“If you don’t come directly, I will play you a trick. I wasn’t going to, but if you flinch, I’ll shove you in one of the old dungeons, and see how you like that.”
“But—”
“Well, you are a coward! I didn’t think Cockneys were such girls.”
“I’m not a coward, and I’m coming,” said Max quickly; “but I’m not used to going up places like this.”
“Oh, I am sorry!” cried Kenneth mockingly. “If I had known you were coming, we’d have had the man from Glasgow to lay on a few barrels of gas, and had a Brussels carpet laid down.”
“Now, you are mocking at me,” said Max quietly. “I could not help feeling nervous. Go on, please. I’ll come.”
“He is a rum chap,” said Kenneth, laughing to himself, as he disappeared in the darkness.
“Do the steps go up straight?” said Max from below.
“No; round and round like a corkscrew. It won’t be so dark higher up. There used to be a loophole here, but the stones fell together.”
Max drew a deep breath, and began stumbling up the spiral stairs, which had mouldered away till some of them sloped, while others were deep hollows; but he toiled on, with a half giddy, shrinking sensation increasing as he rose.