‘Then I am afraid we are not in agreement as to what is material. At all events, it all goes back to my original question, “What is in the cask?”’
‘Do you not accept my statement that it is money?’
‘I accept your statement that you believe it to be money. I do not necessarily accept your authority for that belief.’
‘Well,’ said Felix, jumping up, ‘the cask’s in the coach-house and I see there is nothing for it but to go and open it now. I did not want to do so to-night, as I did not want to have all that gold lying loose about the house, but it’s clear nothing else will satisfy you.’
‘Thank you, Mr. Felix, I wanted you to make the suggestion. It is, as you say, the only way to settle the matter. I’ll call Sergeant Hastings here as a witness and we’ll go now.’
In silence, Felix got a lantern and led the way. They passed through a back-door into the yard and paused at the coach-house door.
‘Hold the light, will you, while I get the keys.’
Burnley threw a beam on the long running bolt that closed the two halves of the door. A padlock held the handle down on the staple. Felix inserted a key, but at his first touch the lock fell open.
‘Why, the thing’s not fastened!’ he cried, ‘and I locked it myself a few hours ago!’
He removed the padlock and withdrew the running bolt, swinging the large door open. Burnley flashed in the lantern.