The workmen retired, laughing; and when the church was clear of them,
the churchwarden said to Sir Richard Blunt--

"Did you ever, Sir Richard, smell such a horrid charnel-house sort of
stench as comes up from that opening in the floor of the old church?" Sir Richard shook his head, and was about to say something, when the
sound of a footstep upon the pavement of the church made him look round,
and he saw a fat, pursy-looking individual approaching. "Oh, it's Mr. Vickley, the overseer," said the beadle. "I hopes as yer
is well, Mr. Vickley. Here's a horrid smell." "God bless me!" cried the overseer, as with his fat finger and thumb he
held his snub nose. "What's this? It's worse and worse." "Yes, sir," said the beadle; "talking of the smell, we have let the cat
out of the bag, I think." "Good gracious! put her in again, then. It can't be a cat." "Begging your pardon, Mr. Vickley, I only spoke _anatomically_. If you
comes here, sir, you'll find that all the smell comes out of this here
opening." "What! An opening close to my pew! My family pew, where I every Sunday
enjoy my repose--I mean my hopes of everlasting glory? Upon my life, I
think it's a piece of--of d--d impudence to open the floor of the
church, close to my pew. If there was to be anything of the sort done,
couldn't it have been done somewhere among the free sittings, I should
like to know?" "Mr. Vickley," said Sir Richard, "pray be satisfied that I have
sufficient authority for what I do here; and if I had thought it
necessary to take up the flooring of your pew while you had been in it,
I should have done it." "And pray, sir," said Mr. Vickley, swelling himself out to as large a
size as possible, and glancing at his watch chain, to see that all the
seals hung upon the convexity of his paunch as usual--"who are you?" "Oh, dear--oh, dear," said the beadle. "Conwulsions!--conwulsions! What
a thing it is to see authorities a-going it at each other. Gentlemen--gentlemen. Conwulsions!--ain't there lots of poor people in
the world? Don't you be a-going it at each other." "I am a magistrate," said Sir Richard. "And I am an over--seer. Ah!" "You may be an overseer or an underseer, if you like. I am going to
search the vaults of St. Dunstan's." The churchwarden now took the overseer aside, and after a while
succeeded in calming down his irascibility. "Oh, well--well," said Mr. Vickley. "Authorities is authorities; and if
so be as the horrid smell in the church can be got rid of, I'm as
willing as possible. It has often prevented me sleeping--I mean
listening to the sermon. Your servant, sir--I shall, of course, be very
happy to assist you." The beadle wiped his face with his large yellow handkerchief as he
said--

"Now this here is delightful and affecting, to see authorities agreeing
together. Lord, why should authorities snap each other's noses off, when
there's lots o' poor people as can be said anything to and done anything
to, and they may snap themselves?" "Well, well," added Mr. Vickley. "I am quite satisfied. Of course, if
there's anything disagreeable to be done in a church, and it can be done
among the free seats, it's all the better; and indeed, if the smell in
St. Dunstan's could have been kept away from the respectable part of the
congregation, I don't know that it would have mattered much." "_Conwulsions!_" cried the beadle. "It wouldn't have mattered at all,
gentlemen. But only think o' the bishop smelling it. Upon my life,
gentlemen, I did think, when I saw the Right Rev. Father in God's nose a
looking up and down, like a cat when she smells a bunch o' lights, and
knowed as it was all owing to the smell in the church, I did think as I
could have gone down through the floor, cocked hat and all, that I did. _Conwulsions_--that was a moment." "It was," said the churchwarden. "Mercy--mercy," said Mr. Vickley. The beadle was so affected at the remembrance of what had happened at
the confirmation, that he was forced to blow his nose with an energy
that produced a trumpet-like sound in the empty church, and echoed again
from nave to gallery. Sir Richard Blunt had let all the discourse go on
without paying the least attention to it. He was quietly waiting for the
foul vapours that arose from the vaults beneath the church to dissipate
a little before he ventured upon exploring them. Now, however, he
advanced and spoke. "Gentlemen, I hope I shall be able to rid St. Dunstan's of the stench
which for a long time has given it so unenviable a reputation." "If you can do that," said the churchwarden, "you will delight the whole
parish. It has been a puzzle to us all where the stench could come
from." "Where is the puzzle now?" said Sir Richard Blunt, as he pointed to the
opening in the floor of the church, from whence issued like a steamy
vapour such horrible exhalations. "Why, certainly it must come from the vaults." "But," said the overseer, "the parish books show that there has not been
any one buried in any of the vaults directly beneath the church for
thirty years." "Then," said the beadle, "it's a very wrong thing of respectable
parishioners--for, of course, them as has waults is respectable--to keep
quiet for thirty years and then begin stinking like blazes. It's
uncommon wrong--_conwulsions_!" Sir Richard Blunt took a paper from his pocket and unfolded it. "From this plan," he said, "that I have procured of the vaults of St.
Dunstan's, it appears that the stone we have raised, and which was
numbered thirty, discloses a stone staircase communicating with two
passages, from which all the vaults can be reached. I propose searching
them; and now, gentlemen, and you, Mr. Beadle, listen to me." They all three looked at him with surprise as he took another letter
from his pocket. "Here," he said, "are a few words from the Secretary of State. Pray read
them, Mr. Vickley." The overseer read as follows--

"The Secretary of State presents his compliments to Sir Richard Blunt,
and begs to say that as regards the affair at St. Dunstan's, Sir Richard
is to consider himself armed with any extraordinary powers he may
consider necessary." "Now, gentlemen," added Sir Richard Blunt, "if you will descend with me
into the vaults, all I require of you is the most profound secrecy with
regard to what you may see there. Do you fully understand?" "Yes," stammered Mr. Vickley, "but I rather think I--I would as soon not
go." "Then, sir, be silent regarding the going of others. Will you go, sir?" to the churchwarden. "Why yes, I--I think I ought." "I shall be obliged to go. I may feel the want of a witness. We will
take you with us, Mr. Beadle, of course." "Me--me? Conwulsions!" "Yes--yes. You go, you know, _ex officio_." "Ex, the deuce, I don't want to go. Oh conwulsions! conwulsions!" "We cannot dispense with your services," said the churchwarden. "If you
refuse to go, it will be my duty to lay your conduct before the vestry." "Oh--oh--oh!" "Get a torch," said Sir Richard Blunt, "and I will lower it down the
opening in the floor.