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Page 68
"Hullo!" said Bryce. "What's your hurry, young Bewery?"
Dick, who was panting for breath, more from excitement than
haste, drew back and looked at Bryce. Up to then he knew
nothing much against Bryce, whom he had rather liked in the
fashion in which boys sometimes like their seniors, and he was
not indisposed to confide in him.
"Hullo!" he replied. "I say! Where are you off to?"
"Nowhere!--strolling round," answered Bryce. "No particular
purpose, why?"
"You weren't going in--there?" asked Dick, jerking a thumb
towards Paradise.
"In--there!" exclaimed Bryce. "Good Lord, no!--dreary enough
in the daytime! What should I be going in there for?"
Dick seized Bryce's coat-sleeve and dragged him aside.
"I say!" he whispered. "There's something up in there--a
search of some sort!"
Bryce started in spite of an effort to keep unconcerned.
"A search? In there?" he said. "What do you mean?"
Dick pointed amongst the trees, and Bryce saw the faint
glimmer of a light.
"I was in there--just now," said Dick. "And some men--three
or four--came along. They're in there, close up by the nave,
just where you found that chap Collishaw. They're--digging
--or something of that sort!"
"Digging!" muttered Bryce. "Digging?"'
"Something like it, anyhow," replied Dick. "Listen."
Bryce heard the ring of metal on stone. And an unpleasant
conviction stole over him that he was being forestalled, that
somebody was beforehand with him, and he cursed himself for
not having done the previous night what he had left undone
till this night.
"Who are they?" he asked. "Did you see them--their faces?"
"Not their faces," answered Dick. "Only their figures in the
gloom. But I heard Mitchington's voice."
"Police, then!" said Bryce. "What on earth are they after?"
"Look here!" whispered Dick, pulling at Bryce's arm again.
"Come on! I know how to get in there without their seeing us.
You follow me."
Bryce followed readily, and Dick stepping through the
wicket-gate, seized his companion's wrist and led him amongst
the bushes in the direction of the spot from whence came the
metallic sounds. He walked with the step of a cat, and Bryce
took pains to follow his example. And presently from behind a
screen of cypresses they looked out on the expanse of flagging
in the midst of which stood the tomb of Richard Jenkins.
Round about that tomb were five men whose faces were visible
enough in the light thrown by a couple of strong lamps, one of
which stood on the tomb itself, while the other was set on the
ground. Four out of the five the two watchers recognized at
once. One, kneeling on the flags, and busy with a small
crowbar similar to that which Bryce carried inside his
overcoat, was the master-mason of the cathedral. Another,
standing near him, was Mitchington. A third was a clergyman
--one of the lesser dignitaries of the Chapter. A fourth
--whose presence made Bryce start for the second time that.
evening--was the Duke of Saxonsteade. But the fifth was a
stranger--a tall man who stood between Mitchington and the
Duke, evidently paying anxious attention to the master-mason's
proceedings. He was no Wrychester man--Bryce was convinced of
that.
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