" said
the sheriff.

"Not the least in the world," answered Lyon Berners, leading the way
into the chapel, as the sheriff dismounted from his horse, threw the
bridle to an attendant, and followed.

The interior was soon thoroughly searched, having nothing but its bare
walls and vacant windows, with the exception of Sybil's forsaken bed
near the altar, the smouldering fire in what had once been the middle
aisle, and the little pile of brushwood in the corner.

"There is certainly no one here but yourself, Mr. Berners; yet here are
signs of human habitation," said the sheriff significantly.

Lyon Berners laughed painfully. And then he thought it would be safest
to inform the sheriff of some part of the truth, rather than to leave
him to his own conjectures, which might cover the whole case. So he
answered:

"I do not mind telling you, Mr. Benthwick, that myself and my injured
wife took refuge in this place immediately after the terrible tragedy
that so unjustly compromised her safety. We remained here several days,
and then departed. These things that you notice had been brought for our
accommodation, and were left here when we went away."

"So you were not at Pendleton's?"

"Not for an hour."

"That is strange. But how comes it that you are here now without your
wife, Mr. Berners?"

"Sir, I have told you all that I mean to tell, and now my lips are
sealed on the subject of my wife," said Lyon Berners, firmly.

"I cannot and do not blame you in the least," said the sheriff, kindly.

"All that we have to do now, is to pursue our search for the burglars,
and if in the course of it we should come upon Mrs. Berners, we must do
our duty," he concluded.

"To that proposition Mr. Berners assented with a silent bow and bitterly
compressed lips. The sheriff then went to the door of the vault, and
stooping down with his hands upon his knees, peered through the iron
grating, more in curiosity than in any hope of finding a clue to the
robbers. And in fact he discovered nothing but the head of that narrow
staircase whose foot disappeared in the darkness below.

"Phew! what a damp, deadly air comes up from that foul pit! it hasn't
been opened in half a century, I suppose," exclaimed Mr. Benthwick,
taking hold of the rusty bars and trying to shake the grating; but
finding it immovable, he ceased his efforts and turned away.

Then he went to the chapel door, and called his men around him, saying:

"There is no sign of