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Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 3. How The Light Was Extinguished |
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_ 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 space 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 cluster 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?" "Oh, it's only a cupboard. Stop a moment." Scarlett went to the other side, crushing down the heap of rotten twigs brought in by the birds, and thrust his hand amongst the mass of sickly ivy strands, to find that the opening through which they came was completely choked up, but after a little feeling about he was able to announce that there was a narrow slit-like window, with an upright rusty iron bar. "Why, it will be glorious, Scar," cried Fred. "Let's clear the place out, and cut away the ivy, and then we can keep it all a secret." "Yes, and bring some furniture--chairs and table, and a carpet. Why, we might have a bed too." "How are you going to get them here?" Scarlett gave his dark curls a vicious rub. "I never thought of that." "Never mind; but we could bring some cushions, and store up fruit, and make this our cave. You will not tell anybody?" "I should think not." "Not even Lil." "No; she'd go and tell every one directly. Why, Fred, this will be splendid. What a discovery!" "When we've cleaned it up it will be a little palace." "And we can keep our stores in the closet there, and--Think there'll be any rats?" "No signs of any. Can't smell 'em." "They've never found their way here. Dare say there are some bats; but we'll soon clear them out. Wish there were a fireplace. We could cook the birds and fish we caught." "Let's see what's in the cupboard." Fred crossed the little chamber to the corner where the second door stood ajar, and it was so similar to the panelling that but for its being partly opened, it would not have been seen. This, too, gave forth a dismal hollow groan as it was drawn inward upon its concealed rusty hinges, and then, as Fred raised the light to see what was inside, he exclaimed-- "Why, it isn't a cupboard. Here's another flight of steps!" Scarlett pressed forward and stood beside him, peering beneath the candle, and looking down the dusty stone stairs into utter darkness beyond the faint light shed by the candle. Then he turned to Fred as he grasped his arm and looked inquiringly into his face. "I will if you will," said Fred, as if his companion had asked him a question. "Come along, then," cried Scarlett, excitedly. "Only let's keep together." "Of course. Shall I go first?" "No, I'll go," said Scarlett, after a momentary hesitation. He snatched the candle from his friend's hand, and took a step forward on to the little square landing. "Mind the door doesn't blow to. Push it wide open." Fred did as he was told, the rusty hinges giving forth another dismal groan, which seemed to echo hollowly and then to die away. "Come along," said Scarlett, in a low voice; and, holding the candle well before him, he began to descend the narrow steps, the distance from side to side being precisely the same as before. "Smells cold and damp," whispered Fred, when they had descended about twenty steps; "just like a wine cellar." "Perhaps it is one when we get to the bottom, and full of old wine." "Are there many more steps?" "Can't see. Shall we go any farther?" "Oh yes; we'll go to the bottom, as we are here." "Stop a moment. What was that?" "I didn't hear anything." "Yes; there it is again." "Sounded like a drip of water in a pool." "Perhaps it's a well." "They wouldn't make a well here. Let's go to the bottom, and then be satisfied for one day." "Take hold of hands then, in case." "In case of what?" "There may be foul air at the bottom, same as there was in the Manor well." "You are saying that to frighten me." "No." "Well, it sounded like it. Let's go on." The two explorers of this hidden way went on down and down, with the sounds made by their feet echoing strangely; but still there were fresh steps, and the distance seemed in their excited state to be tremendous. Scarlett, however, persevered, though his movements were slower and slower; and more than once he turned back to hold the light as high as possible, so as to gaze up at the way they had come, looking over his shoulder, and still holding tightly by Fred's hand. "We must be right down ever so much below the house," he said at last. "Shall we go any farther?" "Oh yes, I'd go on," replied Fred, quietly; and once more the two lads gazed in each other's eyes as if looking for signs of fear. "Come along then," cried Scarlett, manfully; and he went down and down more steps to stand at last on level stones, a narrow passage stretching out before him, while the stone walls and ceiling gleamed as if slightly damp. "Hold the light up a little higher, Scar," whispered Fred. Scarlett raised his left hand to the full length of