“I’ll go,” cried Glyn excitedly. “I could take a lantern with me so as to make sure there was nothing left.”
“Well, yes, sir, it would be wise to take a candle,” said Wrench.—“Wouldn’t it, gardener?”
“Nay, my lad; you ought to send the light down first. Then, if it didn’t go out, him as went down wouldn’t go out.”
“What do you mean?” said Glyn.
“Foul air, sir. Like enough there’s some down at the bottom of that well.”
“Oh, there couldn’t be any to hurt,” cried Glyn eagerly. “I’ll go, Wrench. Get a candle.”
“Not I, sir,” said the man sturdily. “If any one was to go down that well it would be me; but there ain’t no need for it. I could swear there’s nothing down there, and I shan’t go.”
“Nobody wants you to go,” cried Glyn. “I’ll go myself.”
“That you don’t, sir, if I know it,” said Wrench sturdily. “Pst! Here’s the Doctor.”
For at that moment the entrance was darkened and the Doctor came in, picking his way very carefully lest he should step into one of the puddles of the muddy floor.