“We must be right down ever so much below the house,” he said at last. “Shall we go any farther?”
“Oh yes, I’d go on,” replied Fred, quietly; and once more the two lads gazed in each other’s eyes as if looking for signs of fear.
“Come along then,” cried Scarlett, manfully; and he went down and down more steps to stand at last on level stones, a narrow passage stretching out before him, while the stone walls and ceiling gleamed as if slightly damp.
“Hold the light up a little higher, Scar,” whispered Fred.
Scarlett raised his left hand to the full length of his arm; there was a soft dab, and Fred uttered a subdued “Oh!” as his companion’s right hand grasped his with spasmodic violence.
For Scarlett had pressed the candle up against the stone ceding, and the arched surface thoroughly performed the duty of extinguisher, leaving them in total darkness.
Half a minute must have passed, during which they were stunned by the horror of their position, before Scarlett exclaimed—
“Oh, Fred, what shall we do?”
There was no answer, Fred holding the other’s hand tightly, and it was not until the question was repeated that he uttered a low gasping sigh.
“We can find our way back,” he whispered, in an awe-stricken voice. “There’s nothing to mind, for we can’t go wrong.”