"What?" came from three pairs of lips at once.
"A sort of handle. Wait a bit." He removed his right hand from the rail above him and reached up to turn the handle. "It seems to be something on the same sort of principle as a Yale lock," he said, and pressed upwards. "Yes, by Jove, it moves! Throw the light more to the side, will you? I thought so! It's hinged. That accounts for my being able to lift it. Take the light away now; I'm going to open it."
They switched off their torches, but they were not long in darkness, for the solid stone slab that Michael was pressing, opened slowly upwards, and a shaft of daylight filtered into the crypt.
Michael climbed carefully higher, until he could see over the top of the tomb. "It's all right. There's no one here. I just want to see how this works from outside." He swung the slab right back, and climbed out. He was gone for perhaps five minutes, and they saw him swing a leg over the side of the tomb again, and pull the slab to after him. They heard the lock click as it shut.
He came quickly down the ladder again. "No wonder I couldn't find it. Unless you knew exactly where to look you never would. There's a slit in the carving on the side of the tomb. Beautiful bit of work. It's just wide enough to take a very thin flat key. The Monk's put a complete lock on the lid of the tomb, and a couple of hinges. Well, I think that's settled his little hash once and for all. We've got him, inspector."
Chapter Nineteen
Then they got back to the library, after a thorough examination of the secret cellar, it was nearly one o'clock, and Celia had received several callers. Even Mrs. Pennythorne had bicycled over to inquire after the missing couple, and Mrs. Roote, and Mr. Titmarsh had also come to offer their sympathy.
Since Charles had seen the underground passage and the rooms that led out of it he and Peter had had a quiet consultation. As a result of this Peter took Michael Draycott aside just before they all went in to lunch, and tackled him frankly.
"Look here, Draycott," he said, "I'm going to ask you a plain question, and I want you to answer quite honestly: isn't Margaret's and my escape from that cell going to make your job to-night rather ticklish?"
Michael hesitated. "Well, of course, it does complicate things, I admit," he said. "Still, it can't be helped."