The cellar passage had become a dark tempest of rushing water, icy spray, and panicked shouts.
The two thieves scrambled across the wet flags on their hands and knees, completely disoriented in the pitch blackness.
"Where are the stairs?" the taller man screamed over the roaring water pipe.
"I can't see a thing!" the second man yelled back, his shoulder slamming into an oak support pillar.
Vane observed the chaotic scene from his dry sanctuary on top of the steel vault door frame.
He knew that the rising water could not enter the vault itself because the steel door was fitted with a rubber pressure gasket.
However, the rising water level on the floor was rapidly approaching the main electrical junction box mounted on the lower wall.
If the water reached the live terminals, the entire electrical system of Ironwood Manor would short-circuit, plunging the security perimeter into darkness.
Vane scurried along the upper ceiling joists toward the junction box.
He reached the grey steel enclosure just as the water level touched the bottom conduit fitting.
Bright blue electrical arcs began to flash inside the box, crackling against the wet metal.
Vane knew he had only seconds before the main transformer fuse blew out.
He used his nose to flip the heavy rubber-coated isolation breaker on the side of the box.
The breaker clicked off with a solid thud, cutting power to the cellar circuit while preserving the main electrical system of the house above.
The blue sparks ceased instantly, leaving the cellar safe from electrical fire.
Down below, the two men had finally located the base of the stone stairs.
They hauled themselves up the steps, coughing, gasping, and shivering violently in their soaked clothes.
"That basement is a death trap," the second man wheezed as they collapsed onto the kitchen floor.
"We still have the combination ledger," the taller man gasped, pulling the wet leather book from his jacket. "We just need to shut off the main water valve outside."
Vane followed their movements from the joist spaces beneath the kitchen floorboards.
He saw that both men were thoroughly drenched, freezing cold, and visibly trembling from the ice-cold reservoir water.
Their aggressive confidence had completely evaporated.
"I am going back to the delivery van to get a pipe wrench and dry clothes," the second man said, rubbing his wet arms.
"Go," the taller man replied. "I will wait in the library and review the combination numbers."
The taller man walked into the library and dropped heavily into a large leather armchair near the unlit hearth.
He placed his wet leather satchel on the mahogany side table beside his chair, leaving the bag wide open.
Inside that satchel lay the paper containing the decrypted vault combination.
Vane navigated the interior wall channels behind the library bookcases, emerging on the high gallery molding directly above the table.
The leather satchel sat open below, its brass buckle undone.
Vane evaluated the vertical distance from the gallery molding down to the table surface.
It was a drop of nine feet to the polished wood below.
For a ferret of his remarkable athletic conditioning, such a jump was well within his capabilities.
He coiled his hind legs tight beneath his body, aiming precisely for the leather strap of the satchel.
With a smooth, silent leap, Vane launched himself into the open air of the library.
He landed silently on the edge of the leather bag, his sharp claws absorbing the momentum.
He reached inside the open pocket with his front paws and snagged the folded combination paper between his teeth.
The man in the armchair stirred, wiping his wet face with a handkerchief.
Vane gripped the paper tightly and bounds from the table to the lower shelf of the nearest bookcase.
He slipped behind a set of leather-bound encyclopedias just as the man turned his head.
"What was that motion?" the man muttered, squinting into the dim corners of the room.
He reached out to check his satchel and felt inside the main compartment.
His jaw dropped in sheer astonishment as his fingers found only empty leather.
"Where is the combination paper?" he yelled, tipping the entire contents of the satchel onto the table.
Wet pens, brass keys, and hand tools spilled across the wood, but the paper had vanished completely.
Behind the encyclopedias, Vane let out a quiet, satisfied breath through his nose.
The intruders were now stranded without a key and without a code, completely at the mercy of the estate's hidden guardian.