nner or workshop door, which was not quite closed. This
light was unexpected, none having been visible through hole or crevice.
Glancing in, the woman found that he had placed cloths and mats at the
various apertures, and hung a sack at the window to prevent the egress
of a single ray. She could also perceive from where she stood that the
bar of light fell across the brewing-copper just outside the inner door,
and that upon it lay the key of her bedroom. The illuminated interior of
the workshop was also partly visible from her position through the two
half-open doors. Manston was engaged in emptying a large cupboard of the
tools, gallipots, and old iron it contained. When it was quite
cleared he took a chisel, and with it began to withdraw the hooks
and shoulder-nails holding the cupboard to the wall. All these being
loosened, he extended his arms, lifted the cupboard bodily from the
brackets under it, and deposited it on the floor beside him.

That portion of the wall which had been screened by the cupboard was now
laid bare. This, it appeared, had been plastered more recently than the
bulk of the outhouse. Manston loosened the plaster with some kind
of tool, flinging the pieces into a basket as they fell. Having now
stripped clear about two feet area of wall, he inserted a crowbar
between the joints of the bricks beneath, softly wriggling it until
several were loosened. There was now disclosed the mouth of an old oven,
which was apparently contrived in the thickness of the wall, and having
fallen into disuse, had been closed up with bricks in this manner. It
was formed after the simple old-fashioned plan of oven-building--a mere
oblate cavity without a flue.

Manston now stretched his arm into the oven, dragged forth a heavy
weight of great bulk, and let it slide to the ground. The woman who
watched him could see the object plainly. It was a common corn-sack,
nearly full, and was tied at the mouth in the usual way.

The steward had once or twice started up, as if he had heard sounds, and
his motions now became more cat-like still. On a sudden he put out the
light. Anne had made no noise, yet a foreign noise of some kind had
certainly been made in the intervening portion of the house. She heard
it. 'One of the rats,' she thought.

He seemed soon to recover from his alarm, but changed his tactics
completely. He did not light his candle--going on with his work in the
dark. She had only sounds to go by now, and, judgin