“I understand,” replied Thames; “be it as you will.” “Then, we'll lose no more time,” returned Jack. “Come along, Blueskin.” Starting at a rapid pace in the direction of the Old Bailey, and crossing Fleet Bridge, “for oyster tubs renowned,” the trio skirted the right bank of the muddy stream until they reached Fleet Lane, up which they hurried. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. A door in this house opened upon the yard. Jack tried it, and found it locked. “If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle,” he muttered. “We shall be obliged to force it.” “Try the cellar, Captain,” said Blueskin, stamping upon a large board in the ground. “Here's the door. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. I've seen him often do it.” While making these remarks, Blueskin contrived, by means of a chisel which he chanced to have about him, to lift up the board, and, introducing his fingers beneath it, with Jack's assistance speedily opened it altogether, disclosing a dark hole, into which he leapt. “Follow me, Thames,” cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. It was fastened inside. But, taking the chisel from Blueskin, Jack quickly forced back the bolt. As they entered the room beyond, a fierce growl was heard. “Let me go first,” said Blueskin; “the dogs know me. Soho! boys.” And, walking up to the animals, which were chained to the wall, they instantly recognised him, and suffered the others to pass without barking. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. They then swiftly mounted the stairs, and stopped before the audience-chamber. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. He, next cautiously tried the door, but found it fastened inside. “I fear we're too late,” he whispered to Thames. “But, we'll soon see. Give me the chisel, Blueskin.” And, dexterously applying the implement, he forced open the lock. They then entered the room, which was perfectly dark. “This is strange,” said Jack, under his breath. “Sir Rowland must be gone. And, yet, I don't know. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. Be on your guard.” “I am so,” replied Thames, who had followed him closely. “Shall I fetch the light, Captain?” whispered Blueskin. “Yes,” replied Jack. “I don't know how it is,” he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, “but I've a strange foreboding of ill. My heart fails me. I almost wish we hadn't come.”