ow for another try. We shall
be as rich as Rothschilds when we've done, and across the water before
they can put a hand upon us. Bah! Blister the key! It's as near as
near. But I'll do it, if I try till to-morrow morning. Here, go and
see how the old girl's getting on. Got your keys?"

"Yes, my boy, but they are no good for this."

"Pah! who said they were? They're good for a bottle of wine, though,
ain't they?"

"Oh yes--yes!"

"Then bring one with the cork out, and never mind a glass; and don't
stop to decant it, old chap, for I want a drink horrid bad. This is
warm work."

The butler went away on tip-toe. As he walked along the passage he
heard the sharp grating of the file, and shivered with dread. But upon
reaching the pantry he felt relieved, for the housekeeper seemed to be
asleep.

Not content with this, Roach went up to the hall and listened. But all
was perfectly still in the great solemn mansion, and he went down again,
to be conscious of the scrap, scrap of the file, before he reached the
pantry, where the old lady still lay unmoved.

Hastily getting a bottle of wine from the cupboard, and uncorking it, he
went back, to find Arthur still filing away.

"Oh, there you are then," he grumbled. "I was just a-coming to see if
you were finishing the bottle all to your own cheek. Here, give us
hold."

He took a deep draught, and recommenced filing with renewed vigour for
some minutes.

"Now," he said, "this is the last time of trying. If it won't do it we
must do the other thing."

He tried the key, and it turned half-way, but it was forced upon them
that there was something wanting. The key did not touch some portion of
the ingeniously-made lock, and the young man thrust it in his pocket.

"Better have tried the hammering at first," he said.

"No, no! The noise," cried Roach.

"Bah! Who's going to take any notice of a bit of knocking?" said the
young man, contemptuously. "The sound can't reach them there."

"But suppose a policeman heard it as he passed?"

"Well, he'd hear it and say to himself, `They've got the workpeople
in.'"

"But--"

"Oh, blow your buts, old man! Did the police come to see what was the
matter when the men took out the kitchener and put in a new one?"

"No, but--"

"But you're in a stew. That's what's the matter. Give us hold.
Thinnest wedge, and the hammer, and you hold the light. That piece of
leather will stop the sound."

The butler sighe