reilly’s story was a strange one. although he had suffered imprisonment as a rogue—no burglarious instruments being found upon him—i could do nothing else than congratulate him upon his firm determination not to expose his hand. but the incident was no good augury for the future.
we were, of course, in possession of a fact that might prove of greatest use to us. he had seen the murdered man with his own eyes, although the identity of the victim was at present a mystery. miss bristowe knew him, too, and from her i hoped one day to obtain information as to who he really was.
although philip had passed through an exciting time, it had been by no means a futile one, for he had witnessed certain events which gave us true and adequate knowledge of what manner of persons we had to deal with. it was my friend’s belief that miss bristowe and the man who had conducted her to that house had left before the accident had occurred to him, and further, that the other three men, having left in a cab with the travelling trunk and its gruesome contents, remained in ignorance of his discovery by the neighbours, who were awakened by the crash.
we could, of course, fix the house wherein the assassination had taken place from the report in the police books regarding the discovery of reilly, but, as he most wisely pointed out, the story of the murder would never be believed, and if he gave information—first, no traces would be found, and secondly, we should only prematurely betray our knowledge to our enemies.
so we resolved to remain, for the present, silent. i saw now quite well the reason of the tragic vein in the character of the sweet girl who had so charmed me. i alone knew the secret of how the man, who was probably her lover, had been murdered in cold blood by those scoundrels, who had carried their fiendishness so far as to compel her to touch the corpse.
i dressed the cut on reilly’s face, for it appeared that on coming out of prison that morning he had taken off the bandage, although the doctor had forbidden him to do so. believing that i must still be on guard at caldecott, he had paid visits to several other people before coming to me. on hearing that the kenways were leaving the manor on the morrow, he was instantly keen on travelling down there and taking possession of the place.
he slept on the couch in my sitting-room, and next morning, at ten o’clock, we left london for rockingham, having previously laid in a stock of various necessaries, including lamps, cord, candles, and matches, which we did not wish to purchase in the village.
at one o’clock we were back in our pleasant rustic quarters in the sonde arms, where we lunched off cold beef, bread, and ale, and then walked over to caldecott, arriving there just before the van containing the household goods of the kenways was driven away. the insurance agent and his wife were anxious to depart, therefore, after a hurried conversation, they gave me over the keys, and we watched the van lumber noisily out upon the highway over the moss-grown cobbles.
so we were left in possession of a rather dirty house minus a scrap of furniture. indeed, it was only then that we were awakened to the fact that it would be necessary to obtain at least a table, a couple of camp bedsteads, and a couple of chairs, if we intended to inhabit the place.
leaving reilly in possession i hired a trap at the plough, drove to uppingham, and there purchased the necessary equipment of a cheap and temporary character, not forgetting a couple of drinking glasses, of course.
all were delivered by seven o’clock that night, and working in our shirt sleeves we cleaned out one of the big upstairs rooms and set up the narrow little beds, one in each corner. at first we thought of taking separate rooms, but decided that if any midnight attack were made upon us it would be best if we were in company.
we made a big wood fire in the room to air the mattresses and blankets, and filled two pails with water from the pump wherewith to perform our matutinal ablutions. imagine how excited we were, possessors of a house wherein a great and valuable treasure awaited our discovery.
in order to avert village gossip we explained at the plough that mr. reilly’s furniture was coming from southampton, and what we had purchased was for temporary accommodation. but poor reilly’s face, i still remember, was an ugly picture with the deep red scar where the glass roof had cut him. we made arrangements at the plough to take our meals there, except tea, which we could brew ourselves, and it was nearly midnight when, sitting out in the garden yawning, we knocked out our pipes and went up to bed. hours before we had been round to examine the catches and locks of doors and windows, and to fasten them; therefore we retired with a certain feeling that all was secure.
beyond the thumping and squealing of rats beneath the boards, nothing disturbed our peace and we rose early, prepared to make our first tour of inspection. therefore, after a wash and shave, we each took hammer and chisel from the box i had sent on in advance, and together had a superficial look round.
by tapping the panelling and walls we discovered dozens of hollow places, but a fact we had hitherto overlooked very soon occurred to us, that if we commenced to break down the walls we should injure the property to the tune of some hundreds of pounds, and be compelled to put it in order again; not a very bright out-look, especially as we had one of the chosen race as landlord.
one object we had to keep constantly in view was the satisfaction of the curiosity of the villagers. two men cannot take an empty house and live in it, almost devoid of furniture, without exciting some comments; hence our story of the furniture in transit from the south of england.
the whole of the first day we devoted to a careful survey of the upstairs rooms as being the most likely spot where the treasure was concealed. in one of them—the one reilly had suspected—the central room over the main entrance hall, the leopard rampant of da schorno was sculptured in marble over the big open fireplace, executed evidently by an italian hand. probably, when old bartholomew built the place or altered it according to his liking, he had with him one or two of his compatriots. to me it seemed as though one had been a sculptor, for on the stone balustrade of the stairs and around other fireplaces, wherein modern grates had since been placed, were fine specimens of sixteenth-century ornament.
on the following morning, after we had brewed our tea and boiled some eggs, we commenced investigations in that upstairs centre room, which had probably been at one time the best bedroom. the wall on the left, parting it from the next room, had attracted our attention, owing to its abnormal thickness, and when we sounded it with a hammer it seemed at one point to emit a hollow sound. this hollowness only extended for about two feet square, starting from the skirting-board.
we were neither carpenters nor plasterers, therefore we could not ourselves repair any damage that we might cause. but after some consultation we arrived at the conclusion that the only way was to make a thorough search, irrespective of consequences. therefore, with hammer and chisel, i started to break into what i hoped would be a secret cavity. as soon as i commenced i saw that the wall was plastered at that point, and not of stone as in other parts. this encouraged me, and aided by reilly we forced out the skirting-board, and had very soon made a considerable hole. the plaster was, however, fully six inches thick, and having penetrated it my chisel suddenly struck wood.
the dull sound caused the hearts of both of us to leap in expectation.
another blow and a great piece of plaster came away.
