“No sir.”
“One question more—”
But here Bertram was called out, and in the momentary stir occasioned by his departure, Hopgood allowed himself to glance at the box before him more intently than he had hitherto presumed to do. He saw it was unlocked, and his hands began to tremble. Mr. Sylvester’s voice recalled him to himself.
“You are a faithful man,” said that gentleman, continuing his speech of a minute before, “and as such we are ready to acknowledge you; but the most conscientious amongst us are sometimes led into indiscretions. Now have you ever through carelessness or by means of any inadvertence, revealed to anyone in or out of the bank, the particular combination by which the lock of the vault-door is at present opened?”
“No sir, indeed no; I am much too anxious, and feel my own responsibility entirely too much, not to preserve so important a secret with the utmost care and jealousy.”
Mr. Sylvester’s voice, careful as he was to modulate it, showed a secret discouragement. “The vaults then as far as you know, are safe when once they are closed for the night?”
“Yes sir.” The janitor’s face expressed a slight degree of wonder, but his voice was emphatic.
Mr. Sylvester’s eye travelled in the direction of the screen. “Very well,” said he; and paused to reflect.
In the interim the door opened for a second time. “A gentleman to see Mr. Stuyvesant,” said a voice.
With an air of relief the director hastily rose, and before Mr. Sylvester had realized his position, left the room and closed the door behind him.