“They cannot be very big rooms,” said Inez in a hushed, awed voice, as she glanced at the wall.
“No; they must be narrow. But they are quite long and high—some of them—and there are stairs leading from one floor to another, just like the big stairs in the hall.”
Inez stared at her.
“How you know that?” she inquired.
“Why, I’ve seen the rooms,” was the reply. “Let me think a moment.”
During the pause she scrutinized the Mexican girl closely, wondering if it would be advisable to take her into her confidence. Then she continued, speaking slowly:
“I’m almost sure it was in this very room that one of the secret entrances was built. It was not a nursery when I was here before, you know; it was Señor Cristoval’s office, where he kept his books and his money-boxes.”
She rose, as she spoke, and looked uncertainly up and down the wall. Then, with a nod of satisfaction, she quickly walked to the east corner and counted four blocks of adobe, starting from the floor. The fourth line of blocks she followed to the third one, and placed her hand upon it.
“I think I am right, so far,” she said. “This is the door to the secret rooms, but the key that unlocks it is somewhere in the floor. Turn back the rug, please, Inez.”
The girl obeyed, her brown fingers trembling with excitement. The floor was of adobe blocks similar to those which formed the wall, but smaller in size. Mildred regarded them reflectively and then placed her foot on the edge of the second block directly in a line with the place where her hand rested. The pressure of her foot made the block tip slightly, and observing this she pressed hard with her hand against the inner edge of the upper block.