"What are yer meddlin' with my 'ouse for?" she said fiercely. "Just mek yourselves scarce, all the lot o' yer! I don't know nothin' about his money, an' I'll not have yer insultin' me in me own place! Get out o' my kitchen, if yo' please!"
Saunders buttoned his coat.
"Sartinly, Mrs. Costrell, sartinly," he said, with emphasis. "Come along, John. Yer must get Watson and put it in 'is hands. 'Ee's the law, is Watson. Maybe as Mrs. Costrell 'ull listen to 'im."
Mary Anne ran to Bessie in despair.
"Oh, Bessie, Bessie, my dear—don't let 'em get Watson; let 'em look into 't theirselves—it'll be better for yer, my dear, it will."
Bessie looked from one to the other, panting. Then she turned back to the table.
"I don' care what they do," she said, with sullen passion. "I'm not stannin' in any one's way, I tell yer. The more they finds out the better I'm pleased."
The look of incipient laughter on Saunders's countenance became more pronounced—that is to say, the left-hand corner of his mouth twitched a little higher. But it was rare for him to complete the act, and he was not in the least minded to do so now. He beckoned to John, and John, trembling, took off his keys and gave them to him, pointing to that which belonged to the treasure cupboard.
Saunders slipped it into the lock before him. It moved with ease, backwards and forwards.
"H'm! that's strange," he said, taking out the key and turning it over thoughtfully in his hand. "Yer didn't think as there were another key in this 'ouse that would open your cupboard, did yer, Bolderfield?"