“It were a good deed to do so,” returned Leonard; “but it must not be done now.  Let us go upstairs.  These are the only rooms below.”

Accordingly, they ascended the staircase, and entered chamber after chamber, all of which were as full of spoil as those they had just visited; but they could find no one, nor was there any symptom that the house was tenanted.  They next stood still within the gallery, and listened intently for some sound to reveal those they sought, but all was still and silent as the grave.

“We cannot be mistaken,” observed Leonard.  “It is clear this house is the receptacle for Chowles’s plunder.  Besides, we should not have found the lantern burning if they had gone forth again.  No, no; they must be hidden somewhere, and I will not quit the place till I find them.”  Their search, however, was fruitless.  They mounted to the garrets, opened every door, and glanced into every corner.  Still, no one was to be seen.

“I begin to think Nizza cannot be here,” said the apprentice; “but I am resolved not to depart without questioning Chowles on the subject.”

“You must find him first,” rejoined Rainbird.  “If he is anywhere, he must be in the cellar, for we have been into every room in this part of the house.  For my own part, I think you had better abandon the search altogether.  No good will come of it.”

Leonard, however, was not to be dissuaded, and they went downstairs.  A short flight of stone steps brought them to a spacious kitchen, but it was quite empty, and seemed to have been long disused.  They then peeped into the scullery adjoining, and were about to retrace their steps, when Rainbird plucked Leonard’s sleeve to call attention to a gleam of light issuing from a door which stood partly ajar, in a long narrow passage leading apparently to the cellars.

“They are there,” he said, in a whisper.

“So I see,” replied Leonard, in the same tone.  And raising his finger to his lips in token of silence, he stole forward on the points of his feet and cautiously opened the door.

At the further end of the cellar—­for such it was—­knelt Chowles, examining with greedy eyes the contents of a large chest, which, from the hasty glance that Leonard caught of it, appeared to be filled with gold and silver plate.  A link stuck against the wall threw a strong light over the scene, and showed that the coffin-maker was alone.  As Leonard advanced, the sound of his footsteps caught Chowles’s ear, and uttering a cry of surprise and alarm, he let fall the lid of the chest, and sprang to his feet.

“What do you want?” he cried, looking uneasily round, as if in search of some weapon.  “Are you come to rob me?”

“No,” replied Leonard; “neither are we come to reclaim the plunder you have taken from others.  We are come in search of Nizza Macascree.”

“Then you have come on a fool’s errand,” replied Chowles, regaining his courage, “for she is not here.  I know nothing of her.”