Part 17 (1/2)
”I won't insist on blindfolding you, Miss Calmour,” he said, with a smile, ”but I'll ask you just to look out of that window for a minute.”
”Certainly,” she said. ”Why, this is more than interesting.”
”That'll do. Thanks.”
”Can I look?”
”Yes.”
The inner wall of the gallery was patterned faintly in large squares diagonally divided, so that you might see in them squares or triangles according to the caprice of the eye. Now, where one of these squares had been Delia saw a dark aperture easily large enough to admit the body of a man. It was about a yard and a half from the ground.
”What was it used for?” she said, as her eyes becoming more accustomed to the gloom she made out a narrow, oblong chamber, or rather closet, about eight feet by four, and running parallel with the wall.
”A priest's hiding-place. There is still a sprinkling of them to be seen in our old country houses, more or less perfect still.”
”This one seems perfect. But how did they get light and air?”
”They didn't get much of the first. For the last, there's a small winding shaft that opens under the roof.”
”And did they spend days in here? It must have been dreadful.”
”Not to them, because their mission was in its highest sense the reverse of dreadful. But there was a dreadful side to it, for at that time every one of them who came to this country came with the quartering block and boiling pitch before his eyes, as, sooner or later, his certain end. You can imagine, then, that to such men there would be nothing very dreadful in spending a few days in a place like this.”
”Of course not. What a stupid remark of mine.”
”As a matter of fact, the last to use this place met with just that fate. He was a relation, and was captured in that avenue which was the route of the procession this day last week.”
”How terrible,” said Delia, gazing with renewed awe into the gloomy chamber. ”How you must venerate this place, Mr Wagram.”
”Well, you can imagine we do; in fact, it isn't often shown.”
”Oh, then I do feel honoured--I mean it seriously.”
He smiled.
”Have you seen enough? because if so we'll shut it up again.”
”One minute. How does it open and shut? Why, it isn't a mere panel, it's a solid block of stone.”
”Ah, that's the secret of it. It is easily opened from within if you know how; but from without--well, it has never been discovered. The secret has been handed down among ourselves. It is always known to three persons, of which, needless to say, I am one.”
”How interesting! But if I were in there, and you and the other two were not get-at-able, what then?”
”You might as well be buried alive. Now, oblige me by looking out of that window once more.”
”If I mayn't look, may I listen?”
”Certainly. Now you may turn again. Well, what did you hear?”
”Nothing.”