George Harrington drew forth and opened his knife again, tried the blade on the joints of two of the bins, to find that the mortar was hard. Then going to the one where the dog stood watching him, he plunged the point in easily between the bricks. "Look, sir," he said hoarsely; "and you can see the whitewash is hardly dry. The proofs of all I have said are in there." CHAPTER FORTY. SELF-CONDEMNED. Mr Hampton caught George Harrington by the arm, and his voice was low and husky with emotion as he said: "No, no; in heaven's name, no. It is too horrible." "Horrible enough, sir. Down, Bruno! Watch!" The dog couched directly, growling low the while. "Think of Gertrude--my wife. No, no; it is impossible." George pointed at the dog. "I've more faith in him, sir, than in our ideas." "Then, if it is true, we must have in the police. Let them make the discovery." "No," said George shortly. "If there is a discovery to be made, I'll be the first to make it; and then we must have in the police at once." As he spoke, he attacked the brickwork with the chisel, easily removed one brick, and the others came more easily still. "These bricks have not been untouched for years, Mr Hampton." "No, sir, no," said the old man feebly, as he wiped his face. "But it may mean a robbery by some old servant--of the wine." "Yes, sir, it may," said George hoarsely, as he worked away hastily, the dog growing more excited as brick after brick was thrown down into the growing heap, his hair about his neck bristling and his hind-quarters all on the move, as if he were gathering himself up for a spring. The bricks were all laid endwise so as to form nine-inch work, and as they were taken out it was plain to see that some were whitewashed on both ends, others only on one end, and here both ends were whitened; one end was hard and dry, the other, or outer end, had a coating of moist wash. A trifle, but pregnant with meaning to him who worked. "You have enough out now," said the old man, holding forward the light. "There: it is a mistake, thank heaven! Look: bottles." The light glanced upon the concave bottoms of rows of bottles with laths between, but George Harrington toiled on. "My dear sir, this is madness," said the lawyer petulantly. "Yes, sir: with a method," said George, working away. "Look; the whole of the brick-laying is fresh. We must have them all out." "But what for?" "Wait," cried the young man fiercely; and he worked with furious energy till the last brick was removed, and the bin laid bare. "Now, are you satisfied?" said the old man. "No." The bottles rose from the floor to the iron supported division which formed the place into two, and the top row was drawn out and set on end, first one at a time, then, as there was more room, two by two, till a couple of layers were standing in the sawdust. Then George Harrington paused and wiped his own brow.