All these things considered, Franklin resolved to take the key just as it was, with the wax sticking to it, to his mistress. “I was not mistaken when I thought I might trust _you_ with this key,” said Mrs. Churchill, after she had heard his story. “My brother will be here to-day, and I shall consult him. In the meantime, say nothing of what has passed.” Evening came, and after tea Mr. Spencer sent for Franklin upstairs. “So, Mr. Franklin,” said he, “I’m glad to find you are in such high _trust_ in this family.” Franklin bowed. “But you have lost, I understand, the pleasure of going to the play to-night.” “I don’t think anything—much, I mean, of that, sir,” answered Franklin, smiling. “Are Corkscrew and Felix _gone_ to the play?” “Yes; half an hour ago, sir.” “Then I shall look into his room, and examine the pantry and the plate that is under his care.” When Mr. Spencer came to examine the pantry, he found the large salvers and cups in a basket behind the door, and the other things placed so as to be easily carried off. Nothing at first appeared in Corkscrew’s bedchamber, to strengthen their suspicions, till, just as they were going to leave the room, Mrs. Pomfret exclaimed, “Why, if there is not Mr. Corkscrew’s dress coat hanging up there! and if here isn’t Felix’s fine cravat that he wanted in such a hurry to go to the play! Why, sir, they can’t be gone to the play. Look at the cravat. Ah! upon my word I am afraid they are not at the play. No, sir, you may be sure that they are plotting with their barbarous gang at the alehouse; and they’ll certainly break into the house to-night. We shall all be murdered in our beds, as sure as I’m a living woman, sir; but if you’ll only take my advice—” “Pray, good Mrs. Pomfret,” Mr. Spencer observed, “don’t be alarmed.” “Nay, sir, but I won’t pretend to sleep in the house, if Franklin isn’t to have a blunderbuss, and I a _baggonet_.” “You shall have both, indeed, Mrs. Pomfret; but don’t make such a noise, for everybody will hear you.” The love of mystery was the only thing which could have conquered Mrs. Pomfret’s love of talking. She was silent, and contented herself the rest of the evening with making signs, looking _ominous_, and stalking about the house like one possessed with a secret. Escaped from Mrs. Pomfret’s fears and advice, Mr. Spencer went to a shop within a few doors of the alehouse, which he heard Corkscrew frequented, and sent to beg to speak to the landlord. He came; and, when Mr. Spencer questioned him, confessed that Corkscrew and Felix were actually drinking in his house with two men of suspicious appearance; that, as he passed through the passage, he heard them disputing about a key; and that one of them said, “Since we’ve got the key, we’ll go about it to-night.” This was sufficient information. Mr. Spencer, lest the landlord should give them information of what was going forwards, took him along with him to Bow Street.