"Shall we go up and see if it's really there?"
"What! Up into the belfry?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"Well, isn't it getting too late, and a little dark?"
"Not yet."
"All right, then," assented Cicely, agreeing as usual with Lindsay's proposal.
The small, nail-studded oak door leading to the tower stood open, and they could see that there was a winding staircase inside. There was nobody to forbid them to explore, and though they knew they were due back at the Manor they considered they might allow themselves a little latitude in the way of time. It was rather dark up the corkscrew stairs, though there was a slit every now and then in the wall to admit air and light. At the top they found themselves in a square room, where the clerk evidently pulled the bell on Sundays, for the rope was hanging within easy reach. The roof was made of enormous oak rafters, and through it ran a ladder reaching higher than they could see.
"That will be the way up to the bell," said Lindsay.
"What a horrible place for Sir Mervyn to climb!" commented Cicely. "I can imagine him rushing up with a dagger in his hand, and the others swarming after him. I'm almost sorry they killed him. He was very brave, although he was so bad. You go first, Lindsay."
Up and up they toiled, till they thought they should never reach the top.