“We’ll begin in the cellar,” said Elizabeth.
The cellar, explored inch by inch by the aid of lantern and candle, yielded nothing but resolutions that it should be thoroughly whitewashed as soon as possible.
“We can store bushels and barrels of stuff there,” said Elizabeth as they came upstairs. “Now the first floor.”
Beside the fireplace in the parlor were two deep cupboards for wood. These had been looked into often, but Elizabeth examined them again and scrutinized them earnestly to be sure that they contained no secret compartments. But the interior was plastered smoothly.
On the first floor there were no other cupboards or closets, and the other rooms, occupied as a kitchen and as bedrooms, had been lived in for too many weeks to hold any secrets.
At the top of the first flight of stairs, Elizabeth stood still.
“Herbert, this place has inexhaustible possibilities! See these many rooms, how easily we could make this a comfortable place for quiet people in summer! Water could be piped down from one of the springs. I know that gravity alone would carry it higher than the house-top. I wonder whether John Baring thought of that!”
Elizabeth went into the first room. It was large and bare and offered no place of storage. She passed into the next and there for a moment she forgot the purpose of her search. The view from the front door was extensive, but from the second floor one could look over a spur of the mountain to the right and see other miles of rain-drenched plain.
“There isn’t anything here, Elizabeth,” said Herbert.
“No, nothing. Now we’ll try the attic. That’s the traditional hiding-place for documents.”