He opened the door.
No Gerard.
Ghysbrecht stood stupefied.
Although his face was not visible, his body seemed to lose all motion in so peculiar a way, and then after a little he fell trembling so, that the servant behind him saw there was something amiss, and crept close to him and peeped over his shoulder.

At sight of the empty cell, and the rope, and iron bar, he uttered a loud exclamation of wonder; but his surprise doubled when his master, disregarding all else, suddenly flung himself on his knees before the empty chest, and felt wildly all over it with quivering hands, as if unwilling to trust his eyes in a matter so important.
The servant gazed at him in utter bewilderment.
"Why, master, what is the matter ?" Ghysbrecht's pale lips worked as if he was going to answer; but they uttered no sound: his hands fell by his side, and he stared into the chest.
"Why, master, what avails glaring into that empty box?
The lad is not there.

See here! note the cunning of the young rogue; he hath taken out the bar, and--" "GONE! GONE! GONE!" "Gone! What is gone, Holy saints! he is planet-struck!" "STOP THIEF!" shrieked Ghysbrecht, and suddenly turned, on his servant and collared him, and shook him with rage.

"D'ye stand there, knave, and see your master robbed?
Run! fly! A hundred crowns to him that finds it me again.

No, no! 'tis in vain.