The young man shut up the book impetuously and flung himself into a chair opposite to Amos.
“I’ve found the entrance to the passage, I believe,” said he, “a wide grating under two feet of earth, with a couple of stone steps to be seen underneath.”
Amos started up with an exclamation of triumph.
“And I ought to be able to take full advantage of it, for I’m on my way to become a very finished scoundrel.”
He related the incidents of his discovery and of his interview with Lady Marion. Goodhare listened with the ugly look of covetousness in his eyes which had sometimes shocked Rees before now. When he had finished, Amos burst out into a laugh of hideous, satyr-like raillery.
“Don’t pretend to be ashamed of your conquest; that sort of modesty doesn’t deceive me. And I won’t distress you by asking for any details of the interview.”
Rees started up, his face flushed, his hair disordered, his whole bearing speaking of shame for himself, but also of indignation against his companion.
“You are making me a thief, Amos; you are making me a rascal; but you have not yet made me forget that I was born a gentleman,” said he.
The next moment, Amos meanwhile going on quietly with his poached eggs and bread and butter, the poor lad seemed to realize what an empty boast it was that he had uttered so proudly, and he sank down again in his chair and buried his face in his hands. But the fascination of the hidden treasure soon came over him again, driving out all other thoughts and feelings. Springing up once more, and leaning across the table to make his words more emphatic, he whispered:
“Goodhare, it’s all up with us. I left the grating exposed, and forgot to fill up the hole in the earth above it!”