There was a long silence, then—“Rex,” said Norah, in a very weak little voice, “did anyone know that you were down in the cellars to-day?”
Rex cleared his throat in miserable embarrassment.
“No, Norah. I am afraid no one saw me.”
“Will they miss the keys?”
“They are very old keys, Norah. Nobody uses them.”
A little frightened gasp sounded in his ear, but Norah said no more. Rex clenched his fist and banged it fiercely on his knee.
“Idiot! idiot that I was! What business had I to let you come. It’s all my fault. It was no place for a girl; but the opening looked right enough, and I thought—”
“I know. Besides, you asked me if I would like an adventure, and I said I would. I came of my own free will. Don’t be angry with yourself, Rex; it is as much my fault as yours.”
“You are a little brick, Norah,” said a husky voice, and Rex’s hand gripped hers with a quick, strong pressure. “I never thought a girl could be so plucky. I’ll not forget—” He broke off suddenly, and Norah’s voice was very unsteady as she asked the next question—
“If—if we shouted very loudly would anyone hear?”