Somewhat grey about the jaws, he swung about.
"Very well," shortly. "Just a peep—no more, mind!"
CHAPTER LXIV
RUMBLINGS OF THUNDER
The boy slid down the ladder into the gloom of the kitchen.
There was no familiar silver head at its wonted place of watch by the loop-hole.
"Piper!"
"Sir!"
The old foretop-man was sitting beside the trapdoor, peering down into the blackness of the cellar, and listening intently.
"That you, Master Kit? Would you step this way, sir? There keeps on a kind of a rumbling like in the drain—a'most as though the gentlemen be running a cargo. I ca'ant justly make it out."