In this way, after little more than a half hour, the two burly workmen had completed three of the four cuts necessary to remove the iron casing that contained the lock’s mechanism. When I returned from Fisher Gate they were half way through the fourth, though by now they were growing tired, and accompanying the music of the file with bestial grunts of effort. Yet, nearing the completion of the task, the men’s rate of work seemed, if anything, to increase: Grimshaw must have promised them a good fee for their work. The Mayor stood like a hungry dog with his bulging eyes fixed upon the reciprocating motion of the file, ready to spring forward as soon as it broke through. The moment came with a clatter five minutes later, as the lock fell inwards from its position and onto the stone floor of the strong room. In a moment Grimshaw had pushed the gate open and disappeared inside. We all waited and within fifteen seconds he had reappeared. ‘Well, don’t be idle, you men. Bring us a light.
