“What was it you said about the cellars, miss?” asked the other constable, as the lady paused.
Deborah turned desperately towards the ladder.
“This way down,” said she briefly, as she led the way herself.
It was quite dark, and the constables were unprovided with any light except matches, which they struck from time to time as they blundered down. It occurred to her that if Rees were unharmed and had failed to take warning by the noise of the policemen’s forcible entrance, she might find a chance of aiding his escape. So she hurried down as fast as she could, and stood with her back to the door of the lower cellar, so as to hide the fire-light which showed through the hole made by the old lock.
“Search this place first, please,” said she.
“I’ll light my lantern,” said one of the men.
The other struck a match, and examined the den as well as he could by its feeble light.
“What’s that in the corner?” said the first man.
Deborah was not paying much heed to their discoveries. She was watching for an opportunity, when their backs were turned, of slipping down into the adjoining cellar to find out what had become of Rees. But an exclamation from both men at once, as they crossed with their heavy tread to the corner indicated, riveted her attention.
“Look here, miss,” called one of them.