“I thought something laid hold of my leg. Mind!”
Scarlett nearly dropped the lanthorn. “Oh, I say, Scar, that would be too horrible. Do be careful. I don’t want to be in the dark again.”
“It was your fault, you pretending to be frightened.”
“I didn’t pretend. I was frightened. It did seem as if something touched my leg. I say, how much farther do you think it is?”
“What! to the end? I don’t know. Come along.”
“Well, if anyone had told me that I should do such a thing as this, I wouldn’t have believed him,” grumbled Fred. “How cold the water feels!”
“You wouldn’t mind if it was one of the streams, and we were after trout.”
“No; because it would be all light and warm there, and we could see what we were doing. Don’t you think we might go back?”
“No. Let’s go to the end now. I’m sure this is the way down to the lake, and we shall find the entrance. Perhaps we shall find the end blocked up, and then when we open it all the water will rush out, and we shall have a dry passage after all.”
“Then you will not give it up?”