There! the rug's replaced.

Quick! lead me to the baron's room--there's not a minute to waste." She took his hand and led him tiptoe through the darkness, and in another moment he was in the Baron de Carjorac's presence.
"Oh, monsieur, God for ever bless you!" exclaimed the broken old man, throwing himself on his knees before Cleek.
"Out with the light--out with the light!" exclaimed he, ducking down suddenly.

"Were you mad to keep it burning till I came, with that"-- pointing to a huge bay window opening upon a balcony--"uncurtained and the grounds, no doubt, alive with spies ?" Miss Lorne sprang to the table where the baron's reading-lamp stood, jerked the cord of the extinguisher, and darkness enveloped the room, darkness tempered only by the faint gleams of the moon streaming over the balcony, and through the panes of the uncurtained window.
Cleek, on his knees beside the kneeling baron, whipped a tiny electric torch from his pocket, and, shielding its flare with his scooped hands, flashed it upon the old man's face.
"Simple as rolling off a log--exactly like your pictures," he commented.
"I'll 'do' you as easily as I 'do' Clodoche--and I could 'do' him in the dark from memory.

Quick"-- snicking off the light of the electric torch and rising to his feet--"into your dressing-room, baron.

I want that suit of clothes; I want that ribbon, that cross--and I want them at once.