And he knew very well, too, did Kookoo, what the tenant would do. If he
did not know what he kept in the trunk, he knew what he kept behind it,
and he knew he would take enough of it to-night to make him sleep
soundly.
No one would ever have supposed Kookoo capable of a crime. He was too
fearfully impressed with the extra-hazardous risks of dishonesty; he was
old, too, and weak, and, besides all, intensely a coward. Nevertheless,
while it was yet two or three hours before daybreak, the sleep-forsaken
little man arose, shuffled into his garments, and in his stocking-feet
sought the corridor leading to 'Sieur George's apartment. The November
night, as it often does in that region, had grown warm and clear; the
stars were sparkling like diamonds pendent in the deep blue heavens, and
at every window and lattice and cranny the broad, bright moon poured
down its glittering beams upon the hoary-headed thief, as he crept along
the mouldering galleries and down the ancient corridor that led to
'Sieur George's chamber.
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