“Only another stone, messmate,” cried Dan.
“Nay; smooth, hard bottom,” said Buck. “Look here;” and after lifting out several spadefuls of the loose stuff he scraped the tool backwards and forwards over what seemed to be a perfectly level surface.
“You are quite right, Denham,” said the doctor excitedly, “and you have proved my words. Now then, Dance; jump down with that shovel and help Denham clear out the loose stuff.”
This took some little time, but at last the two men stood up in the square hole, which was thoroughly cleared out, and exposed the level flooring of the old building beneath one of whose walls they had been at work.
“What?” cried the doctor, in answer to a question. “How far does it go? It is impossible to say without clearing out the whole extent of the place. What is the bottom, Denham—slabs of stone or bricks?”
“Neither, sir. As far as I can make out it’s a kind of cement.”
“Then that proves that the building can’t be as old as we thought,” said Sir James.
“Oh, no,” said the doctor. “Cement in some form or another is very ancient;” and he paused for a few minutes while the last baskets of rubbish which had been thrown out were carefully examined.
“Nothing here,” said the doctor. “Now, Denham, I want that iron bar that you use to make the holes for the tent pegs.”
“Hop pitcher? Here, Bob, mate, run to the waggon and fetch it.”