"Where are we?"
"How can I tell?"
"We seemed to tumble through the bottom of the settle."
"Yes, after you gave that great lurch to your end."
"We must be in another secret hiding-place."
"Then I vote we hunt about, and see what's in it."
One side of the small room was completely filled, as high as the ceiling, with a pile of boxes. They seemed a very miscellaneous collection. There were ancient hair trunks, such as were in use seventy or eighty years ago, made of wood covered with cow hide, with the hair left on; there were leather portmanteaux with strong brass corners, tin trunks, and even plain wooden packing-cases. On the floor, and leaning against the boxes, stood a row of fair-sized linen bags, and a couple of larger sacks.
It seemed to the girls as if they must have penetrated to some forgotten lumber room. Everything was thickly covered with the accumulated dirt and cobwebs of years. They could have written their names in the dust. As if she were moving in a dream, Lindsay stooped, and picked up one of the linen bags.
"How heavy it is!" she said. "I wonder what's inside?"
"It feels like something hard," replied Cicely, pinching it critically with her finger and thumb.