“why, there’s a door here!” i cried; “a small oak door that’s been fastened and plastered up.”
i stopped working while philip examined it. he agreed that it was a hard panel of oak, but whether of a door it was impossible to say.
again i resumed work, and within a quarter of an hour had laid bare the square strong door of a cupboard.
reilly, by this time, was literally dancing with excitement. what, we wondered, could be contained therein?
it certainly had not been opened for centuries. indeed, although the small door had long iron hinges stretching nearly right across it, there seemed no sign of lock or bolt.
“the way it’s closed is a secret, depend upon it, doctor,” my companion cried. “i really believe the treasure’s in here. fancy digging out this at the first trial!”
but, myself, i was not so sanguine. i preferred to work steadily without undue excitement, for i saw that in such an investigation quietness and method were essential to success.
i don’t, of course, deny that i was actually on the tiptoe of expectation, for i, like mr. staffurth and philip, had arrived at the firm conclusion that if the old italian’s treasure still existed it was hidden somewhere in that house.
therefore, at any blow of the hammer, the secret, so well guarded through three hundred years, might become revealed to us.
the clouds of white dust that i had raised rendered it thirsty work; therefore philip, on going downstairs for the pickaxe, also brought up a bottle of ale, which we drank with avidity—from the bottle. that closed door proved a more formidable barrier than we had anticipated. of well-seasoned oak, it was studded with rusty nails, and resisted all our efforts to prise it open. there was no lock, so far as we could see, nor any bolt; only the two long rusty hinges. again and again we tried to insert a crowbar between the lintel and the door, but although both of us toiled through the greater part of the morning the door would not budge.
reilly, with his long, athletic arms, attacked it with the pick, but the noise he made sounded through the empty house like the explosion of bombshells, and the dust raised was suffocating. all these efforts being futile, we resolved to cut the door out bodily, and with that object i commenced with centre-bit at a spot where the lock would, in ordinary circumstances, be situated. i drilled and drilled, slowly cutting a circular hole in the wood, and had penetrated to a depth of fully four inches when a harsh grating sound told us the unwelcome truth.
the back of the door was covered by an iron plate.
“we can’t cut it; that’s very certain!” i declared, withdrawing the drill. on examining the hole by aid of a candle i could see where the drill had cut a scratch on the face of the plate. i sounded the iron with a small crowbar and noted that it seemed of considerable thickness. moreover, it was probably bolted to the woodwork by the nails which studded the side of the door towards us.
“there must be something inside,” reilly declared. “no one would have taken such precaution if there was nothing of value within. let’s persevere!”
“of course,” i agreed, “but we must proceed scientifically; it’s useless working in the dark. now, my own idea is that we might perhaps cut away the wall on the side where the door is fastened and thus get a hole for leverage. i believe that’s the only way.”
reilly was of similar opinion, therefore we both set to work with a will, i holding the chisel and my companion swinging the heavy hammer. the plaster was, of course, soon cut out, but when we came to the rough stone of the wall our hard work commenced. by dint of constant labour, with pick and crowbar, we gradually loosened one of the larger stones, and in half an hour had levered it out upon the floor of the room.
it carried us but little farther, for the stone wall was far thicker than we anticipated. it had been built in a day long before contract jobs and jerry builders were known, and by men who constructed houses intended to last through centuries. there was no single brick in the whole place, only stone, of that kind known as barnack rag.
the loosening of the first stone was hardest of all, and it being near one o’clock, our luncheon hour at the plough, we washed, tidied ourselves, and sauntered along to the inn, smoking cigarettes, as though nothing had occurred. our hands itched to be back at work again, but, having to act with circumspection in order not to betray the nature of our operations, we were compelled to eat our meal leisurely.
soon after two we went eagerly back again, and stone after stone we succeeded in removing, until we obtained sufficient space between the stone and the door to allow of leverage.
then, inserting our strongest crowbar, which was about four feet long and had a curved end, we both bore all our weight against it to break the door from its unseen fastenings. time after time, yo-hoing like sailors and springing our full weight upon the bar, we endeavoured to force the stout old door, but alas! to no avail.
it then occurred to us that it opened into the room wherein we stood, but on examination of the wall, now broken through to the size of half a man’s hand, we discovered that it opened either way.
suddenly another idea struck the ingenious reilly. we had a screw-jack, and perhaps by its use might be able to force the door inwards.
a long time elapsed before we could fix it sufficiently securely to bear the enormous strain, but presently we got it adjusted, and began turning it. then very soon the groaning of the old oak told its tremendous resistance and we steadily screwed on, until the creaking and splitting of the wood showed the enormous pressure it was still bearing.
of a sudden, however, without warning, there was a loud report like the explosion of a cannon, as the bolts were broken off in their sockets, and before us was open a dark hole from which a cloud of suffocating dust belched forth into the room.
