bad--worthless--capable of anything. My eyes are only proving what my reason told me must be so. But with you, it is so much harder. This is the woman you loved, and, whom loving, you must have made your ideal. And now to find that she is--this." And she pressed his hand silently. "Don't talk about it," said the Secretary. "You don't quite understand." "But what is to be done?" she said. "Nothing, unless they show signs of success, and that I do not think likely. If the secret of the door has withstood the ingenuity of generations in the past, it is likely to do so in the future, unless they tried to force it, and that I think they'd hardly dare to do." "Listen," she said. And the Secretary heard a noise of creaking, straining wood. "They are trying to force it!" he cried, springing up and looking through the window. And she, following his lead, saw that Darcy was working with might and main with some burglar's tool after the nature of a lever. But though the old oaken door groaned in protest at such treatment, it never gave an inch, and the Colonel, removing his instrument, made a gesture of despair, and stood wiping the sweat from his brow. "What does this all mean?" said Madame Darcy, as they slipped down again into their place of concealment. "It means," said the Secretary shortly, "that your husband's secret instructions are behind that door, and from his eagerness to get them I should say that they contain a cipher of something that cannot be duplicated in the time at his command." "I do not understand," she said. "Well, if you must know the truth," he replied, "he's to take over the specie needed to defeat the treaty, and to get there in time he must sail from England in a few days." She nodded mournfully. "I supposed it was something like that," she said. "I knew Mr. Riddle had brought the gold. It is here." "No," he said, "it's in the Victoria Street Branch of the Bank of England, in London." "How was it sent up?" "Lieutenant Kingsland took it." "Is he a member of the conspiracy?" "It appears so--but I am not certain. He may be an innocent dupe," replied the Secretary. "And you let the specie go?" she asked. "Yes," he said. "When I discovered where they were sending the chests I helped them. It's safer in the Bank than knocking round here, and I can prevent its being drawn out any time I wish." "By the arrest of the conspirators?" she said.