“Almost,” he said. “Oil again.”
But the fresh oil sent it no farther, and the butler wiped his dripping brow and ejaculated—
“Tut-tut-tut-tut!”
“Look here, old chap, if you can do it better come and try yourself,” cried Arthur in an ill-used tone.
“No, no, my dear boy, I can’t. You are cleverer at such things than I am, but it’s such fidgeting work to stand here holding the light and doing nothing.”
“Never mind, it’s worth it,” said Arthur, laughing. “Think of the pearls and diamonds in here, old fellow. Now for another try. We shall be as rich as Rothschilds when we’ve done, and across the water before they can put a hand upon us. Bah! Blister the key! It’s as near as near. But I’ll do it, if I try till to-morrow morning. Here, go and see how the old girl’s getting on. Got your keys?”
“Yes, my boy, but they are no good for this.”
“Pah! who said they were? They’re good for a bottle of wine, though, ain’t they?”
“Oh yes—yes!”
“Then bring one with the cork out, and never mind a glass; and don’t stop to decant it, old chap, for I want a drink horrid bad. This is warm work.”