Presently, the notion entered his brain that perhaps a grain of reassurance might be had by regarding the window of the strong-room from the courtyard. Possibly, thought he, a ray of light might find its way there through the shutters. He stepped out silently, but with eagerness. When he reached the yard, there, sure enough, was a streak of light piercing through a small aperture. Walter was drawn towards it irresistibly. He mounted the scaffolding by the ladder at his feet, and crept along the boarding on his hands; for the darkness, except within the limits of this ray of light, was intense. He reached at length the spot immediately above the window. The ray of light fell below the scaffold, slanting to the ground. Grasping the board, upon which he lay full length, he bent his head until his eye was almost on a level with the hole in the shutter. To his surprise, the interior of the strong-room was distinctly revealed. But what he saw surprised him still more. Silas Monk was seated there at his desk, under the shaded lamp. But he was no longer examining the ledgers; these books were thrown aside; and, in their place, before his greedy eyes, was to be seen a heap of bright sovereigns.
The change which had taken place in the face of Silas Monk since the young man had left him, was startling; and the manner in which he appeared to be feasting his eyes upon the coins was repulsive. He handled the sovereigns with his lean fingers caressingly; he counted them over and over again; then he arranged them in piles on one side, and began to empty other bags in their place. His look suggested a ravenous madman; his attitude resembled that of a beast of prey.
Walter was so fascinated by this unexpected scene in the strong-room, that he found it impossible, for some minutes, to remove his gaze. The mystery about Silas Monk had been solved. Rachel’s grandfather was a wretched miser!
Walter descended from the scaffolding, and went out quietly into Crutched Friars. His lodgings were in the Minories, hard by. But he could not have slept had he gone home without passing under Rachel’s window. He hurried along through the dark and silent streets. What he had witnessed, haunted him; he could not banish the scene of the old man and his bright sovereigns. When he entered the street, and was approaching Silas Monk’s house, he was astonished, though not displeased, to see Rachel standing on the door-step.
‘Why, Walter,’ cried she, ‘is that you? I thought it was grandfather.’
‘I wish, Rachel, for your sake that it was. But I’m afraid, late as it is, that he won’t be back quite yet.’
The girl placed her hand quickly on Walter’s hand and looked up appealingly. ‘Has anything happened? You have a troubled face. Don’t hide it from me, if anything has happened to grandfather.’
The young man hastened to reassure her. ‘Nothing has happened. Silas Monk is at the office still. I have just come away, Rachel. I left him there deeply occupied.’
The girl threw a quick glance into Walter’s face. ‘Then grandfather does work for Armytage and Company after six o’clock?’
‘I doubt that, Rachel, very much.’