“I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door.”


“Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and

wait.”


What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards it was but an hour and a

quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must have almost gone, and the

dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary and stiff, for I feared to

change my position; yet my nerves were worked up to the highest pitch of

tension, and my hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle

breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, heavier

in-breath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of the bank director.

From my position I could look over the case in the direction of the floor.

Suddenly my eyes caught the glint of a light.


At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it lengthened

out until it became a yellow line, and then, without any warning or sound, a

gash seemed to open and a hand appeared, a white, almost womanly hand, which

felt about in the centre of the little area of light. For a minute or more the

hand, with its writhing fingers, protruded out of the floor. Then it was

withdrawn as suddenly as it appeared, and all was dark again save the single

lurid spark which marked a chink between the stones.


Its disappearance, however, was but momentary. With a rending, tearing sound,

one of the broad, white stones turned over upon its side and left a square,

gaping hole, through which streamed the light of a lantern. Over the edge there

peeped a clean-cut, boyish face, which looked keenly about it, and then, with a

hand on either side of the aperture, drew itself shoulder-high and waist-high,

until one knee rested upon the edge. In another instant he stood at the side of

the hole and was hauling after him a companion, lithe and small like himself,

with a pale face and a shock of very red hair.


“It’s all clear,” he whispered. “Have you the chisel