“Why the place is like a vault with a tomb in it,” said Artis, with an impatient tone in his voice.
“It is a vault, Mr Artis,” said the old lawyer—“a vault in which is a tomb. This,” he continued, “is all of enormous strength, blocks of stone and concrete being beneath us, and the walls and roof are of immense thickness. The space to be blocked up is six feet through.”
“Humph, highly interesting, Mr Showman,” muttered Artis; and then, at a look from Katrine, he became attentive.
“Colonel Capel,” continued the old lawyer, “had his own peculiar ideas, and being an enormously wealthy man, accustomed to command, he considered he had a right to follow out his views. I more than once pointed out to him, when he made me his confidant, that the proceedings he proposed might meet with opposition from the authorities, but he replied calmly that the place was his own freehold, and that everything was to be carried out privately, but at the same time he would give as little excuse as possible for interference with his plans. Besides, he said, once get the matter over, and it would be forgotten in a week.”
“But, in the name of common sense,” broke out Artis, “why—”
“Will you kindly retain your observations, Mr Artis, until we have returned to the drawing-room,” said the lawyer.
Artis was about to reply, but Paul Capel saw that a look from Katrine restrained him, and a jealous pang shot through his heart.
Balm came for the wound directly, as Katrine raised her eyes to his, let them rest there for a few moments, and then veiled them as she gazed upon the floor.
“Colonel Capel,” continued the old lawyer, with his words whispering about the stone walls, “had a double intention in having the place constructed. It was for his mausoleum after death, for his strong room during life. Within this iron room or chamber, which would defy any burglar’s tools, is a chest of steel, constructed from the Colonel’s own designs, to contain his enormous fortune, and when that has been taken out at twelve o’clock to-morrow, it is to be replaced by the coffin that lies in the next room, by us who are present now; to be closed up and locked; the iron chamber is to be also closed; then the iron door; and lastly, we are to see that portal completely walled up, as I have already told you, and—forgotten.”
“But,” said Artis, quickly, “is the large sum in notes here—in this place?”