Sure enough, the lapping sound was plainly audible at this point.
Further ahead in the dim recesses of the cellar the sound was of dripping, a steady patter like rain.
"Maybe they have pulled a sluice between here and the river," suggested Henri.
"The fiends," muttered Schneider.
"Gee!" exclaimed Billy, starting back from a forward step or two, "the floor is filling!"
Stealing along, inch by inch, the water spread throughout the cellar.
The prisoners retreated to the foot of the ladder and sought perches on the rungs. In case of full flood they could stave off drowning for a time by climbing higher. It was the only way.
"It's a pretty tight place we're in, old man, but not for the first time, and, mind you, we have always pulled out somehow."
Billy was ever ready to pass a cheering word to his chum when cheering words were most needed.
Schneider's nerve was again in the ascendant, he having sufficiently abused his lack of horse sense in being so easily led into such a trap.