“Now, then, what are we going to find?” cried Scarlett, as he thrust back the board, and then recoiled a little and looked at his companion.
Fred looked at him, and both lads felt that their hearts were beating fast.
“Not scared, are you, Fred!”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then you may have first try if you like. What do you say?”
“Nothing,” replied Fred. “I feel as if I should like to, but all the same I don’t like. Let’s try with a stick. There may be something nasty there; perhaps rats.”
“They wouldn’t have stopped; but you’re right. Go down and fetch a stick.”
“You will not try till I come back?” said Fred, doubtingly.
“No, I shall not try. Make haste.”
Fred was not long running down to one corner of the hall, and obtaining a stout ashen cudgel, which he handed to his companion, who, after a moment’s hesitation, thrust in the staff, and found that the opening was about half as deep again as the height of the step; but though he tapped the bottom, which seemed to be firm, and tried from side to side, there was nothing solid within, nothing but a fine, impalpable dust, which made its presence known, for both lads began to sneeze.