Little suspecting what had happened, Franklin, the next morning went to unlock the house door, as usual; but finding the key entangled in the lock, he took it out to examine it, and perceived a lump of wax sticking in one of the wards. Struck with this circumstance, it brought to his mind all that had passed the preceding evening, and being sure that he had no wax near the key, he began to suspect what had happened; and he could not help recollecting what he had once heard Felix say, that “give him but a halfpenny worth of wax, and he could open the strongest lock that ever was made by hands.”
All these things considered, Franklin resolved to take the key just as it was, with the wax sticking to it, to his mistress.
“I was not mistaken when I thought I might trust you with this key,” said Mrs. Churchill, after she had heard his story. “My brother will be here to-day, and I shall consult him. In the meantime, say nothing of what has passed.”
Evening came, and after tea Mr. Spencer sent for Franklin upstairs. “So, Mr. Franklin,” said he, “I’m glad to find you are in such high trust in this family.” Franklin bowed. “But you have lost, I understand, the pleasure of going to the play to-night.”
“I don’t think anything—much, I mean, of that, sir,” answered Franklin, smiling.
“Are Corkscrew and Felix gone to the play?”
“Yes; half an hour ago, sir.”
“Then I shall look into his room, and examine the pantry and the plate that is under his care.”
When Mr. Spencer came to examine the pantry, he found the large salvers and cups in a basket behind the door, and the other things placed so as to be easily carried off. Nothing at first appeared in Corkscrew’s bedchamber, to strengthen their suspicions, till, just as they were going to leave the room, Mrs. Pomfret exclaimed, “Why, if there is not Mr. Corkscrew’s dress coat hanging up there! and if here isn’t Felix’s fine cravat that he wanted in such a hurry to go to the play! Why, sir, they can’t be gone to the play. Look at the cravat. Ah! upon my word I am afraid they are not at the play. No, sir, you may be sure that they are plotting with their barbarous gang at the alehouse; and they’ll certainly break into the house to-night. We shall all be murdered in our beds, as sure as I’m a living woman, sir; but if you’ll only take my advice—”
“Pray, good Mrs. Pomfret,” Mr. Spencer observed, “don’t be alarmed.”