"Stop you here, Mr.Hugh, while we fetch them--and don't let your young lady come down while that's lying here.

You might cover him up," he went on, with a significant nod.
"It's an ill sight for even a man's eyes, that!" There were some old, moth-eaten hangings about the walls here and there, and I took one down and laid it over Hollins, wondering while I did this office for him what strange secret it was that he had carried away into death, and why that queer and puzzled expression had crossed his face in death's very moment.

And that done, I ran up to Maisie again, bidding her be patient awhile, and we talked quietly a bit until Chisholm called me down to look at the boxes.

There were four of them--stout, new-made wooden cases, clamped with iron at the corners, and securely screwed down; and when the policemen invited me to feel the weight, I was put in mind, in a lesser degree, of Gilverthwaite's oak-chest.
"What do you think's like to be in there, now, Mr.Hugh ?" asked Chisholm.
"Do you know what I think?
There's various heavy metals in the world--aye, and isn't gold one of the heaviest ?--it'll not be lead that's in here! And look you at that!" He pointed to some neatly addressed labels tacked strongly to each lid--the writing done in firm, bold, print-like characters: _John Harrison, passenger, by S.S.

Aerolite.
Newcastle to Hamburg_.
I was looking from one label to the other and finding them all alike, when we heard voices at the foot of the stair, and from out of them came Superintendent Murray's, demanding loudly who was above..