“That’s false, you do know. But come, lads, we’ll sarch, and here’s a cellar to begin with.”
He laid hold of the iron ring of the trap-door, opened it, and seizing a light descended, followed by Bevan, Crossby, Flinders, and one or two others. Tossing the lumber about he finally rolled aside the barrels ranged beside the wall, until the entrance to the subterranean way was discovered.
“Ho! ho!” he cried, lowering the light and gazing into it. “Here’s something, anyhow.”
After peering into the dark hole for some time he felt with his hand as far as his arm could reach.
“Mind he don’t bite!” suggested Paddy Flinders, in a tone that drew a laugh from the by-standers.
“Hand me that stick, Paddy,” said Gashford, “and keep your jokes to a more convenient season.”
“Ah! then ’tis always a convanient season wid me, sor,” replied Paddy, with a wink at his companions as he handed the stick.
“Does this hole go far in?” he asked, after a fruitless poking about with the stick.
“Ay, a long way. More’n a hundred yards,” returned Bevan.
“Well, I’ll have a look at it.”