‘I understan, Mrs. Costrell,’ he said, speaking with great civility, ’as the cupboard where John put his money is a cupboard hon the stairs?  Not in hany room, but hon the stairs?  Yer’ll kindly correck me if I say anythin wrong.’

Bessie nodded.

‘Aye—­top o’ the stairs—­right-’and side,’ groaned John.

‘An John locked it hisself, an tuk the key?’ Saunders proceeded.

John plucked at his neck again, and, dumbly, held out the key.

‘An there worn’t nothin wrong wi the lock when yo opened it, John?’

‘Nothin, Muster Saunders—­I’ll take my davy.’

Saunders ruminated.  ‘Theer’s a cupboard there,’ he said suddenly, raising his hand and pointing to the cupboard beside the fireplace.  ‘Is’t anythin like the cupboard on th’ stairs, John?’

’Aye, ‘tis!’ said John, startled and staring.  ’Aye, ’tis, Muster Saunders!’

Saunders rose.

‘Per’aps,’ he said slowly, ’Mrs. Costrell will do us the favour ov lettin us hexamine that ‘ere cupboard?’

He walked across to it.  Bessie’s hand dropped; she turned sharply, supporting herself against the table, and watched him, her chest heaving.

’There’s no key ‘ere,’ said Saunders, stooping to look at the lock.  ’Try yours, John.’

John rushed forward, but Bessie put herself in the way.

’What are yer meddlin with my ‘ouse for?’ she said fiercely.  ’Just mek yourselves scarce, all the lot o’ yer!  I don’t know nothin about his money, an I’ll not have yer insultin me in my own place!  Get out o’ my kitchen, if yo please!’

Saunders buttoned his coat.

‘Sartinly, Mrs. Costrell, sartinly,’ he said, with emphasis.  ’Come along, John.  Yer must get Watson and put it in ’is hands.  ’Ee’s the law is Watson.  Maybe, as Mrs. Costrell ull listen to ‘im.’

Mary Anne ran to Bessie in despair.

’O Bessie, Bessie, my dear—­don’t let ’em get Watson; let ’em look into’t theirselves—­it’ll be better for yer, my dear, it will.’

Bessie looked from one to the other, panting.  Then she turned back to the table.

‘I don care what they do,’ she said, with sullen passion.  ’I’m not stannin in any one’s way, I tell yer.  The more they finds out the better I’m pleased.’

The look of incipient laughter on Saunders’s countenance became more pronounced—­that is to say, the left-hand corner of his mouth twitched a little higher.

But it was rare for him to complete the act, and he was not in the least minded to do so now.  He beckoned to John, and John, trembling, took off his keys and gave them to him, pointing to that which belonged to the treasure cupboard.

Saunders slipped it into the lock before him.  It moved with ease, backwards and forwards.

‘H’m! that’s strange,’ he said, taking out the key and turning it over thoughtfully in his hand.  ’Yer didn’t think as there were another key in this ‘ouse that would open your cupboard, did yer, Bolderfield?’