Chapter 8. The Subterranean Way

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_ CHAPTER EIGHT. THE SUBTERRANEAN WAY

Scarlett hung there from the hazel bough staring, and for a few moments utterly unable to realise that which his companion had said, till Fred gave himself a shake, like a great dog coming out of the water, and by degrees got one leg free, then the other, trampling down the broken wood, and standing at last on a level with his companion.

"Did you think it was deep?" said the lad.

"Deep? Yes; I did not know how deep. Then it is not a well?"

"Why, of course not. Don't you see it's the passage we were looking for, and it does go down to the lake."

"The passage?"

"Of course. Look, you can see a little both ways. Of course the top's broken in here. Isn't it droll that we should find it like this. But oh! my head. I gave it such a crack when I fell. It served me just as if I was a rabbit. I don't know how long I've been like that."

Scarlett could not answer him, so excited had he become at the strange turn things had taken.

"There, my head's better now," said Fred, as he sat at the edge of the hole after climbing lightly out: and as he spoke he amused himself by kicking down fragments of the side to listen to the echoing splash. "What do you say to going up to the house for a light? No; let's get Nat's stable lanthorn, and then go down here and see where the way out goes."

"I know," cried Scarlett, eagerly.

"Where?"

"Why, down there, right away by the old tree clump--right out yonder."

"There can't be a way out there, because we should have seen it."

"Perhaps it's covered up so as to keep it hidden till it was wanted."

"Let's go and see. But, stop a moment. We don't want another way in, now we've got this."

"No," said Scarlett. "I don't know, though. Let's go and see."

"All right; it will dry my legs," replied Fred. And, getting up, the two lads made their way down to the head of the little bay nearest to the house, and then worked along among the alders which hung over the lake till they came to the part of the old forest Scarlett had named--an evergreen patch of about an acre, on which stood a dozen or two of the finest trees in the park.

"Why," cried Scarlett, "I remember old Dee--"

"Nat's father?"

"Yes--saying that there once used to be a boathouse down here."

"Then, why didn't we look there first?"

"Because it was not a likely place, all that distance away."

Neither did it seem a likely place now, as they climbed over a rough, moss grown fence, and entered the unfrequented spot, to find old masses of rock peering out of the soil, ancient trees coated with ivy, and an abundance of thick undergrowth such as they had been fighting with a short time before.

The task was less difficult, and they spent the next half-hour hunting along the edge of the lake, whose shore here was for the most part high and rocky, but broken here and there by shrubby patches of gorse and heather, in company with fine old birches, whose silvery trunks were reflected in the lake.

"I knew you were wrong," said Fred at last, as he sat down in a sunny spot to let his legs dry, "it couldn't be here."

"Why not?"

"Because, if it were here, we should have found it."

Scarlett said nothing, but stood at the edge of the rocky bank, now looking down into the water, now toward the bushes which were overhanging the lake. There were plenty of rather likely places, but none quite likely enough, and reluctantly agreeing at last that he might have been mistaken, he turned slowly away from the ivy covered perpendicular bank, and sauntered slowly back with his companion in silence.

"My legs are getting drier now," said Fred, suddenly. "What do you say--shall we fetch a lanthorn, and go down into the passage?"

"I don't see what you want with dry legs, if you are going to wade," replied Scarlett, thoughtfully.

"You don't want to go."

"Yes, I do."

"You're afraid."

"Perhaps so," replied Scarlett; "but you are not, so let's go and get the lanthorn."

A quarter of an hour later, the lanthorn was secretly obtained, lighted, and a supply of pieces of candle included, and then the question arose, How were they to get it down to the little wilderness unseen?

"Somebody would be sure to come and look what we were doing."

"I know," cried Scarlett. "Let's get a big bucket, and a couple of rods, and they'll think we are going to fish."

The idea was accepted at once, and the lads marched off, rods over shoulder, and the bucket swinging between them, its light unseen in the broad sunshine. The place was soon reached, and, taught by experience, they found a better way to the prostrate oak, and after a little struggling and scratching, stood gazing down.

"Look hear, Scar," cried Fred, "if we find a better way in, we can easily cover this place over with some old branches and fern roots, because it must be a secret way, or it's of no use."

Scarlett quite agreed to this, and there they stood gazing up at the arrowy beams of sunshine which shot down through the leaves. Then they had a look down into the hole which, with its watery floor and darkness, was anything but tempting.

"Don't look very nice, Scar, does it?"

"Not at all. Shall we give it up?"

"If we do, as soon as we get home, we shall say what cowards we were."

"Yes, I shall," replied Scarlett, "but, all the same, I don't want to go down. Do you?"

"No."

"And you don't want me to go alone?"

"No, I don't think so. Here, Scar, don't let's give ourselves a chance to call ourselves cowards. I'll go, if you will."

"I don't want to go, but I will, if you will. Come along."

The hesitation was gone.

"I'll go first," said Scar, "because you have been down, but I suppose we must be careful so as not to loosen any stones."

"Very well," said Fred, rather unwillingly. "Give me the lanthorn to hold."

The light was drawn out of the bucket, and Scarlett prepared to descend; but this proved it longer task than was expected, for it was first necessary to drag out several pieces of broken branch.

This being done, Scarlett looked up at his companion, who let himself down without hesitation, and they stood together with the daylight above them, and the narrow lugged stone passage stretching away to right and left.

