a lantern, and then conducted us down a dark, earth-smelling passage, and so,

after opening a third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which was piled all

round with crates and massive boxes.


“You are not very vulnerable from above,” Holmes remarked as he

held up the lantern and gazed about him.


“Nor from below,” said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon

the flags which lined the floor. “Why, dear me, it sounds quite

hollow!” he remarked, looking up in surprise.


“I must really ask you to be a little more quiet!” said Holmes

severely. “You have already imperilled the whole success of our

expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit down upon one

of those boxes, and not to interfere?”


The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a very injured

expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his knees upon the floor and,

with the lantern and a magnifying lens, began to examine minutely the cracks

between the stones. A few seconds sufficed to satisfy him, for he sprang to his

feet again and put his glass in his pocket.


“We have at least an hour before us,” he remarked, “for they

can hardly take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. Then they

will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their work the longer time they

will have for their escape. We are at present, Doctor—as no doubt you

have divined—in the cellar of the City branch of one of the principal

London banks. Mr. Merryweather is the chairman of directors, and he will

explain to you that there are reasons why the more daring criminals of London

should take a considerable interest in this cellar at present.”


“It is our French gold,” whispered the director. “We have had

several warnings that an attempt might be made upon it.”


“Your French gold?”


“Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources and

borrowed for that purpose 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of France. It has