Part 8 (2/2)
The boy had stopped half a dozen steps down, and he was stooping and holding the candle as far as he could stretch as Scarlett reached his side.
”Water?”
”Yes; water.”
”What is it--a well?”
”I don't know. We could soon tell, if we had a stick. Here! what are those at the side?”
They went back to the heap of old iron, and to their surprise found that it was a collection of old arms and armour, rusted almost beyond recognition.
From this heap they dragged a long sword, one which must have been heavy, but which was now little better than a thin collection of scales.
”This will do,” said Fred, returning to the farther doorway, and descending till he was on the lowest step, where, reaching out, he tried to sound the depth.
This proved an easy task, for, as near as they could make out, the water was about a yard deep, and the steps went to the bottom, where all was level ground.
They stretched out the lights, and gazed before them to where the retreating pa.s.sage grew lower and lower, till the top of the arch seemed to have dipped down and touched the black water; and having satisfied themselves that no farther progress could be made, Fred turned and said, as he rubbed one ear--
”Now, if we were fishes or water-rats, we might find out some more.
But, I say, Scar, we've taken a deal of trouble to find out very little.”
”I think we've found out a great deal,” replied Scarlett. ”This is no well. It's the edge of the lake, and this--”
”Nonsense!”
”I feel sure it is, and this must be a secret way into the house, hidden under water. Fred, we must have a search outside, and see if we can't find the place.”
”Then you will not stay here any longer?” said Fred, throwing down the sword upon the rusty heap.
”No; let's go back now. We have found out a very curious thing; and if we can discover the way in from outside, it will be splendid.”
”Come along, then,” replied Fred, crossing to the heap of old armour, and stooping over it, candle in hand. ”But I wonder how old these things are. Do you think we could clean the armour, and make it look bright again?”
Scarlett shook his head as he picked up the remains of an old helmet.
”It must have been a time of war when this house was built,” he said thoughtfully; ”and the secret pa.s.sage was forgotten when it became a time of peace.”
”But it is not a time of peace now, is it? I heard that there would very likely be war.”
”Who told you that?”
”I heard your father and my father talking about it; and they both grew cross, and your father soon got up and went home.”
”Then your father must have said something he did not like against the king.”
”My father does not like the king,” said Fred, sharply.
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