That was the work of a minute, for on every hand there was the blank stone--wall, floor and roof, and the exterior of the iron safe or tomb was perfectly rectangular and smooth. "What was the size of the cases?" "One was about twelve inches by eight, and three or four deep, and the other rather smaller," replied the old lawyer; "both too large for me to have juggled them into my pockets when I opened the steel chest, Mr Artis." "You held the keys, and if you meant to take the treasure, you had it before." "Enough of this," cried Capel. "It is plain that the bequest has been taken away. Mr Girtle, we will finish at once--fulfil my uncle's commands. Come." He went to the head of the oaken coffin, and took one handle, when, influenced by his example, the others helped to raise it a little from the floor, and it was thrust in and onward, till it rested upon the bottom of the steel chest, nearly filling the space. Capel stood on the right of the entrance, and for fully five minutes there was perfect silence in the solemn chamber. "Go on, Mr Girtle," Capel said, at last, and the old man bent down, thrust the key in the end, gave a half turn, and the two ponderous sides slowly curved over till they were nearly together leaving only a few inches of the shining brass breastplate visible. Then there was a faint click, and the left side fell heavily, setting free the right, which descended with a loud clang, and closed tightly over a rebate in the lower side, so closely, that it was only by holding a candle near that the junction could be seen. "Go on;" and the old lawyer again inserted a key. There was no show of effort on his part, as the old lawyer turned the key, when the end of the iron chamber closed in tightly, and after once more examining the blank stone chamber, they slowly ascended the steps. Then the iron door was closed and locked, and Mr Girtle handed Capel the keys. An hour later, a couple of masons were at work with the stones that were below in the locked-up cellar, and the next day they had filled in a wall of six feet thick, cemented over the face, so that only a dark patch showed where the entrance to the colonel's tomb had been. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE YOUNG DOCTOR. "Look here," said Artis; "you mustn't be offended with me. I speak very plainly, and if I can be of any use to you, I will." They were in the drawing-room, Preenham, having announced that the masons had left. "I am not going to think of your remarks." "I was thinking of going to-day," continued Artis; "but I feel now that I ought not to go and leave you in a regular hole like this." "There is no need for you to stay." "Well, no need, of course; but I suppose you will not kick me out." "Of course not. You are welcome." "That's right," said Artis. "You see," he continued, looking round to where Katrine and Lydia sat together, "I feel it due to myself to stop and show that I had no hand in that." "No one accused you, Mr Artis."