"The butler told me some such cock-and-bull story—but of course——"
"It's quite true."
"But I must have my letter. I must have it, I tell you—surely someone knows the secret."
"There's a legend current to the effect that the pressure of five of these silver nails, one by each of the five fingers, will suffice to open the door. But to my way of thinking it's likely to remain closed for two centuries to come."
"Curse it!" cried the Colonel, throwing himself against the portal in a frenzy. "It has neither handle nor keyhole, and it's as firm as iron! What am I to do?"
"If it's absolutely necessary to recover this document, I'll tell Mrs. Roberts. Though I should doubt if she'd consent to ruin an interesting heirloom for the sake of a gentleman against whom she already entertains a prejudice."
"I couldn't think of it. Impossible to put Mrs. Roberts to so much inconvenience; I shouldn't consider it for a moment! Let the cursed letter remain where it is!" replied the Colonel, evidently very much upset by this proposition.
"As I'd supposed, Colonel Darcy, you would prefer that the document should remain where it is, rather than it should pass, even temporarily, into any other hands than yours. Might I inquire if it's the one you received from Miss Fitzgerald."
"It is, of course, quite useless to attempt to deceive a diplomat," replied his companion, with a touch of temper which was not lost on Stanley, who answered composedly:
"I think you may be reasonably assured that your letter will never be found till you and it have long been dust, and till not only its importance, but its very meaning, have become unintelligible. You may consider it irrevocably lost, and so, as there's no further excuse for your remaining, Colonel Darcy, I'll wish you—good-night," and the Secretary threw open the great hall door.