But the next was locked, too—and the next, and the one after that, and the one beyond, and——Well, the fact is, they were all locked.
The children looked at each other in something quite like despair.
“I feel,” said the boy, “like a baffled burglar.”
“I feel,” said the girl, “as if I was just going to understand something. Oh, wait a minute; it’s coming. I think,” she added very slowly,—“I think it means if we go anywhere we’ve got to go wherever it was they wore those glorious stiff gold clothes. That’s what the chest’s open for; that’s what the others are locked for. See?”
“Then let’s put them on and go,” said Edred.
“IT HELD CLOTHES FAR RICHER THAN ANY THEY HAD SEEN YET.”
“I don’t think I want any more Tower of Londons,” said Elfrida doubtfully.
“I don’t mind what it is,” said Edred. “I’ve found out one thing. We always come safe out of it, whatever it is. And besides,” he added, remembering many talks with his good friend, Sir Walter Raleigh, “an English gentleman must be afraid of nothing save God and his conscience.”
“All right,” said Elfrida, laying hands on the chest-lid that hid the golden splendour. “You might help,” she said.