"Yes, yes. By the fireplace. And then?"
"Saw the panel move. So anxious about you, like a fool never stopped to think. Dashed in. Shouted to you. Then…' He stopped, frowning. "Yes, I heard something behind me. I think I turned round. I don't remember anything else. What happened to you? How did you get here? Who brought me here?"
She glanced fearfully over her shoulder at the door of their prison. It was shut, but a steel grille at the height of a man's head was let into it. A sort of shutter with round holes cut in it was drawn across the grille on the outside. She turned back to Peter, and slid her hand into his. "When you'd gone I knelt down and lit the fire, Then I started to get up, and you know how you put out your hand to steady yourself? Well, I did that, and caught on to the apple in the carving. It moved, and I saw the opening in the wall, just as you did. I called you, but you'd gone. I never meant to go in, but there didn't seem to be anything there, and I did just step inside, holding on to the panel all the time. Peter, it was a staircase! Did you realise that?"
"Yes, I remember thinking in a flash how that was what Duval must have meant when he said the Monk went up and down the stairs though we didn't see. Go on: what happened next?"
She shuddered. "It was so awful… my bangle - you know the one - came undone, and fell on to the second step. I didn't stop to think: I never dreamed - anyone was there. I let go the panel and just stepped down one stair to pick it up." Her fingers clung suddenly to his hand. "Peter, I saw the light going, and I turned round, and the panel was closing! Peter! I nearly went mad! I couldn't stop it, and that's when I screamed. I tried to tear it open; it was pitch dark, and I couldn't see any catch, or feel anything. I shrieked for you again and again. Then - then I heard something moving." She was shaking like a leaf. He put his arm round her, clumsily patting her shoulder. "A sort of padding footstep, coming nearer and nearer. And I couldn't see, couldn't move that awful panel. Then - I felt something creep over my mouth. It felt horrible, horrible! Then I knew it was a hand in a glove. It gripped my face so that I could hardly breathe, and an arm grasped me round above the elbows. I couldn't move, I heard you call out to me from the library, and then - then, there was a fiendish sort of chuckle, quite soft, but so utterly wicked, and cruel, that it just finished me, and I fainted. When I came to I was in this place, quite alone. I didn't know how I got here, or who that hand belonged to - or - or how long I'd been here till the door opened, and I saw the Monk standing there. He didn't speak; he looked at me for a moment through those slits in his cowl, then he turned and bent down and started to drag something in. It was you, Peter, and oh, I thought you were dead, I thought you were dead! He just let you fall on the floor, and went out. I hadn't any water or anything to bring you to. I undid your collar, and when you didn't move, I was so desperate I shrieked for someone to come and at least let me have some water. But no one did and no one answered. Only this awful roaring noise went on."
He lifted his head. "Then there is a noise? It's not just in my head?"
"No, it's never stopped all the time I've been here."
He sat for a few minutes trying to collect his thoughts. "Poor kid!" he said. "Ghastly for you. And a fat lot of good I've been to you!"
She laid her cheek against his arm. "You're here, and that's all I care about. You don't know what it was like to be alone. At least we're together now."
"If only my head didn't ache so much I might be able to think," he said. He looked round, and blinked. "Where the hell are we?" he said. "Electric light?"