"Walls usually are steep," came the grim rejoinder.
"Ivy might be rotten. You ain't much good at climbing," ventured Hugh.
"Because I'm never the one to show off," said Bert quickly. "I'm not much good. That I'll admit. At the same time I'm going up to that window, or be smashed to a jelly down here. Naturally, as I dislike the thought of being smashed into a jelly, I shall hang on for all I'm worth, so, after all, the matter resolves itself into a question of the strength of the ivy. I'm going."
They watched the obstinate and foolhardy fellow commence his attempt, and more than once shivered as he appeared to be falling. Presently he had reached a point high overhead and was still mounting. Indeed, in less than three minutes he had actually gained the window for which he was making and was seen to be entering.
"What one chap does, another can," said Clive. "I'm going to follow."
"And I'll be after you in a winking. There's Bert waving to us. Up you go. Who'd have thought the thing could be so easy?"
But when he came himself to make the attempt Hugh found it none too light a task. True, there were plenty of ivy stems to grip at, and an abundance of niches into which to thrust the feet. But the mass of leaves clinging to their stems thrust one away from the wall. Sometimes, too, one of the stems proved elusive, and broke away from its fellows. But Clive at length reached the safety of the window, and Hugh after him.
"Done it!" ejaculated Bert enthusiastically. "Now for a look round."
"And the treasure," Hugh reminded him. "Those chaps who searched before may not have been able to get into the place. The doors were locked, perhaps."
"I say," interrupted Clive, "wonder where that well is?"