“Wouldn’t it be safer to fasten the front door too?” said Fred in a whisper.
“Yes, and be quick,” replied his companion in the same low, excited manner.
Fred ran down, closed the great oaken door, ran a ponderous bolt into its receptacle, and again joined his companion.
“Now then,” whispered Scarlett, “what shall we do?”
As he spoke he knelt down and thrust the candle in as far as he could reach, disclosing the fact that this was no rough back to the staircase, but a smooth, carefully finished piece of work.
“Shall we try if we can creep in?” suggested Fred.
“I hardly like to; but if you will, I will.”
“I will,” replied Fred, laconically.
“But how are we to get in? It isn’t deep enough to crawl.”
“Tell you what,” cried Fred, “I think the way is to lie down in it and then roll along. There’s plenty of room that way.”