h such small expectation of
success. Where did the passage lead? That was naturally the first
question they asked each other.

"It looks very dark," said Cicely, peering rather nervously into the
opening.

"I wish we had a candle," said Lindsay. "There isn't even an end left
inside the lantern, and we've no matches either."

"Shall I go downstairs and fetch some?" suggested Cicely.

"No, no! You might meet 'The Griffin' on the way. We'd better explore
now, as quickly as we can, while the coast is clear."

It needed a little screwing up of courage to plunge into the dim
obscurity before them. Lindsay went first, with Cicely clinging
particularly closely on to her arm behind. The passage seemed to lead
along the inside of the wall for about two yards, then took a sharp
turn, and ended at the foot of a kind of ladder stairway.

One gleam of light fell from above, as if through some small chink in
the roof, just sufficient to allow them to distinguish their
surroundings and enable them to scramble up the rough steps. At the top
they found themselves in a huge garret, how big they could not tell, for
the corners were completely lost in black nothingness. The floor was
thick with dust (such old dust!), and was so worm-eaten and rotten that
it felt quite soft and crumbling under their feet.

They were close beneath the tiles, to judge from the rafters overhead.
The air was hot and stifling, and had that stale, mouldy smell
noticeable in places long shut up. They began to walk cautiously along,
peering on all sides as their eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness.

"It's just the place for them to have put the treasure," said Cicely.

"If we only had a light!" sighed Lindsay. "I want to go nearer the wall,
and see if I can find any heaps of money or silver tankards."

She groped her way a little more boldly across the room, and, putting
out her foot, began to feel about.

"Do be careful!" begged Cicely.

It was a most necessary warning. The ancient, rotten boards could not
stand the strain of Lindsay's weight, and down went her leg, making a
great hole in the floor. Luckily she was not seriously hurt, only
scratched and considerably frightened. With Cicely's help she managed to
extricate herself, and withdrew to the safer middle of the garret.

"The old house must be almost ready to tumble down," she declared.

"Monica said parts of the Manor were very much out of repair," replied
Cicely. "Besides, if this is