“Heaven grant we may get out as easily!” rejoined Sir Anthony Kingston, who was standing near him. “More people go in at Traitors’ Gate than come out from it.”
As he spoke, the ponderous wooden valves, worked by some machinery in the upper part of the tower, began slowly to revolve upon their hinges, disclosing the interior of the passage, which was now illumined by torches held by Magog and Croyland, who, with Lovel and Xit, were stationed near the head of the steps. In the background, partly concealed by the coffers, stood Osbert Clinton.
As soon as the valves had opened wide enough to admit the barge, Dudley, who was all impatience to secure the prize, called to the oarsmen to push in, and the order being promptly obeyed, the barge entered the channel, and was propelled to the foot of the steps. Sir Henry Dudley then leaped ashore, and was followed by Sir Anthony Kingston and some four or five others.
“Here is the order for the delivery of the treasure, Sir,” said Dudley, presenting a paper to Lovel, who advanced to meet him.
Lovel glanced at it for a moment, and then, apparently satisfied by the inspection, observed,—
“We have been expecting you, Sir. The chests are all ready, as you see.”
“That is well,” said Dudley, scarcely able to conceal his satisfaction. “Let them be embarked at once.”
While this brief dialogue occurred, Traitor’s Gate was noiselessly returning to its place, and in another minute was closed. The conspirators, however, were too much occupied with what they had in hand to notice this suspicious circumstance. The oarsmen now got out of the barge, and were preparing to place the uppermost chest on board, when Osbert Clinton suddenly stepped forward, and said, in a low voice, to Sir Henry Dudley,—
“We are betrayed. See you not that the gate is shut?”
“Ha! so it is!” cried Dudley. “Why is this, Sir?” he added, fiercely, to Lovel. “How comes it that yon gate is closed?”