“They must have gone down to the cellars,” I whispered to Seal. Therefore we passed through the big stone kitchen into a small scullery beyond, from which a flight of stone steps led into the deep vaulted basement. The stout door was closed, but listening at it we heard voices quite distinctly. Our enemies were below, apparently divided in opinion as to the exact spot to open.
We heard one authoritative voice, which the skipper at once recognized as Bennett’s, saying: —
“I tell you that it’s here, in this side wall. Don’t you remember that the old fortune-teller said three times three from the bottom of the steps. Look!” and we heard him count one, two, three—to nine, as he measured the paces. “It’s in this wall, here. Come, let’s get to work, and don’t make any noise, either. Is the door above closed?”
Somebody gave an affirmative response, and soon afterwards we heard the sound of chisels upon the stones. They worked with very little noise, so little, indeed, that had we been asleep the sound would not have reached us.
With Seal standing beside me, his fingers itching to come in contact with Bennett, I think I must have stood there nearly half an hour. The work went on unceasingly, silently, hardly a word being spoken. Reilly’s absence surprised me, but soon we heard a low whisper inquiring where the intruders were, and our companion stood beside us listening.
“They evidently know something of the right spot,” I whispered to him. “They’re taking down part of the foundations. Hark!”
A man was speaking—probably Purvis.
“Now we’re here, we ought to see whether they’ve made any investigations. Come, Harding, let’s go up and have a look round while they’re getting those stones out. We’ll only be ten minutes or so. Have you got the torch?”
“All right,” responded the other, and I knew by the name and the voice that it was the seaman of the Thrush who had read those documents and who had been insolent at my remonstrance.
The instant, however, we heard their intention we sprang out of the kitchen and upstairs to our previous hiding-place. The cupboard was not in the least suspicious—one of those generally built in old houses for the storage of linen. If they found it locked they would not risk awakening us by forcing the door.