"What's this, I wonder?" exclaimed George, giving the iron box a kick. "Some old pirate's treasure, maybe. Well, if 'twas full of gold it's no good to us at present, nor likely to be unless we can find a way out of this vault. Set down the light a moment, Master Eden," he continued. "I'll hoist you up on my back, sir, and you can see if you can stir either of them stone slabs overhead."
Feeble as I was, I doubt whether I could have moved the stone if it had offered no other resistance than its own weight; as it was, for all the effect my pushing had there might have been ten thousand tons of earth resting on its upper surface. As Woodley once more set me on my feet I turned giddy, and sank down on the iron box to save myself from falling. The dimly-lit vault spun round and round; I leaned my head against the cold stone and closed my eyes. Whether I fainted or merely dozed off from sheer exhaustion I can't say, but after what seemed an age I was roused by Woodley shaking my shoulder and addressing me in loud and excited tones. His words had to be repeated several times before I grasped their meaning; then at last they forced themselves into my brain.
"Master Eden, I've heard a dog barking! There 'tis again! Liven up, sir; we can't be far from help."
For a moment I seemed to recover full possession of my senses; my brain was feverishly active as a sudden inspiration came to my mind—the weird song of the wind through the keyhole, the long uphill slope of the passage, the barking of the dog.
"George," I cried, "I know where we are! We're in the secret place at Coverthorne! We must be close to the haunted room, perhaps directly under it; and the wind was the ghost!" I broke out into a fit of wild hysterical laughter, and ended by bursting into tears.
"Steady, steady, sir," cried George. "What d'you mean? What are you talking about?"
With an effort recovering my self-possession, I told him in a few words what I meant, and how I believed we had unwittingly discovered the old house's secret chamber.
"But what can we do?" I exclaimed. "We may stay buried here for any length of time, and no one know where we are or how to get us out."
Woodley was certainly a man of quick resource. He stood thinking for a moment; then picking up the lamp, he carried it out into the tunnel, and returning closed the door. Standing in the pitch darkness, we saw for the first time a faint gray shadow as it were, but a few inches long, which filtered through between one granite slab and the end wall of the cell. Faint and indistinct it might be, but at the sight of it our hearts leaped within us: this was daylight at last!
"Hurrah!" shouted George. "Yonder's the way out? Now I'll soon have some one to open the door for us, or may I never ride behind four horses again!"