"We may as well overhaul him a bit more," said he, and resumed
his search. My hope vanished, for now he was bound to come upon
the letter.
Another instant brought him to it. He snatched the pocketbook,
and, motioning impatiently to the man to hold the lantern nearer,
he began to examine the contents. I remember well the look of his
face as the fierce white light threw it up against the darkness
in its clear pallor and high-bred comeliness, with its curling
lips and scornful eyes. He had the letter now, and a gleam of joy
danced in his eyes as he tore it open. A hasty glance showed him
what his prize was; then, coolly and deliberately he settled
himself to read, regarding neither Rischenheim's nervous hurry
nor my desperate, angry glance that glared up at him. He read
leisurely, as though he had been in an armchair in his own house;
the lips smiled and curled as he read the last words that the
queen had written to her lover. He had indeed come on more than
he thought.
Rischenheim laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Quick, Rupert, quick," he urged again, in a voice full of
agitation.
"Let me alone, man. I haven't read anything so amusing for a long
while," answered Rupert.
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