The little man had come up behind his friend, and was looking down, his eyes intent upon something.
“Lord!” he said suddenly, “I’ve found a hidin’-place.”
The other stared.
“The devil you have!” said he. “You’ve touched nothing. ’Tis like ‘Sit down when you see the rabbit’s tail.’”
He glanced nervously, once or twice as he spoke, into the recess above his head.
“Well, I’ll lay odds,” said Sir David, “that I’ll show you somethin’ in that cupboard you never guessed at before.”
The wardrobe—or the half of it exposed—was filled with coats, small-clothes, and other articles of a gentleman’s attire. But these hung high, and a space intervened between the skirts of them and the floor of the interior. Into this space the visitor plunged his head, and, dropping on his knees, ran his fingers in a hurried, nervous way along the ornamental jambs and the beading of the door-sill. Satisfied, apparently, he nipped this last and gave it a vigorous jerk and pull. There was a click—a snap; and the floor of the half-cupboard shot up, an inch open, like the lid of a box.
Sir David fell back on his knees, trembling all over with excitement.
“What did I tell you?” he cried. “I’d seen another like it, and guessed the secret. ’Tis your business to look within. Zounds, Tuke, make haste!”
His flurry would brook no delay, though the other was bending above him quite white with agitation; so it happened they both put down their hands together and tore open the flap.