strong and wily enemy to deal with, and as yet we did not know whether the
Count might not be in the house.
In the dining room, which lay at the back of the hall, we found eight boxes of
earth. Eight boxes only out of the nine which we sought! Our work was not over,
and would never be until we should have found the missing box.
First we opened the shutters of the window which looked out across a narrow
stone flagged yard at the blank face of a stable, pointed to look like the front of a
miniature house. There were no windows in it, so we were not afraid of being
overlooked. We did not lose any time in examining the chests. With the tools
which we had brought with us we opened them, one by one, and treated them as
we had treated those others in the old chapel. It was evident to us that the Count
was not at present in the house, and we proceeded to search for any of his
After a cursory glance at the rest of the rooms, from basement to attic, we came
to the conclusion that the dining room contained any effects which might belong
to the Count. And so we proceeded to minutely examine them. They lay in a sort
of orderly disorder on the great dining room table.
There were title deeds of the Piccadilly house in a great bundle, deeds of the
purchase of the houses at Mile End and Bermondsey, notepaper, envelopes, and
pens and ink. All were covered up in thin wrapping paper to keep them from the
dust. There were also a clothes brush, a brush and comb, and a jug and basin.
The latter containing dirty water which was reddened as if with blood. Last of all
was a little heap of keys of all sorts and sizes, probably those belonging to the
other houses.
When we had examined this last find, Lord Godalming and Quincey Morris taking
accurate notes of the various addresses of the houses in the East and the South,
took with them the keys in a great bunch, and set out to destroy the boxes in
these places. The rest of us are, with what patience we can, waiting their return,
or the coming of the Count.