XIV
The outside door stood open and no one was in the kitchen but Granny. The temptation to explore was irresistible.
"When the cat's away, the rats dance on the tray," the old grandmother muttered as if to herself.
"I'll just have a peep," Keith explained, turning to her for a moment. Then he made for the open door again.
The landing with its bare stone floor was familiar to him and quite barren of interest. What drew him magnetically was the tall archway leading to the mysterious upper regions known as the garret, where strange old women lived in hermit cells, and whence disturbing noises issued day and night. Even as he looked up there, he could hear a spookish grating that seemed to symbolize the spirit of the place. He shuddered a little, but not unpleasantly, for he knew what caused it.
In the brick wall ending the upward vista, he could see a square open hole with an iron shutter held open at right angles by an iron rod. As the wind shook the shutter, the rod scraped against the socket that held its hooked end. That was all--but on dark winter afternoons the effect was most disturbing.
"I'm not afraid," Keith announced, sensing his own bravery rather keenly.
"Why should you be," asked Granny.
Then he noticed the tall iron door fastened to one side of the arch in front of it. Now it was doubled up length-wise and folded back so as to leave the passage free.
"What's that for," he asked, pointing to the door.