The strong-smelling earth excavated lay piled in the cellar up to the roof, and the manner in which the work had been performed showed that at least one of the party was used to such operations. But there was nothing else there, save a few candle-ends.
It struck us all three as very remarkable why the intruders should have gone straight to that spot and commenced their investigation there. Evidently they were in possession of certain precise information of which we were in utter ignorance, yet, holding them entrapped in that long, subterranean passage without exit, we should now be enabled to pursue further investigations in the direction they themselves had indicated.
Seal, without coat or vest, spent an hour in tapping every part of the wall, but was compelled to admit that he discovered no hollow place. Therefore, recollecting the mention of the paces from the bottom of the steps, we measured them in an opposite direction and began to attack the wall.
Through the whole morning we all three worked in the semi-darkness, but having cut out a great circular piece from the huge wall we only found the soft, chalky earth beyond, and no sign whatever of the presence of gold.
All was disappointing—utterly disheartening.
At noon we made ourselves presentable, and went over to the Plough for lunch. While we were still seated at table the inn-keeper’s sister entered and told me that Ben Knutton wished to speak with me, a request to which I responded with alacrity.
Outside I found the bent old fellow awaiting me. The very fact that he would not enter the inn told me that what he wished to say was in secrecy.
“Mornin’, sir,” he exclaimed, in a low voice, touching his battered hat respectfully. “Dolly’s sent me, sir, with a message to you.” And fumbling in his trousers pocket he placed in my hand a crumpled letter.
We were standing behind a blank wall, with none to watch our movements; therefore I tore open the missive eagerly and read the few hastily-scribbled lines therein.
“Dear Paul,” she wrote, “I am returning to London at once. If you write, do not address the letter to the library at Kensington, but to me at 120, Cornwall Road, Bayswater. Recollect the warning I gave you yesterday. Mr. P. went out last night, but he has not returned.—Yours, D. D.”