“Well, let’s see.”
Scarlett started once more with the lanthorn along the tunnel in the other direction, apparently toward the house, while, with a maliciously merry laugh on his face, Fred hung back, and half hid himself among the fallen wood and stones.
Scarlett went on quite a couple of dozen yards, talking the while, every word he said coming back as in a loud whisper distinctly to the mouth of the hole.
“Don’t seem to get any deeper, Fred. I’m glad we came, because we shall find it out this time.”
Fred chuckled and watched, and, to his surprise, he saw his companion and the light gradually disappear, leaving the tunnel in obscurity.
“Why, I shall have to go in the dark,” cried Fred to himself. “Oh!” And, startled more than he had startled his companion, he hurried after him, so eager to overtake the light that he nearly went headlong in the water, for his body went quicker than his legs.
“Hi! stop a minute, Scar!” he cried; and he noted, as he hurried on, that the passage made a great curve, though it was so gradual that he could not tell its extent.
“Why, I thought you were close behind me,” said Scarlett, as he overtook him. “Lean a little forward, and you’ll find it easier to go along through the water. It’s getting just a little deeper now.”
“Then this must be the way to the lake, after all.”
They persevered, going steadily on for some time, and, with the water gradually creeping up and up till it was mid-thigh, and then higher and higher till it was almost to their hips, and then they stopped.