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.”

And, placing his dark lantern upon a table, he draws forth his picklock and chisels, and commences breaking open the bureau.  Right—­this thievish instinct has not deceived him, he has found all, all.  Here is the little box of sparkling diamonds, and here the full purses of money.

With a knavish smile, Joseph Ribas conceals the brilliants in his bosom, and deposits the money in his capacious pockets.

“It is a pity that this is not mine,” he muttered with a grin, “but toward this count I must act as an honorable thief, and I have promised to bring it all truly to him.”

The work is completed, the malicious criminal act is performed.  He can now go, can again creep away from the house his feet have soiled.

Why does he not?  Why does he linger in these rooms?  Why directs he such wild and eager glances to the door behind which Natalie sleeps?

He cannot withstand the temptation, and even at the risk of awaking Natalie, he must see her once more!  And, moreover, what had he to fear from an isolated young girl?  He will only have one more look at her.  Nothing more!