His habiliments were sordid; and his beard and hair, grizzled by suffering rather than age, were wild and disordered.

But he was armed both with sword and dagger; and his limbs looked muscular and active as ever.
Casting a glance towards the entrance of the vault as if to make quite sure he was not observed--though he entertained little anxiety on that score--Mompesson stepped towards a particular part of the wall, and touching a spring, a secret door (not to be detected within the masonry except on minute examination) flew open, and disclosed another and smaller vault.
Here, it was at once evident, was concealed the treasure that had escaped the clutches of the myrmidons and the officers of the Star-Chamber.

There was a large open chest at the further end, full of corpulent money-bags, any one of which would have gladdened the heart of a miser.

On this chest Mompesson's gaze was so greedily fixed that he did not notice the body of a man lying directly in his path, and well-nigh stumbled over it.

Uttering a bitter imprecation, he held down the lamp, and beheld the countenance of Luke Hatton, now rigid in death, but with the sardonic grin it had worn throughout life still impressed upon it.