“These are daring men,” you whisper. “We must be swift in nabbing them. We shall stand right here.”
The four of you arrange yourselves around the spot you believe John Clay will enter.
The lights are extinguished, leaving you in total darkness—such an absolute darkness as you have never experienced before. There is something sad and lonely in the gloom and in the cold dank air of the vault.
“They have just one retreat,” you add. “Back through the house into Coburg Square. I hope you have done what I asked, Jones.”
“I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door,” he tells you.
“Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and wait.”
***
How long has it been? Certainly more than an hour. Your limbs are weary and stiff. Your nerves are worked to the highest pitch of tension. You can hear the gentle breathing of your companions.
Your eyes catch the glint of a light in the direction of the floor. At first it is but a spark upon the pavement.
It lengthens out until it becomes a yellow line. Then, without any warning or sound, a gash seems to open in the stone. A hand appears. It feels around for a moment and is withdrawn quickly. All is dark again except the single spark, which marks a chink between the stones.
With a tearing sound, one of the white floor stones turns over upon its side. It leaves a square, gaping hole, through which streams the light of a lantern. A boyish face peeps up over the edge. His eyes widen in surprise. He calls into the tunnel behind him. He has spotted you too soon.
You lunge forward and grab John Clay’s coat. The villain smiles coldly. In a flash of motion, he reaches backward and grabs a large shovel. He swings it toward your head. You hear a thunder-like clap, and you feel a sharp, piercing pain. You crumple to the ground, and then you know no more.