“Good. And what’s this?”
“One I got made to try the vault.”
“Phe-ew!” whistled Arthur, excitedly. “Then you have been in?”
“No, my lad; that only opens the wooden door at the end of the passage. Then you’re in a bit of a lobby, with a big iron door on one side.”
“Well, didn’t you get a key made for that?”
“No, my lad. I couldn’t. It’s a rum one. I don’t believe you could get one made by anybody but them as sold the safe.”
“Don’t believe it,” cried the footman, contemptuously, “Let me have a look.”
“Nay, nay, you’d better not.”
“Gammon. Where’s the old woman?”
“In her room, up atop.”