Rusty caught him by the arm
"Here, I'm holding on now better, Rusty. Give me your hand." They both tugged, and he was soon safe, peering into the black opening together.
"That was a close call. Give me that lantern, Rusty!"
He dropped an old pewter cup, left on a side table, down the opening. There was a delayed, faint splash.
"Lord!—water and a long drop. No wonder people disappear in this castle. Great Scott! What if her brother fell in there? Rusty, whatever happens, keep clear of this. Get me a burned stick, and I'll mark a cross on it, so we can tell—it makes me nervous to see that open mouth of death gaping for us. If you step on this you'll never see Kentucky again, for sure."
Rusty obeyed.
"Did you hear that groan, Marse Warren?"
"Groan—that's the wind!... There it is again—it does sound like a moan."
"Ough!" and Rusty's teeth chattered in perfect rhythm with his shaking knees. "Ough!"
"Shut up! Listen ... I guess it's the wind, at that. But this place is getting on our nerves all right."