"There isn't anything to drink either, and I'm getting so thirsty," she said, her eyes filling with tears.
"We must try again," declared Lindsay, jumping up. "Let us pull out another trunk, and manage to lift it on to the chest. I believe if I were nearer the ceiling I should be able to push harder."
The boxes were arranged in a rather random fashion, so that as the girls dragged one from the bottom, the whole pile came tumbling down in confusion. They had to jump aside to avoid being hurt. When the upset was over, Cicely pointed silently to the wall opposite. In the part which before had been hidden was a small, low door. Here, surely, was a chance of escape.
They scrambled over the packing-cases and trunks without troubling to look inside them, though some had burst open in the fall. To find a way out seemed at present far more important than more silver tankards and salvers.
Was this exit also secured? With trembling hands Lindsay raised the latch. To her intense relief the door opened, showing a very narrow, unlighted passage.
After their experience in the garret it was not encouraging to find themselves once more obliged to explore in the dark, but there seemed nothing else to be done.
"It must lead somewhere," said Cicely. "I'd rather go anywhere than stay here."
"We'd better step carefully, in case the floor is as rotten as it was in the other place," cautioned Lindsay. The passage smelled dank and close. The air in it had probably been unstirred for many years. The faint light which entered it from the treasure room was soon lost, and they were obliged to grope their way by feeling along the walls. On and on they went for what appeared to be a considerable distance, sometimes turning sharp corners, and sometimes going up or down rickety steps.
"It must run half round the house," said Cicely. "Shall we never get to the end?"