“All right, Mas’ Don. My head aches as if it was a tub with the cooper at work hammering of it.”
Don went slowly along the side of the great cellar, guiding himself in the intense darkness by running: his hands over the damp bricks; but there was nothing but bare wall till he had passed down two sides, and was half-way along the third, when he uttered a hasty ejaculation.
“It’s all right, Jem. Here is a way into another cellar.”
“Mind how you go, sir. Steady.”
“Yes, but make haste.”
“There’s a door,” whispered Don. “Loose my hand.”
He hastily felt all over the door, but it was perfectly blank, not so much as a keyhole to be found, and though he pressed and strained at it, he could make no impression.
“It’s no use, Jem. Let’s try the other door.”
“I don’t believe there are no other door,” said Jem. “That’s the way out.”
“No, no; the way out is on the other side.”