"Which way shall we go first?" asked Scarlett.

"This way," cried Fred, and his voice sounded so strange and hollow, that as he stood there up to his knees in water, which glimmered and shimmered on the black surface, he hesitated and wished that he had not agreed to go.

For there before them lay a narrow path of light, ending in quite a sharp point, and seeming to point to the end of their journey.

They both told themselves that they were not likely to meet anything that would do them harm, but, all the same, neither of them could help wondering whether there would be any unpleasant kind of fish in the depths as they neared the lake. That word depth, too, troubled them. It was easy enough to wade now, but suppose it should grow deeper suddenly, and they should step into some horrible hole. Suppose--

"Look here," cried Fred, suddenly, as they waded slowly on, listening to the whisper and splash of the water, "I wish you'd be quiet with your suppose this, and suppose that. You don't want to frighten me, do you?"

"Why, I never spoke," cried Scar.

"Then you must have been thinking aloud, for it seemed to me as if you were saying things on purpose to scare me."

"Well, it is enough to scare anybody, Fred; and I don't mind saying to you that I don't like it."

"But we will not go back?"

"No."

"Only you might hold the light a little higher."

Scarlett obeyed, and they cautiously went on, with the water still about the same depth, and for prospect above, before, and on either side, there was the arch of rugged stones, the dripping wall, and the gleaming water.

That was all, and after going about fifty yards, Fred exclaimed--

"I say, this can never be of any use to us. Who's going to wade through water for the sake of having a secret place?"

"Nobody," replied Scarlett; "but let's go on, as we've gone so far."

"Ugh!"

"What's the matter?" cried Scarlett, stopping short suddenly.

"I thought something laid hold of my leg. Mind!"

Scarlett nearly dropped the lanthorn. "Oh, I say, Scar, that would be too horrible. Do be careful. I don't want to be in the dark again."

"It was your fault, you pretending to be frightened."

"I didn't pretend. I was frightened. It did seem as if something touched my leg. I say, how much farther do you think it is?"

"What! to the end? I don't know. Come along."

"Well, if anyone had told me that I should do such a thing as this, I wouldn't have believed him," grumbled Fred. "How cold the water feels!"

"You wouldn't mind if it was one of the streams, and we were after trout."

"No; because it would be all light and warm there, and we could see what we were doing. Don't you think we might go back?"

"No. Let's go to the end now. I'm sure this is the way down to the lake, and we shall find the entrance. Perhaps we shall find the end blocked up, and then when we open it all the water will rush out, and we shall have a dry passage after all."

"Then you will not give it up?"

"No," said Scarlett, doggedly. "It's our place, and I want to be able to tell father all about it."

"No, no; don't do that," cried Fred, in dismay.

"I don't mean yet. I mean when we've done with it."

"I've done with it now," muttered Fred. "I don't see any fun in going sop, sop, squeeze, squatter, through all this cold, dark water. Eh! what's that--the end of it?"

"I think so," said Scarlett, holding the lanthorn up as high as he could. "Here are some steps and a door."

"Of course; then that must be the door that opens on the lake."

"No, it can't be, for the steps are dry, and--I say, Fred!"

"What is it?"

"Look here," cried Scarlett. "This is strange. Here's a chamber or cellar."

"Just like the other we found."

"Like it," cried Scarlett; "why, it is it!"

"What nonsense! That one was toward the house. This one is toward the lake."

"Nonsense or no, there's the old armour in the corner."

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 passage. "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 passage 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 passage 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."

Fred made way for his companion, and, while he was peering through, the other amused himself by feeling the flat surface which stopped farther progress, and soon made out that there was a wall of rugged stone, built up evidently to stop the entrance; and this was matted together with ivy strands and roots which had forced their way in.

"Yes," said Scarlett, at last, as he drew away; "this is the entrance, and now we've got to find it from outside."

"Yes; but how?"

"Oh, we shall soon find it. Get the boat, and hunt all along till we find a place that has been built like a wall, and then search for this hole."

"And how about the ivy all over it?"

Scarlett was silent for a while.

"I had forgotten all about the ivy," he said.

"If we could tell about where it was, I dare say we could soon find it."

"Yes, but we can't tell yet."

"And we shan't find out by stopping here, Scar; and oh, I say--"

"What's the matter?"

"The water's right up in my pockets. Come along back."

"But we've got to go in the dark."

"Can't help it. I don't mind so much now, for we can't go wrong. Come along."

Fred took the lead now, and they went steadily back, feeling their way along by the damp wall, and casting back from time to time regretful looks at the bright star of light, which grew less and less, and then disappeared; but as it passed from sight, they saw to their great delight that there was a faint dawn, as it were, on ahead, and this grew brighter and brighter, till they seemed to turn a corner, and saw the bright rays shooting down through the hole, which they reached with a rather confused but correct notion that about here the passage took a double curve, somewhat in the shape of the letter S; but they were too eager to get out into the wood again to give much attention to the configuration of the place.

"Hah!" exclaimed Fred, taking a long breath, and then beginning to squeeze the water out of his nether garment, "that's better. I say, hadn't we better hide this hole?"

"I don't think we need; nobody ever comes here. Let's go and have a look down by the lake." _

Read next: Chapter 9. Something The Matter

Read previous: Chapter 7. Fred Takes A Jump

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