“Well, but seriously,” I resumed. “I hope you are not in a wild humour, Moore, meaning to do anything reckless?”
“Of course not,” he said reassuringly. “To-day I mean to do nothing whatever but spy the ground. But do let us walk faster. How far have we to go?”
“Not above half a mile or so to where the wall begins,” I replied. “And then, oh! it can’t be above a few hundred yards to the place where the door is, only if we are to find it we must walk slowly when we get near there.”
The road looked almost more lonely to-day than when I had been there before. There was not the slightest sign of life or movement as far as we could see beyond us.
“I could believe that no one had passed this way for weeks,” I said to Moore. “Did you ever see such a lonely place?”
“That is probably why they have made the door on this side,” he replied. “I dare say they come out at night, and walk up and down like ghosts!”
“I’m sure they don’t,” I answered, “and they didn’t make the door. It’s as old as the wall itself, as you can see by the ivy. Now don’t talk any more; I want to give all my attention to looking for it.”
And in a minute or two I exclaimed triumphantly; “Here it is, and—yes—still unlocked!”
It must have called for some self-restraint on Moore’s part not to shout “hurrah!” but we were well on our guard. We pushed the door open and entered cautiously, drawing it to behind us. We were well sheltered, as I have said, by the bushes skirting the wall. I crept along a few yards in the same direction as I had done the last time, my brother closely following me. Then we stopped, and I whispered to him that I thought it would be safe to peep out a little. He did so, keeping still well in the shade of the heavy clumps of evergreens farther inside the grounds. Then, after reconnoitring, he beckoned to me to come on.
“There isn’t a creature about,” he said, “and we can’t be seen from the windows at this side. You needn’t be so dreadfully frightened, Reggie.”