The Daughter of an Empress

He has now reached the house. He listens for a moment, and as

all remains still, no suspicious noise making itself heard, with

pitch-covered paper, brought with him for the purpose, he presses in one

of the window panes. Then, passing his hand through the vacancy caused

by the absent pane of glass, he opens one wing of the French window,

and, by a bold leap springing upon the parapet, he lets himself glide

slowly down into the room.

Again all is still, and silent lies the solitary, peaceful villa.

Suddenly appears a small but bright light behind one of these dark

windows.

That is the thief's lantern, which Joseph Ribas has lighted to

illuminate his dark, criminal way.

He cautiously ascends the stairs leading to the second story, and not a

step jars under his feet, not one, nor does the slightest noise betray

him.

He is now above, in the long corridor. Approaching the first door, he

listens long. He hears a loud breathing--some one sleeps within. With

one sole quick movement he turns the key remaining in the lock. The door

is now locked, and the sleeper within remains undisturbed. Joseph creeps

along to the next door, and again he listens to ascertain if there be

anything stirring within. But no, he hears nothing! All is still behind

the door.

He draws a pistol from his girdle, cocks it, and, thus prepared to

resist every attack, he suddenly opens the door. No one is in the room,

no one but Joseph Ribas the thief, who, with flashing eyes, suspiciously

and carefully examines every hole and corner.

But no, no one is there. Calm and sure, Joseph Ribas, steps into the

room, drawing and bolting the door behind him. No one can now surprise

him, no one can fall upon him from behind. But yes, there is also a

door on each side, right and left. He listens at the first, he thinks he

hears a light breathing; here also he quickly shoves a bolt and passes

over to the other door, which stands ajar. Cautiously he pushes it open

and looks in. A small, dull lamp is burning there, lighting the lovely

face of the sleeping Princess Natalie.

"That is she!" low murmured Ribas, as with eager glances he observes

the young and charming maiden. He is drawn forward as if with invisible

bands--he penetrates into this sacred asylum of the slumbering maiden.

But he forcibly checks his advance. "I have sworn not to touch her,

and I will keep my word, that I may secure my epaulets!" he muttered to

himself, and, retreating into the first chamber, he bolts the door, to

make all sure, that leads into Natalie's chamber.

"Now to the work!" said he, with decision. "Here stands the bureau, the

treasure must be here."