Trevanion moved to the ancient doorway and pulled aside the screen of ivy. But he let it fall quickly and stepped back.
"Look here, Doubledick," he said in a whisper.
Doubledick went to his side, and peered out through the foliage. Two figures were approaching the spot, not by the track from the road, but across the higher ground. Each carried a fowling-piece.
"Come out shooting, like me," whispered Trevanion.
"They didn' see 'ee?" said Doubledick anxiously.
"Not they. If they had seen me they wouldn't have followed. The last person young Dick would wish to meet would be his cousin."
Themselves concealed behind the ivy, the two men could watch the new-comers without the risk of being seen. They expected the boys to pass by, as nine villagers out of ten would have done, and the expression on their faces changed when Dick and Sam came directly towards the ruins, and, what was still more surprising, straight towards the well. Anger was written on Trevanion's countenance, and alarm on Doubledick's. The boys stood for a moment at the brink of the well. Then Dick, telling Sam to follow him immediately, kindled the candle in his hatband, lowered himself over the edge, and began to descend.
A muffled curse broke from Doubledick's lips. He reached for Trevanion's gun, but Trevanion, now smiling, withdrew it, and signed to the inn-keeper to be silent. They remained where they stood for a minute or two after Sam had disappeared, then went forward to the well and peered down into the depths. The shaft was in darkness. It was clear that the boys had entered the adit.
There was no one to hear the short dialogue that ensued between the two men standing close together at the head of the well. Apparently it was of agreeable tenor, for both smiled, though hardly with amusement. Doubledick took from his pocket a strip of something soft and black, removed his hat, and tied to his face a mask of crape. Then, with no light to guide his footsteps, he made his way downward into the shaft as the boys had done. When he had entirely disappeared, Trevanion shouldered his gun, and sauntered towards the road. Crossing this, he tramped over the moor towards Nancarrow's farm. Rather more than an hour later he was overtaken on the Truro road by Mr. Carlyon, who was riding his cob towards the village.
