“And you say you saw Burr junior lock it up. Have you the key, Burr?”
I stood gazing at him wildly without answering, and then I glanced at Mercer, who met my eye with a look of terror and misery that was piteous to see. For now it was all to come out, and the theft would be brought home to him, for the poor lad to be expelled in disgrace and go home despairingly to those who loved him, and all because he could not restrain that horrible feeling of covetousness.
“I said, ‘Have you the key, Burr junior?’” continued the Doctor more sternly, and I shuddered as the thought struck me now that I was becoming mixed up with the trouble, that they would not believe me if I told the truth—that truth which would be so difficult to tell for Mercer’s sake.
“Burr junior,” cried the Doctor very sharply now, “have you the key of that padlock?”
“Yes; sir,” I faltered, giving quite a start now, as his words roused me as from a dream, and I felt horrified as I fully saw how guilty all this made me appear.
“Take the key, Mr Rebble, if you please,” continued the Doctor, looking more and more pained, as I withdrew the rusty little instrument from my pocket. “Open the bin, please, and see if Dicksee’s statement is made out.”
Mr Hasnip was, I found, looking at me, and I felt a choking sensation as he shook his head at me sadly.
Then I glanced at Mercer, and found he was looking at me in a horrified way, and I let my eyes drop as I said to myself,—
“Poor fellow! I shall not have to speak; he’ll confess it all. I wish I could save him.”
And all the while the usher was unlocking the padlock, taking it from the staple, and throwing open the great lid back against the whitewashed wall, every click and grate of the iron and the creak of the old hinges sounding clear and loud amidst the painful silence.