Chirk brought Mollie up alongside, and stared keenly at an unmistakable track, winding through the undergrowth towards the hill. They had reached the big gorge John had seen from the pass; it ran back into the hill, deeply undercutting it; and the rank grass and fading clumps of willow-herb had been trodden down on the rising ground which led into it.
John touched Beau with his heel, saying briskly: “We will tether the horses round the next spur. Come on!”
A few minutes later, as they dismounted, out of sight of the big gorge, Chirk drew his pistols out of their holsters, slipped one into the capacious pocket of his coat, and thrust the other into the top of his breeches. John, unfastening the lantern from his saddle, noticed this, and said instantly: “If you start a cannonade with those damned barking-irons, I’ll murder you! You’re too fond of pulling out a gun! I thought, moreover, that you were sure we should find nothing in the cavern?”
“I daresay we won’t,” replied Chirk, setting the second lantern on the ground, and throwing his greatcoat over the mare. “But, if it’s all the same to you, Soldier, now I’ve seen that track I’ll be easier in my mind if I have my pops handy. If that pair from the Manor was to visit the cavern while we’re there, maybe they’ll save our groats for us!”
He waited while John loosened Beau’s girths, and covered him with his cloak, and then led the way back to the gorge, steering wide of the bushes until he reached the path through them. He had not gone far along this before he stopped, drawing John’s attention to some confused but deep footprints in a patch of softer ground. His face had sharpened, and his quick, frowning eyes glanced about, at the beaten grass, and the bushes encroaching on the track. “Seems to me, Soldier, there’s been several coves here.”
“Several coves,” agreed John, “and they were carrying something heavy, from the look of these marks. What’s more, one or two of these brambles have been lopped back. See?”
Chirk nodded, but said nothing. They went on, the ground steadily rising as it approached the back of the gorge. The hill now towered above them, its rocky face seeming almost to overhang them; and the gorge narrowed rapidly. A tangle of dead gorse lay ahead, and when they drew nearer to it they saw that it had been arranged to hide a rude fence. As soon as the gorse had been pulled away, the fence was seen to cover an opening in the rock, perhaps six foot high, and almost as broad. Closer inspection revealed rusted iron staples driven into the rock on either side of the opening. To these the rude fence was secured with lengths of twine.
“Fresh,” Chirk said, a little grimly, pulling the knot apart. “If you ain’t had the sense to bring your own pistols, Soldier, you’d better have one of mine!”
“You can give it to me, if we’re followed,” replied John. “That there’s no one inside at least we know: you couldn’t tie the fence to the staples from inside that hole.” He dropped on his knee as he spoke, setting the lantern he carried down within the cave-mouth, and taking his tinderbox from his pocket.
Both lanterns alight, and burning fairly, Chirk said: “One of us ought to stay and keep watch.”