“Then we have stopped all the holes.  And now we must be silent and wait.”

What a time it seemed!  From comparing notes afterwards, it was but an hour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must have almost gone, and the dawn be breaking above us.  My limbs were weary and stiff, for I feared to change my position, yet my nerves were worked up to the highest pitch of tension, and my hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, heavier inbreath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of the bank director.  From my position I could look over the case in the direction of the floor.  Suddenly my eyes caught the glint of a light.

At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement.  Then it lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, without any warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared, a white, almost womanly hand, which felt about in the center of the little area of light.  For a minute or more the hand, with its writhing fingers, protruded out of the floor.  Then it was withdrawn as suddenly as it appeared, and all was dark again save the single lurid spark, which marked a chink between the stones.

Its disappearance, however, was but momentary.  With a rending, tearing sound, one of the broad white stones turned over upon its side, and left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed the light of a lantern.  Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut, boyish face, which looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand on either side of the aperture, drew itself shoulder-high and waist-high, until one knee rested upon the edge.  In another instant he stood at the side of the hole, and was hauling after him a companion, lithe and small like himself, with a pale face and a shock of very red hair.

“It’s all clear,” he whispered.  “Have you the chisel and the bags?  Great Scott!  Jump, Archie, jump, and I’ll swing for it!”

Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar.  The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of rending cloth as Jones clutched at his skirts.  The light flashed upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes’s hunting crop came down on the man’s wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor.

“It’s no use, John Clay,” said Holmes blandly, “you have no chance at all.”

“So I see,” the other answered, with the utmost coolness.  “I fancy that my pal is all right, though I see you have got his coat-tails.”

“There are three men waiting for him at the door,” said Holmes.

“Oh, indeed.  You seem to have done the thing very completely.  I must compliment you.”

“And I you,” Holmes answered.  “Your red-headed idea was very new and effective.”

“You’ll see your pal again presently,” said Jones.  “He’s quicker at climbing down holes than I am.  Just hold out while I fix the derbies.”