I don't know where it's safe; I don't know where to put it. Take
it back, Noel--take it back!"
As those words escaped him, he walked to the buhl cabinet. He sat down
in the chair placed before it, and searched in the basket among his
keys. Magdalen softly followed him, and stood behind his chair, waiting
with the candle in her hand. He found the key, and unlocked the cabinet.
Without an instant's hesitation, he drew out a drawer, the second of a
row. The one thing in the drawer was a folded letter. He removed it, and
put it down before him on the table. "Take it back, Noel!" he repeated,
mechanically; "take it back!"
Magdalen looked over his shoulder and read these lines, traced in her
husband's handwriting, at the top of the letter: _To be kept in your own
possession, and to be opened by yourself only on the day of my decease.
Noel Vanstone._ She saw the words plainly, with the admiral's name and
the admiral's address written under them.
The Trust within reach of her hand! The Trust traced to its hiding-place
at last!
She took one step forward, to steal round his chair and to snatch the
letter from the table. At the instant when she moved, he took it up once
more, locked the cabinet, and, rising, turned and faced her.
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