"Come along!" Morriston called. "We'll all go up, and see whether the
door is open or not. We shall just be in time to catch the sunset."
He led the way through the hall and the corridor beyond and so up the
winding stairs.
"What, not open yet?" he exclaimed as the last turn showed the workman
busy at the lock. "Well, this is extraordinary."
The locksmith was kneeling and working at the door, while the footman
stood over him holding a candle.
"The key is in the lock, inside, isn't it?" Morriston asked.
"Yes, sir," the man answered. "There is no doubt about that."
"How do you account for it?"
The man looked up from his task and shook his head.
"Can't account for it, sir. Unless so be as there is someone inside."
"Can you open it?"
"Yes, sir. I'll have it turned in a minute."
He took from his bag a long pair of hollow pliers which he inserted in
the lock and then screwed tightly, clutching the end of the key. Then
fitting a transverse rod to the pliers and using it as a lever he
carefully forced the key round, and so shot back the lock.
There was a short pause while the man unscrewed his instrument; then he
stepped back and pushed open the door.
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