Also, for all that Mr. Ablethorpe said, I was in mortal fear of coming across poor Harry's leg, or of Mad Jeremy arriving and "settling" Mr. Ablethorpe, without my knowing anything about it. And when I came out—I should find myself face to face with the oily curls, the sneering lip, and—specially, with the knife I had seen gleaming in his teeth when he swam the Moat to make an end of Elsie and me.
I wasn't frightened, of course. Only I just thought what a fool I was to be there. I am not the first, nor will I be the last to think the same thing—when, like me, they are doing something dreadful noble and heroic.
There were curious side passages, as I say, on each side of the tunnel along which I was crawling—oh, so slowly. Some of these were narrow and smooth, where a brick had fallen out, and smelled "rat" yards off. I did not meddle with these. But there were bigger offshoots, too, properly bricked round and as tight as ninepence—no rats there.
Well, it was in one of these that I came on my first treasure-trove. I felt a lot of things all tied together in a rough bag or cloth—heavy, too, and of course all clammy with moisture or mould or something like that. No wonder—I felt all green-mouldy myself, after only a minute or two.
I tugged at the rope, and, almost before I knew it, I was out again in the dancing speckle of the sunshine sifted through the leaves. Blinded by the sudden glare which sent blobs of colour dancing across my eyeballs, as if I had looked at the sun, I did not realize for a moment that I had brought anything with me.
"Let go!" I heard Mr. Ablethorpe say, and I was quite unconscious what I was holding on to. Yet what I had found was little enough to the eye—a piece of rough sacking, roughly sewn about a quantity of metallic objects which jingled as Mr. Ablethorpe cut the outer covering open with his big "gully" knife.
"Money!" the thought came natural to a boy; "have I disinterred a treasure?"
And for the moment I was all ready to go back again to look for more.
But the blade went on cutting, and presently the contents tinkled out upon the bank—about a dozen and a half of copper rings, rather thick, and each made with a hook at the bottom. I could not imagine what they were for.
But Mr. Ablethorpe bounded upon them, examining each one before putting it in his pocket. Lastly he looked at the piece of canvas in which they had been wrapped, long and carefully.