Keenly alive though I had been to my father's precarious state, these last words gave me a shock. But it was no time for me to display weakness. I sought to rally him, but he persisted.
"As 'tis unwise to lock up the secret solely within your own breast," he resumed, with a splendid fortitude, "for any day might see you stricken down, I would charge you to share the knowledge of the hiding-place with those worthy gentlemen Sir Ralph Granville and Colonel Firestone, who, I feel sure, will not betray their trust. Therefore I leave the matter entirely in your hands, knowing that you will prove worthy of my confidence."
So saying, he handed me a packet containing the legal documents, which I took away to my own room till I could conveniently dispose of them.
On my return with Ralph and Colonel Firestone, my father asked me to assist him to rise, and, leaning heavily on my shoulder—which was by now perfectly healed—he led the way towards the underground cellars, where the provisions of an imperishable nature had been stored, my comrades following closely.
Through a narrow grated window the pale light that entered was barely enough to see with, but, with a confidence only gained by familiarity, my father limped towards the furthermost wall. Here four massive pillars, supporting the groined arches of the roof, were walled in by stonework of a more recent date.
"Now follow carefully what I am about to do," said he, and touched a concealed spring. Part of one of the pillars swung round, disclosing a yawning cavity; yet so closely did the moving stonework fit the rest of the column that the most practised eye would fail to detect the mechanism, especially in the dim light.
Taking a lantern from a bench, my father directed me to close the sliding door and set light to the candle.
This I did, and reopening the secret aperture, my father painfully crawled through, and we followed. There was a dry, musty smell about the vault, and, as our eyes grew accustomed to the feeble light, we saw barrels and barrels ranged along the floor.
"Hold well the lantern," said my father, giving it into my hands. "A slip and we are all undone, for every cask contains powder."
"Then there is no chance of our running short of ammunition," remarked Firestone.