“What Englishmen against Englishmen! They couldn’t.”
“But they did in the Wars of the Roses.”
“Ah, that was when people knew no better, and there were different kings wanted to reign! Such things never could occur again.”
“I hope not.”
“There! this is where the entrance must be.”
The two lads had reached the edge of the lake now, and began once more to search along the most likely spots where the rocky banks were perpendicular and high, and covered with ivy and overhanging trees.
But it was labour in vain, and at last, as the afternoon grew late, they sat down on a piece of slaty rock in the hot sunshine, swinging their legs over the side, gazing out at the bright waters of the lake.
“I don’t care,” cried Fred, pettishly; “I’m tired of it. I don’t mind now whether there’s a way in or a way out. It’s of no use, and I’m hungry. I shall go home now.”
“No; stop and have supper with us.”
“Very well. I don’t mind; only let’s go.”