"You may as well take the pipes and baccy along with you, old feller," returned Dick. "And here's a thimble-full of brandy left in the flask," added the Cracksman. "This evenin' I'll bring you a jolly wack of the bingo," said Flairer. Provided with the little comforts just specified, the murderer descended the spiral staircase into the vault. The trap-door closed above his head; and the grate was replaced with more than usual care and caution. The Cracksman and Dick Flairer then took their departure from the old house, in the foundation of which a fellow-creature was thus strangely entombed alive! CHAPTER XXIV. CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. Let us now return to Mr. Whittingham, whom we left in serious and unfeigned tribulation at the moment when his young master was taken into custody upon the charge of passing a forged note. The Bow Street runner whom the officer had left behind to search the house, first possessed himself of the two letters which were lying upon the table in Markham's library, and which were addressed respectively to Mrs. Arlington and Mr. Monroe. The functionary then commenced a strict investigation of the entire premises; and, at the end, appeared marvellously surprised that he had not found a complete apparatus for printing forged notes, together with a quantity of the false articles themselves. This search, nevertheless, occupied three hours; and, when it was over, he took his departure, quite sulky because he had nothing to offer as evidence save the two sealed letters, which might be valuable in that point of view, or might not. The moment this unwelcome guest had quitted the house, the butler, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour--for it was now dusk--ordered the market cart to be got ready; and, with the least possible delay, he proceeded into town. Upon his arrival in Bow Street, he found the police-office closed: but upon enquiry he learnt that the investigation of Richard Markham's case had been postponed until the following morning at eleven o'clock, the prisoner having declared that he could produce a witness who would satisfactorily show his (the prisoner's) entire innocence in the transaction. In the meantime, he had been removed to Clerkenwell Prison. Without asking another question, Whittingham mounted his cart once more, and drove away at a rattling pace to Clerkenwell Prison. There he began to thunder like a madman at the knocker of the governor's private entrance, and could hardly believe his senses when a servant-girl informed him that it was past the hours to see the prisoners. Whittingham would have remonstrated; but the girl slammed the door in his face. He accordingly had no alternative save to drive direct home again.