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 furniture. It was so with Ralph Ansell. He hated the Baron, therefore he slashed his furniture. In many other homes he had acted in a similar way, just as, indeed, Bonnemain always acted, carrying a keen knife for the purpose. "Shall we risk going to his room?" whispered Adolphe, who approached him. "Of course, my friend. A few of those papers will be worth thousands of francs to us," he replied in a low breath. "This is the job of our lives, _mon vieux_. I daresay there are papers there which the German Government would buy back at any price we chose to put on them." "All right, then," was "The Eel's" reply. "If there's no great risk, then let us have a try." "You've got your revolver--eh?" "No. I never carry one now," was Adolphe's response. "Never mind, I've got one; and I shall shoot--if necessary," Ralph replied. "I mean to have those papers at all costs. So don't lose your head." "I never do." "_Bien!_ Then to work."