The sand trickled from it in a stream, and then all of a sudden I became aware that I had pierced through the stone into a hole behind, and I bent over to see how this could be.
The stone was not more than an inch or two thick, and there was certainly a hollow which it closed, and when I saw that I broke and worked away more of it until I could get my hand in.

Then I found that I could feel nothing, for the place was deep.

So I made the hole bigger yet, and put my arm in.

Then I found the back and one side of a stone-cased chest in the wall, as it were, of which the stone I had bored was the door, though this was to all appearance like several other of the larger blocks that the place was built of.
When I reached downwards my hand could just touch what felt like rotten canvas, and at that I began to work again at the hole.

The stone was too strong to break, though it seemed thin, and I was so intent on this, that the voices I had longed to hear made me start.
"He was hereabouts, master, when I last saw him," said one whom I thought was Spray the smith.
"I will hang you up if he is lost," said Wulfnoth's voice.
Then I sprang up and shouted, and the vault rang painfully in my ears.