Ned began to step backward, dragging the object after him, while Walter threw open the doors leading to the vaults. By the glimmering of light thus obtained, they beheld the skeleton of a human body, held together by the articulations of the joints, the clothes, dried gristle, and sinews, being partially mummified.
Neither of the boys had ever seen the human skeleton before, or even so much as a bone, and this was to them a fearful sight—the teeth white and prominent, the eyeless sockets, and the remaining portion of the skull black with decayed flesh that still adhered to it (for the air was cool and dry, ventilation being in some way provided). The right hand had dropped off, the stump of the wrist projecting from the sleeve, while the blackened bones and shrivelled sinews of the left remained in place.
"It was a boy," said Ned; "you can see by the clothes."
"Poor fellow, he was about your size."
"His hair," said Ned, pointing to some brown locks that had lodged in the breast of the coat, "was just the color of yours. Think he was murdered?"
"I expect so, for it don't seem likely that a place as strong as this was given up without a struggle, unless it was occupied only by a family, or was surprised."
"Then, perhaps, there's more in there."
"Let us try to make some kind of a torch. I want to see all there is, and to find where this secret passage leads to that so much pains was taken to make and conceal."
Returning, the boys hunted over the great heap of rubbish in the hall, and searched every nook and corner in order to find a lamp or wax candle (which they knew were much used in that country), but in vain.
"O, if we were only at home," said Walter, "instead of being in this wretched country, how quick I could get a piece of pitch wood, or strip the bark from a birch tree, and make a first-rate torch; but there are no birches here, and no old pines with any pitch wood in 'em."