his arm; there was a soft _dab_, and Fred uttered a subdued "Oh!" as his companion's right hand grasped his with spasmodic violence. For Scarlett had pressed the candle up against the stone ceding, and the arched surface thoroughly performed the duty of extinguisher, leaving them in total darkness. Half a minute must have passed, during which they were stunned by the horror of their position, before Scarlett exclaimed-- "Oh, Fred, what shall we do?" There was no answer, Fred holding the other's hand tightly, and it was not until the question was repeated that he uttered a low gasping sigh. "We can find our way back," he whispered, in an awe-stricken voice. "There's nothing to mind, for we can't go wrong." "But we might take a wrong turning, and never find our way out." "There are no turnings," replied Fred, stolidly. "Come along." "Listen! Wasn't that something?" "I don't hear anything, only the echo. Hoi!" Fred half shouted the last word, and as they listened it seemed to run right away in an echoing, hollow way, to die at last in quite a whisper. "What a horrible place!" faltered Scarlett. "Let's make haste back. I say, don't you feel scared?" "I don't know," whispered back Fred. "I feel as if I do. I'd give anything to be out in the sunshine again, and I wish we had not come. Let's make haste." Scarlett needed no further urging, but pressed on so closely behind his companion that they seemed to move as one, Fred passing his hand along the cold stone wall as they went on, up and up the apparently endless flight of steps, till the landing was reached, and the leader grasped the door. "There!" he cried, as they passed into the little room, Scarlett closing the door behind them, the hinges creaking dismally. "Now for the other door. I don't seem to mind so much now." "I don't think I do; but it seems very queer. What's that?" "Only me. I touched you with my hand." "It felt so cold on my cheek, it sent a shiver through me. Let's make haste." "You go first this time, then. You remember where the door is?" "Yes, I remember," replied Scarlett. "It was just a few steps over here and--I say, Fred, it's gone!" "Nonsense! It can't have gone. Feel about with your hands." Scarlett felt here and there, and then uttered a low sigh. "I can't find it. Come over here." Fred crept to him, and as he felt about in the utter darkness, he touched his companion, who uttered a cry and rushed away from him. "Don't be a coward, Scar. It was only I." "I'm not a coward," cried Scarlett, angrily; "only I fancied something was going to touch me, and you came so quietly. Where are you?" "Here. And, I say, you made me turn about, and I don't know which nay the door is now. But we'll soon find it." Nothing seems more simple to talk of, but nothing is more confusing than to be standing in profound darkness, not knowing which way to go, the slightest deviation beginning the confusion, which seems to augment. Fred's attempt to regain touch of their position was simple enough. He went forward, and after a step or two touched the wall. "Here we are, Scar," he said. "Come along. The door is just here. Yes; here it is." He seized the edge, and it gave forth its dismal creak again. "That's the wrong door," cried Scarlett, excitedly. "The one we just came through." "Is it?" said Fred, confusedly. "Yes, I suppose it is. Then we must try again. How stupid!" The second trial was more successful; and slowly and cautiously passing through, they began directly after to make their way along the first passages they had traversed, feeling their course round the angles at the sharp turns, and with their spirits rising fast as they felt that they were approaching the entrance; and as they at last reached it, with the daylight shining through, feeling ready to laugh at their fears. "Here we are, Scar," cried Fred, as he lay down and rolled himself over and over till he was in the hollow stair, and directly after climbed out, bent down and took the candlestick from his companion's hand, leaving him free to follow, but Scarlett uttered a cry. "What's the matter?" "Something has got hold of my jerkin." Fred burst out laughing. "Why, it's only that knob. Meant to open the stair from inside, I suppose." _Crick-crack_! The board was drawn back into its place, and the boys went slowly down into the hall. "Why, Scar, you look quite white." "Do I? So do you," was the reply. "Look, we're covered with dust. Come along, and let's go to my room and have a wash." "And then we can sit down and talk about it." Scarlett nodded; and once more ascending the stairs, they passed over the secret entry, unlocked the door in the corridor, and entered Scarlett's bedchamber, where it took some time to get rid of the marks of their journey. After which they sat down in the sunshine by the open window, to discuss their find, and settle two or three points in connection therewith. _ |
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