a
servant whom he had put away, and now I seemed to understand something
more of it.

My heart throbbed fiercely, as many another's heart has throbbed when he
has come near the fulfilment of a great desire, whether lawful or guilty,
and I tried to get at the brick. But though by holding on to the rope
with my left hand, I could reach over far enough to touch the brick with
my right 'twas as much as I could do, and so I shouted up the well that
they must bring me nearer in to the side. They understood what I would be
at, and slipped a noose over the well-rope and so drew it in to the side,
and made it fast till I should give the word to loose again. Thus I was
brought close to the well-wall, and the marked brick near about the level
of my face when I stood up in the bucket. There was nothing to show that
this brick had been tampered with, nor did it sound hollow when tapped,
though when I came to look closely at the joints, it seemed as though
there was more cement than usual about the edges. But I never doubted
that what we sought was to be found behind it, and so got to work at
once, fixing the wooden frame of the candle in the fastening of the
chain, and chipping out the mortar setting with the plasterer's hammer.

When they saw above that first I was to be pulled in to the side, and
afterwards fell to work on the wall of the well, they guessed, no doubt,
how matters were, and I had scarce begun chipping when I heard the
turnkey's voice again, sharp and greedy, 'What are you doing? have you
found nothing?' It chafed me that this grasping fellow should be always
shouting to me while Elzevir was content to stay quiet, so I cried back
that I had found nothing, and that he should know what I was doing in
good time.

Soon I had the mortar out of the joints, and the brick loose enough to
prise it forward, by putting the edge of the hammer in the crack. I
lifted it clean out and put it in the bucket, to see later on, in case
of need, if there was a hollow for anything to be hidden in; but never
had occasion to look at it again, for there, behind the brick, was a
little hole in the wall, and in the hole what I sought. I had my fingers
in the wall too quick for words, and brought out a little parchment bag,
for all the world like those dried fish-eggs cast up on the beach that
children call shepherds' purses. Now, shepherds' purses are crisp, and
crackle to the touch, and sometimes I have known a pebble get inside one
and r