Crown and Sceptre Part 4

"Go on, then."

Fred hesitated a few moments, and then holding the candle as far forward as he could he lay down, but instead of rolling, shuffled himself along under the landing, finding plenty of room for his journey, and pushing the light onward as he crept sidewise.

"Coming, Scar?" he whispered rather hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes, I'm coming. Mind the candle doesn't set fire to anything. What's that?"

"Only a cobweb burning. The place is full of them; and--Oh, Scar!"

"What is it?"

"I can get my legs down here, and--yes, it's a narrow pa.s.sage, and I can stand upright."

Wondering more and more, Scarlett shuffled along to his companion, and directly after they were standing together in a pa.s.sage so strait that they could barely pa.s.s along it as they stood square, their shoulders nearly touching the sides.

"Yes, it's a pa.s.sage, sure enough," said Scarlett, in an awe-stricken whisper, as by the light Fred held he could see that the sides and ceiling were of rough oak panelling, the floor being flagged with stone.

"Shall we go on?" whispered Fred.

"Yes. Why not? You're not afraid, are you?"

"Yes, a little. It's all so strange. Don't you feel a little--"

"Yes, just a little; but there can't be any thing to be afraid of. You must go first."

Fred hesitated a few moments, and then went on for quite forty feet, when the narrow pa.s.sage turned off at a right angle for about another twenty, when it again bent sharply round in the same direction as at first.

"This cannot be a chimney?" whispered Scarlett, for the darkness and heavy dusty air seemed to oppress them.

"No; they wouldn't make a chimney of wainscotting. Oh!"

"What have you found?"

"Look here; a lot of stone steps."

The boys stood looking at the old stone stairway, which seemed to invite them to a higher region, but still as narrow as the pa.s.sage.

The stones were dusty, and cobwebs hung in all directions; but everything seemed as if it had been unused ever since the architect put the finishing touches to the place.

The two boys looked at the stairway, Fred holding up the candle, and Scar peering over his shoulder for some moments before the former spoke.

"Think we'd better go back now."

"Yes," said Scarlett; "only doesn't it seem cowardly?"

Fred remained silent for a while, and then said with a sigh--

"I suppose it does. Come on."

"Are you going up?"

"Yes. I don't want to. It's all so dark and creepy; but we should laugh at each other for being frightened when we got out."

Scar nodded his head, and after a little more hesitation, Fred went slowly up the stairs, to find that from the top another narrow pa.s.sage went off at right angles.

As they stood together on the narrow landing, Scar exclaimed--

"Here, I know. These are only openings through the thick walls to keep them dry."

"Look!" said Fred, pointing before them at a thin pencil of light which made a spot on the wall.

"That's sunshine," cried Scarlett, "and shows what I said. This is one of the walls we are in, and that must be the south."

"Why?" said Fred, trying to touch the slit through which the light came.

"Because the sun shines in. Let's go on to the end."

This was soon reached, for at the end of a dozen steps they came upon a narrow door studded with great nails, and after a little hesitation, Fred pushed this, and the boys started back at the hideous groan which greeted them.

CHAPTER THREE.

HOW THE LIGHT WAS EXTINGUISHED.

There was something very strange and weird about that sound--one which sent a chill of horror through both the hearers, but they laughed the next moment at their fears, for the noise was only such as could be given out by a pair of rusty hinges from which an unused door had hung for a hundred years, the sound being rendered more startling from the hollow s.p.a.ce beyond.

Fred felt more startled than ever, in spite of his forced laugh; but he held the candle before him, and gazed through the narrow opening into a little low-ceiled room, panelled throughout with oak, and festooned with cobwebs, while on one side there was quite a cl.u.s.ter of long, thin, white-looking strands and leaves hanging over and resting upon a heap of crumbling, fungus-covered sticks.

"Why, it's quite a little chamber," Scarlett exclaimed; "and look at the ivy. It has come in through that loop-hole."

"And look at that old jackdaw's nest. I say, Scar, can your father know of this place?"

"No, nor any one else. But it is queer. A regular secret chamber."

"Yes, but what's it for?"

"I don't know. Must have been made when the house was built to keep the plate in for fear of robbers."

"Look at the spiders! There's a big one!"

"Yes, but I'm trying to puzzle out where it is. I know. It must be somewhere at the west corner, because that's where there is most ivy."

"But is it upstairs or downstairs?"

"Up, of course; and look here."

Scarlett pointed to what had at first escaped their sight--to wit, a second door, ingeniously contrived in one angle of the little chamber, and in the dim light shed by the candle hardly distinguishable from the panelling.

"Where can that go?"