could not have done other than as he did. Consciously he believed
himself to be merely testing the girl; subconsciously he was
plastic in the grip of an emotion stronger than he,--moist clay
upon the potter's whirling wheel.

The interior of the safe was revealed in a shape little different
from that of the ordinary household strong-box. There were several
account-books, ledgers, and the like, together with some packages
of docketed bills, in the pigeon-holes. The cash-box, itself a
safe within a safe, showed a blank face broken by a small
combination dial. Behind this, in a secreted compartment, the
Maitland heirlooms languished, half-forgotten of their heedless
owner.

The cash-box combination offered less difficulty than had the
outer dial. Maitland had it open in a twinkling. Then, brazenly
lifting out the inner framework, bodily, he thrust a fumbling hand
into the aperture thus disclosed and pressed the spring, releasing
the panel at the back. It disappeared as though by witchcraft, and
the splash of light from the bull's-eye discovered a canvas bag
squatting humbly in the secret compartment: a fat little canvas
bag, considerably soiled from much handling, such as is used by
banks for coin, a sturdy, matter-of-fact, every-day sort of canvas
bag, with nothing about it of hauteur, no air of self-importance
or ostentation, to betray the fact that it was the receptacle of a
small fortune.

At Maitland's ear, incredulous, "How did you guess?" she breathed.

He took thought and breath, both briefly, and prevaricated