“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.