“Perhaps the chest he was sitting on—” began Rees.
“Chest!” echoed Goodhare impetuously; “there was a chest, you say! Surely you don’t mean to let the night pass without ascertaining what is in it?”
“I do, though,” said Rees frankly. “The journey down there and back, with the dangers of poisonous air on the one hand, and no air at all on the other, bruising one’s limbs, and tearing one’s flesh, is not to be undertaken every half hour.”
Goodhare was white and very quiet, but they could see fiery anger and impatience in his eyes.
“Those who cannot face danger are not worthy of a great reward,” he said sententiously.
“Face it yourself, then,” answered young Pennant, and he brought the tube and the rope over to Goodhare. “We’ll arrange all this for you, and as there are two of us, we shall be able to help you better than Sep could me.”
Amos saw that the young man, fresh from his triumphant adventure, must be humored.
“Well, lads, you must forgive the impatience of an old man who has only a few years left in which to enjoy life,” he said benignantly. “And now I think you both deserve a little merry-making for your pluck, so you must come home with me and share my humble supper.”
He helped them actively in coiling up both rope and tube. The lantern Rees took home for examination, as the light it had given was by no means satisfactory. Then, for fear of possible watchers at the lodge, Goodhare and Sep were let down in the usual manner, while Rees walked out by the wicket-gate. Ten minutes later they were all at the librarian’s lodging.
The younger men had expected nothing but the most frugal fare, and they were too much excited to have cared what was put before them. To their surprise, however, Goodhare had provided a game-pie, and on turning the key of a small corner cupboard which one would have supposed devoted to books, he revealed a small cellar of different wines of the choicest brands.