'Yes—a box.'
'He keeps his grog here; and where his grog is, there his money will not be. Too many itching fingers go after the bottle of spirits to make that safe.'
He tapped a bit of wainscot, but it sounded dead.
'There are shutters,' mused he; 'what does a man in a cottage want with folding shutters? As well expect to meet with a pier-glass. They hide something. Excuse me, Jane, if I darken the room whilst I look.'
Still his search was without result.
'I am hanged,' growled he. 'But, ha! there is still the wardrobe left.'
He crossed the room to the closet beside the fire.
Jane's heart rose into her mouth.
Dench threw open one of the doors. He hesitated a moment about unbolting the other valve; did not do so, but groped in the pockets of the dresses that were there suspended in double range; he was disappointed in those he searched. Then he unhasped the second valve, and closed the first, that he might submit the rest of the clothes to the same search. Had he looked over his shoulder, he would have seen a light spring into Jane's eyes.
'By my liver,' said Dench to himself, 'I did suppose that I should find he used his wife's old rags as his bank.'