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while he disembarked and then went back into the sala to meet him。
When he came up however I naturally left Miss Tita to go off with him alone；
only asking her leave to come back later for news。
I went out of the house and took a long walk； as far as the Piazza；
where my restlessness declined to quit me。 I was unable to sit down
（it was very late now but there were people still at the little
tables in front of the cafes）； I could only walk round and round；
and I did so half a dozen times。 I was uncomfortable； but it gave
me a certain pleasure to have told Miss Tita who I really was。
At last I took my way home again； slowly getting all but
inextricably lost； as I did whenever I went out in Venice：
so that it was considerably past midnight when I reached my door。
The sala； upstairs； was as dark as usual and my lamp as I crossed
it found nothing satisfactory to show me。 I was disappointed；
for I had notified Miss Tita that I would come back for a report；
and I thought she might have left a light there as a sign。
The door of the ladies' apartment was closed； which seemed an intimation
that my faltering friend had gone to bed； tired of waiting for me。
I stood in the middle of the place； considering； hoping she would
hear me and perhaps peep out； saying to myself too that she would
never go to bed with her aunt in a state so critical； she would
sit up and watchshe would be in a chair； in her dressing gown。
I went nearer the door； I stopped there and listened。
I heard nothing at all and at last I tapped gently。
No answer came and after another minute I turned the handle。
There was no light in the room； this ought to have prevented me from
going in； but it had no such effect。 If I have candidly narrated
the importunities； the indelicacies； of which my desire to possess
myself of Jeffrey Aspern's papers had rendered me capable I need
not shrink from confessing this last indiscretion。 I think it was
the worst thing I did； yet there were extenuating circumstances。
I was deeply though doubtless not disinterestedly anxious for more
news of the old lady； and Miss Tita had accepted from me； as it were；
a rendezvous which it might have been a point of honor with me to keep。
It may be said that her leaving the place dark was a positive sign
that she released me； and to this I can only reply that I desired
not to be released。
The door of Miss Bordereau's room was open and I could see beyond it the
faintness of a taper。 There was no soundmy footstep caused no one to stir。
I came further into the room； I lingered there with my lamp in my hand。
I wanted to give Miss Tita a chance to come to me if she were with her aunt；
as she must be。 I made no noise to call her； I only waited to see
if she would not notice my light。 She did not； and I explained this
（I found afterward I was right） by the idea that she had fallen asleep。
If she had fallen asleep her aunt was not on her mind； and my explanation
ought to have led me to go out as I had come。 I must repeat again that it
did not； for I found myself at the same moment thinking of something else。
I had no definite purpose； no bad intention； but I felt myself held
to the spot by an acute； though absurd； sense of opportunity。
For what I could not have said； inasmuch as it was not in my mind
that I might commit a theft。 Even if it had been I was confronted
with the evident fact that Miss Bordereau did not leave her secretary；
her cupboard； and the drawers of her tables gaping。 I had no keys；
no tools； and no ambition to smash her furniture。 Nonetheless it came
to me that I was now； perhaps alone； unmolested； at the hour of temptation
and secrecy； nearer to the tormenting treasure than I had ever been。
I held up my lamp； let the light play on the different objects as if it
could tell me something。 Still there came no movement from the other room。
If Miss Tita was sleeping she was sleeping sound。 Was she doing so
generous creatureon purpose to leave me the field？ Did she know
I was there and was she just keeping quiet to see what I would do
what I COULD do？ But what could I do； when it came to that？
She herself knew even better than I how little。
I stopped in front of the secretary； looking at it
very idiotically； for what had it to say to me after all？
In the first place it was locked； and in the second it
almost surely contained nothing in which I was interested。
Ten to one the papers had been destroyed； and even if they
had not been destroyed the old woman would not have put them
in such a place as that after removing them from the green trunk
would not have transferred them； if she had the idea of their
safety on her brain； from the better hiding place to the worse。
The secretary was more conspicuous； more accessible
in a room in which she could no longer mount guard。
It opened with a key； but there was a little brass handle；
like a button； as well； I saw this as I played my lamp over it。
I did something more than this at that moment：
I caught a glimpse of the possibility that Miss Tita wished me
really to understand。 If she did not wish me to understand；
if she wished me to keep away； why had she not locked the door
of communication between the sitting room and the sala？ That
would have been a definite sign that I was to leave them alone。
If I did not leave them alone she meant me to come for a purpose
a purpose now indicated by the quick； fantastic idea that to oblige
me she had unlocked the secretary。 She had not left the key；
but the lid would probably move if I touched the button。
This theory fascinated me； and I bent over very close to judge。
I did not propose to do anything； not evennot in the least
to let down the lid； I only wanted to test my theory；
to see if the cover WOULD move。 I touched the button
with my handa mere touch would tell me； and as I did so （it is
embarrassing for me to relate it）； I looked over my shoulder。
It was a chance； an instinct； for I had not heard anything。
I almost let my luminary drop and certainly I stepped back；
straightening myself up at what I saw。 Miss Bordereau stood
there in her nightdress； in the doorway of her room； watching me；
her hands were raised； she had lifted the everlasting
curtain that covered half her face； and for the first；
the last； the only time I beheld her extraordinary eyes。
They glared at me； they made me horribly ashamed。
I never shall forget her strange little bent white tottering
figure； with its lifted head； her attitude； her expression；
neither shall I forget the tone in which as I turned；
looking at her； she hissed out passionately； furiously：
〃Ah； you publishing scoundrel！〃
I know not what I stammered； to excuse myself； to explain；
but I went toward her； to tell her I meant no harm。
She waved me off with her old hands； retreating before me in horror；
and the next thing I knew she had fallen back with a quick spasm；
as if death had descended on her； into Miss Tita's arms。