Crown and Sceptre Part 24

The two lads stood with the lanthorn held up, staring at the heap, and then at the rusty hinged door, and lastly at one another.

"Do you believe in enchantment, Fred?" said Scarlett, at last.

"No, not a bit. Enchantment, and witches, and goblins, and all those sort of things, are nothing but stuff, father says."

"But isn't it curious that we should have found ourselves here? It is the same, isn't it?"

"I think so. Yes, that's the way into the house," said Fred, staring along the dark pa.s.sage. "But I don't care whether it is or whether it isn't. My legs are so wet that I mean to get out as soon as I can."

Scarlett held the lanthorn up again, and had one more good look round.

Then, without a word, he turned, descended the steps into the water, and began to wade back.

"Oh, I say, it is wet!" grumbled Fred, as he followed the lanthorn, watching their grotesque shadows on the wall, the flashing of the light on the water, and the glimmering on the damp walls.

Neither of the lads spoke now as they waded on, for each was trying to puzzle out the problem of how it was that they should have journeyed backward; but no light came.

"I shall make it out," said Fred, "as soon as we get in the sunshine again. Go on a bit faster, Scar."

But there was no temptation to go faster, and the slow wading was continued, till a glimmering of light cheered them; and then quicker progress was made, for the opening seemed to send down more and more light as they approached, till they could see quite a fringe of roots, which had forced their way through the arch of rugged stones, and at last make out how the roof of the pa.s.sage had been driven in by the fall of the tree.

"Oh! there is something now," cried Scarlett, starting.

"What is it?"

"Something did touch my leg."

"Kick it!" cried Fred, huskily. "Look out, Scar! it's swimming towards you. Mind, mind!"

The boy had raised up his foot to kick, but placed it down again, for the terror proved to be a piece of rotten wood floating on the surface.

"How easy it is to be frightened!" said Scarlett, drawing a long breath, as they stood once more at the opening.

"Yes, far too easy," grumbled Fred. "I wish it wasn't. Shall I go up first, or will you?"

"Isn't it a pity to go up without finding the way?" said Scarlett, hesitatingly.

"It does seem to be; but I've had enough of it. Let's go up now."

"Shall we? I know we shall want to come down again."

"Yes," said Fred, hesitating; "I suppose we shall. Do you feel to mind it so much now?"

"I don't think so."

"Let's go on, then."

"Shall we, Fred?"

"Yes; didn't I say so?" cried Fred, crossly. "Go on; you've got the light."

Without another word, Scarlett held the light above his head.

"It seems very rum though, Scar. That must be the way to the house."

"Well, let's see."

Scarlett started once more with the lanthorn along the tunnel in the other direction, apparently toward the house, while, with a maliciously merry laugh on his face, Fred hung back, and half hid himself among the fallen wood and stones.

Scarlett went on quite a couple of dozen yards, talking the while, every word he said coming back as in a loud whisper distinctly to the mouth of the hole.

"Don't seem to get any deeper, Fred. I'm glad we came, because we shall find it out this time."

Fred chuckled and watched, and, to his surprise, he saw his companion and the light gradually disappear, leaving the tunnel in obscurity.

"Why, I shall have to go in the dark," cried Fred to himself. "Oh!"

And, startled more than he had startled his companion, he hurried after him, so eager to overtake the light that he nearly went headlong in the water, for his body went quicker than his legs.

"Hi! stop a minute, Scar!" he cried; and he noted, as he hurried on, that the pa.s.sage made a great curve, though it was so gradual that he could not tell its extent.

"Why, I thought you were close behind me," said Scarlett, as he overtook him. "Lean a little forward, and you'll find it easier to go along through the water. It's getting just a little deeper now."

"Then this must be the way to the lake, after all."

They persevered, going steadily on for some time, and, with the water gradually creeping up and up till it was mid-thigh, and then higher and higher till it was almost to their hips, and then they stopped.

"I shan't go any farther, Scar," cried Fred. "I don't want to have to swim."

"Yes, it is getting deep," said Scarlett, thoughtfully.

"Couldn't get a boat down here, could we!"

"No; but we might get one of the big tubs," replied Scarlett. "It would hold us both. Shall we go back now?"

"Yes; we're so horribly wet; but hold the lanthorn up higher, and--Oh, I say!"

Scarlett had obeyed, and raised it so high that the lanthorn struck slightly against the rough roof, and, as the candle happened to be already burning away in the socket, this was sufficient to extinguish it, and for the moment they were in total darkness, or so it seemed to them in the sudden change.

Then Fred cried exultantly, "Look! look!" and pointed to a bright, rough-looking star of light.

"Sunshine," cried Scarlett. "Then that is the entrance. Shall we go on?"

Fred had already squeezed by him, and was wading on toward the light, which proved to be not more than fifty feet away.

"Come along!" he cried; "it isn't very much deeper, only up to my middle now. Here, I'm touching it. This is the end, and--it's--it's--no, I can't quite make out where it is," he continued, as he darkened the hole by placing his face to it; "but I can see the lake, and I could see where, only there's a whole lot of ivy hanging down."

"Can you get your head through?"

"No; too small. Come and look."