They went together to the panel by the staircase, and entered. Geoffrey lit the candle he had left there, and preceding Harry, who made no comment beyond unintelligible mutterings, stopped opposite the back of old Francis's portrait.
"The second secret door," he said, opening it; "the door I discovered first. I'll show you afterward how to get in from the outside. And here," he said, pointing to the recess, "here I found this candle and the matches. Convenient."
"That candle," said Harry; "why, it is nearly new; it is not dusty, and the matches, too—used they to use matches——" and he stopped suddenly. "Give me the candle a minute, Geoff," he said.
He looked at the crest and monogram on it, and returned it.
"Come on," he said, with something of an effort. "Let's see where the passage leads."
"What's the matter?" asked the other.
"Nothing; get on."
They went down to the outer door, and looked at it again from the outside. Though he had been through it twice that morning, yet, when it was closed, Geoffrey could not see where it was, so perfect was the joining of it.
"And the bit of broken brick is the handle to pull it to," said Harry, with interest. But he was visibly preoccupied, and his delight was clouded; there was no childish joy in him. Geoffrey guessed the reason for it, and at lunch afterward Harry spoke.
"That was a candle of Uncle Francis's, Geoff," he said. "It was his monogram," and he looked up as if expecting that his information was surprising. But Geoffrey went on eating quite calmly.