"Oh, very well, sir, very well," replied the housekeeper. "It is very easily found. Be so good as to follow me."
Passing through a door to the left of the loop-holes, she led him through a passage, curiously constructed in the wall between the upper and lower row of windows. As soon as it had passed beneath what Smeaton conceived to be the windows of Emmeline's room, came a very narrow flight of stairs, and then another passage. Again came a second descent, steep but broader than the first, which led to what seemed to have been originally a cellar, arched over in brickwork and of no great extent. Beyond it was a long passage, evidently underground, and gently sloping downward till the whole was closed with a stone door in which was a key-hole.
"The key always lies there, sir," said Mrs. Culpepper, pointing to a little niche; "but I must tell you that, when you open the door, there is, just before you, the well, which you must step over to get out, or you might drown yourself. It is an old well with an arch over it, the water of which is thought good for sore eyes; so that the people come here often on a morning to get it; and, when you stand on this side of the door, you may hear all they say as they gossip round the well. The right hand path leads away through the wood at the back of the village to the bay; the left takes round again to the terrace in front of the house; but that is well nigh a quarter of a mile off, and no horses can come round here; for the hill is too steep."
Smeaton did not promise himself any great entertainment from overhearing the gossiping of the fishermen's wives and daughters, but quietly followed his guide back again to the room above. She there left her light with him, passed through the aperture, closed the door, and he could hear her roll back the bed, and the catch click upon the spring.
CHAPTER XIII.
There are moments in the life of every one, when some sudden and unexpected change hurries us rapidly through a bustling and exciting scene, where we are called upon to decide and act suddenly upon unforeseen conditions, and then leaves us to pause and reflect in solitude and silence upon what we have just done. The effect is strange, as all men arrived at mature life must have felt, when, left to our own thoughts, we scan the busy moments just passed, doubtful whether impulse or reason have guided us, and still more doubtful whether impulse or reason have guided us aright. Often the answer is, "Yes," and often, "No;" and, when it is negative, man, with his great skill in covering his own faults and follies from his eyes, satisfies himself by shrugging up his shoulders, and saying--"I acted for the best--" forgetting too often how much of the fault he would thus palliate is attributable to the evil habit of not making reason his ever-present and ready guide. Exercise her daily, use her upon all occasions, and she will act at the first call. Neglect her for an hour, she falls asleep, and requires time to be roused. All very trite; but do any of us remember this as much as we ought?
When Smeaton stood alone, shut up in the priest's chamber, he began to ask himself if he had done wisely in consenting to be hidden in that retreat, and he could not but acknowledge that love for Emmeline, and the thought of obtaining means of access to her under some remote and uncertain contingences, had shared more in fixing his determination than the consideration either of his own safety or of his own name and character. He saw that he had not acted in accordance with reason; but he too--for he was by no means perfect--treated the error lightly, saying to himself--
"Well, it is done, and cannot be undone. Let us make the best of it. There is always a way out of this secret chamber, that is one comfort; but I had better examine it more closely. I saw the key lying there, it is true, but I did not satisfy myself that it would turn in the lock, and it seemed somewhat rusty."
Thus musing, he took the light from the table, and walked quickly through the passage along which the old woman had led him.
"She was foolish," he thought, "to hesitate about showing me the way. No one could miss it."