"Let them--when I have stopped that," he recklessly answered, pointing to what Thomas Hepburn was doing.
"You are mad," cried Mrs. Gass in excitement. "Stop that! Why, sir, how impossible it would be, even with the best wish, to stop it now. A nail or two more, sir, and the lid's off."
It was as she said. Dr. Rane saw it. He took out his handkerchief, and passed it over his damp face.
"Richard North gave me his word that he would stop it, if it came to this," he murmured more to himself than to Mrs. Gass.
"Richard North knows no more of this than it seems, you knew of it," she said. "He is shut up in his room at the Hall, and hears nothing. Doctor, take advice and get away," she whispered imploringly. "There's still time."
"No," he doggedly said. "As it has gone so far, I'll stand my ground now."
Mrs. Gass groaned. The sound was lost in a rush--police contending against King Mob, King Mob against the police. Even Mrs. Gass turned pale. Dr. Rane voluntarily arrested his advancing steps. Jelly's troubled face was peering out from the distant tree.
The lid had been lifted, and the open shell stood exposed. It was more than the excited numbers could witness, and be quiet. Inspector Jekyll and his fellows keep them back from looking into it? Never. A short, sharp struggle, and the police and their staves were nowhere. With a triumphant whoop the crowd advanced.
But a strange hush, apparently of consternation, had fallen on those who stood at the grave; a hush fell on these interlopers as they reached it. The coffin was empty.
Of all unexpected stoppages to proceedings, official or otherwise, one more complete than this had never fallen. An old magistrate who was present, the coroner--who had just come striding over the ground, to see how things were going on--Thomas Hepburn, and others generally, stared at the empty coffin in profound perplexity.