Murmuring and tremulous the coiners scrambled on the table and examined the dead man. From this task Gawtrey interrupted them, for his quick eye detected, with the pistols under the policeman’s blouse, a whistle of metal of curious construction, and he conjectured at once that danger was at hand. “I have saved you, I say, but only for the hour. This deed cannot sleep. See, he had help within call! The police knew where to look for their comrade--we are dispersed. Each for himself. Quick, divide the spoils! Sauve qui peat!” Then Morton heard where he sat, his hands still clasped before his face, a confused hubbub of voices, the jingle of money, the scrambling of feet, the creaking of doors. All was silent! A strong grasp drew his hands from his eyes. “Your first scene of life against life,” said Gawtrey’s voice, which seemed fearfully changed to the ear that heard it. “Bah! what would you think of a battle? Come to our eyrie: the carcasses are gone.” Morton looked fearfully round the vault. He and Gawtrey were alone. His eyes sought the places where the dead had lain--they were removed--no vestige of the deeds, not even a drop of blood. “Come, take up your cutlass, come!” repeated the voice of the chief, as with his dim lantern--now the sole light of the vault--he stood in the shadow of the doorway. Morton rose, took up the weapon mechanically, and followed that terrible guide, mute and unconscious, as a Soul follows a Dream through the House of Sleep! CHAPTER X. “Sleep no more!”--Macbeth After winding through gloomy and labyrinthine passages, which conducted to a different range of cellars from those entered by the unfortunate Favart, Gawtrey emerged at the foot of a flight of stairs, which, dark, narrow, and in many places broken, had been probably appropriated to servants of the house in its days of palmier glory. By these steps the pair regained their attic. Gawtrey placed the lantern on the table and seated himself in silence. Morton, who had recovered his self-possession and formed his resolution, gazed on him for some moments, equally taciturn. At length he spoke: “Gawtrey!” “I bade you not call me by that name,” said the coiner; for we need scarcely say that in his new trade he had assumed a new appellation.