Ten minutes after the rise of the curtain on the fourth act I was in the dressing-room, presenting the maid with a gold locket which I had bought from a cheapjack’s barrow for five and twenty francs—­almost the last of the fifty which I had received from M. Duval on account.  The damsel was eyeing the locket somewhat disdainfully and giving me grudging thanks for it when there came a hurried knock at the door.  The next moment Theodore poked his ugly face into the room.  He, too, had taken the precaution of assuming an excellent disguise—­peaked cap set aslant over one eye, grimy face, the blouse of a scene-shifter.

“Mlle. Mars,” he gasped breathlessly; “she has been taken ill—­on the stage—­very suddenly.  She is in the wings—­asking for her maid.  They think she will faint.”

The damsel rose, visibly frightened.

“I’ll come at once,” she said, and without the slightest flurry she picked up the key of the safe and slipped it into her pocket.  I fancied that she gave me a look as she did this.  Oh, she was a pearl among Abigails!  Then she pointed unceremoniously to the door.

“Milor!” was all she said, but of course I understood.  I had no idea that English milors could be thus treated by pert maidens.  But what cared I for social amenities just then?  My hand had closed over the duplicate key of the safe, and I walked out of the room in the wake of the damsel.  Theodore had disappeared.

Once in the passage, the girl started to run.  A second or two later I heard the patter of her high-heeled shoes down the stone stairs.  I had not a moment to lose.

To slip back into the dressing-room was but an instant’s work.  The next I was kneeling in front of the chest.  The key fitted the lock accurately; one turn, and the lid flew open.

The chest was filled with a miscellaneous collection of theatrical properties all lying loose—­showy necklaces, chains, pendants, all of them obviously false; but lying beneath them, and partially hidden by the meretricious ornaments, were one or two boxes covered with velvet such as jewellers use.  My keen eyes noted these at once.  I was indeed in luck!  For the moment, however, my hand fastened on a leather case which reposed on the top in one corner, and which very obviously, from its shape, contained a bracelet.  My hands did not tremble, though I was quivering with excitement.  I opened the case.  There, indeed, was the bracelet—­the large green stones, the magnificent gold setting, the whole jewel dazzlingly beautiful.  If it were real—­the thought flashed through my mind—­it would be indeed priceless.  I closed the case and put it on the dressing-table beside me.  I had at least another minute to spare—­sixty seconds wherein to dive for those velvet-covered boxes which—­ My hand was on one of them when a slight noise caused me suddenly to turn and to look behind me.  It all happened as quickly as a flash of lightning.  I just saw a man disappearing through the door.  One glance at the dressing-table showed me the whole extent of my misfortune.  The case containing the bracelet had gone, and at that precise moment I heard a commotion from the direction of the stairs and a woman screaming at the top of her voice:  “Thief!  Stop thief!”