"Not out to nowhere, miss. That's a large cellar as we never use. I ain't been into it since the first day, when they put some of the packing-cases there."
"Give me the key," said Hester. "Something is going on there we ought to know about."
"Then pray send for the police, miss!" answered Sarah, trembling. "It ain't for you to go into such places—on no account!"
"What! not in our own house?"
"It's the police's business, miss!"
"Then the police are their brothers' keepers, and not you and me, Sarah?"
"It's the wicked as is in it, I fear, miss."
"It's those that weep anyhow, and they're our business, if it's only to weep with them. Quick! show me which is the key."
Sarah sought the key in the bunch, and noting the coolness with which her young mistress took it, gathered courage from hers to follow, a little way behind.
When Hester reached the door, she carefully examined it, that she might do what she had to do as quickly as possible. There were bolts and bars upon it, but not one of them was fastened; it was secured only by the bolt of the lock. She set the candle on the floor, and put in the key as quietly as she could. It turned without much difficulty, and the door fell partly open with a groan of the rusted hinge. She caught up her light, and went in.