Don't stand mooning about!"
They started once more to try and move one of the stone blocks that made up the wall. "The things the perlice get up to!" Mr. Fripp remarked. "Give me an honest job of burglary, that's what I say! Well, it ain't 'ere, sir. If we've got many more of these rooms to go over you'll have to send me to one of them sanatoriums where you lay out on a nice balcony the whole blooming day."
But only one other room led out of the one they were in, and it was comparatively small. They started to test its walls, but before Peter had got more than half-way along his side of the room Michael said: "Got it!"
He set his shoulder to the block, and it swung easily and silently on its hidden pivot.
"Took the trouble to oil this one," commented Mr. Fripp. "Now mind what you're about, sir. Let me 'ave a look!"
"It's all right," Michael said, drawing his head and shoulders back into the room. "Only be careful how you step, Margaret. We're right on the staircase. Can you get through if I go first, and give you a hand?"
"Good Lord, yes!" she said. As soon as he had climbed through the gap, she scrambled after him, and found herself standing on the narrow stone stairway. They seemed to be somewhere in the middle of it, for the stairs went down as well as up.
The other two squeezed through the opening, and Michael pressed the block back into position. The light of his torch showed nothing to distinguish this block from any of the others.
"We shall have to count the stairs," Michael said. "I propose to explore downstairs after I've deposited you two at the Priory. Mind how you step, Margaret: the stairs are very steep and narrow."
They climbed in silence, each of them counting to themselves as they went. Margaret's legs were aching badly by the time they came to a halt; and she was thankful to get even a short rest.