I gained the bottom of the well, and found myself standing in the entrance to an arched passage. Kennedy was directing the light of the lamp down upon the floor.
"You see, the door was guarded" said Nayland Smith.
"What!"
"Puff adder!" he snapped, and indicated a small snake whose head was crushed beneath his heel.
Sir Lionel now joined us; and, a silent quartette, we stood staring from the dead reptile into the damp and evil-smelling tunnel. A distant muttering and rumbling rolled, echoing awesomely along it.
"For Heaven's sake what was that, sir?" whispered Kennedy.
"It was the thunder," answered Nayland Smith. "The storm is breaking over the hills. Steady with the lamp, my man."
We had proceeded for some three hundred yards, and, according to my calculation, were clear of the orchard of Graywater Park and close to the fringe of trees beyond; I was taking note of the curious old brickwork of the passage, when—
"Look out, sir!" cried Kennedy—and the light began dancing madly.
"Just under your feet! Now it's up the wall!—mind your hand, Dr.
Petrie!"
The lamp was turned, and, since it shone fully into my face, temporarily blinded me.