Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors. They must have a key. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. “Why not?” He asked. ‘Don’t concern yourself. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. As they approached London Bridge, the thief-taker whispered Van Galgebrok, who acted as steersman, to make for a particular arch—near the Surrey shore.
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