"What on earth has done this?" shrieked he.

"Done what?" asked Mr. Jenkins.

"Done what!" was the irascible echo. "Be you a fool, Joe Jenkins? Don't
you see the door's fast!"

"Unfasten it," said Jenkins sensibly.

Mr. Ketch proceeded to do so--at least to apply one of the keys to the
lock--with much fumbling. It apparently did not occur to him to wonder
how the locking-up process could have been effected, considering that
the key had been in his own possession.

Fumbling and fumbling, now with one key, now with the other, and then
critically feeling the keys and their wards, the truth at length burst
upon the unhappy man that the keys were not the right keys, and that he
and Jenkins were--locked in! A profuse perspiration broke out over him.

"They _must_ be the keys," remonstrated Mr. Jenkins.

"They are _not_ the keys," shrieked Ketch. "D'ye think I don't know my
own keys, now I come to feel 'em?"

"But they were your keys that fell down and that I picked up," argued
Jenkins, perfectly sure in his own mind that they could be no others.
"There was not a fairy in the cloisters to come and change them."

"Feel 'em!" roared Ketch, in his despair. "These be a couple of horrid,