sword and softly tapped each in turn.

But not one gave forth a hollow sound. Everything was solid, even the
walls at the back.

"Let's try the other open one, sir," said Ben, and they continued their
investigations in this place, which was precisely similar to the first,
and yielded the same results.

Then the keys of the great bunch Ben carried were tried on one
fast-closed door of oak, studded with square nails much corroded by
rust, but it was not until the last key had been thrust in that with a
harsh creaking the bolt of the ponderous lock shot back; and then it
required the united efforts of both to get the door to turn upon the
rusty hinges.

Here they were met by precisely the same appearances, and the search was
made, and ended by sounding with the sword pommel.

"No, sir; there's nothing here."

"I'm afraid not," said Roy; "everything sounds solid."

"Ay, sir, and solid it is."

"But if you tap so hard, Master Pawson will hear you," whispered Roy, as
the old soldier tried the floor again.

"Maybe not, sir; but if he do, he do. Let's hope now he's fast asleep;
you see, he's three floors higher up."

"But knocking sounds travel a long distance, Ben, and I'd rather he did
not know."

"Me too, sir. Well, this is only three. Let's try the others."

"I hope you are not going to have so much work with the finding of the
key," said Roy; "it hinders us so."

"Plenty of time before morning, sir," replied Ben, coolly; and after
relocking the heavy low door, he tried the key he had just withdrawn
upon the next door, and, to the surprise of both, it yielded easily, and
was thrown open.

Again the same clean, swept-out place, with plenty of grey cobwebs; but
that was all.

Upon sounding the stones, however, at the back, they fancied that they
detected a suggestion of hollowness, still not enough to make Roy
determine to have the wall torn down.

This place was locked and the next tried, the only satisfactory part of
the business being that the key before used evidently opened all the
locks in the basement of this tower; and so it proved, as one after the
other the dungeons or cellars were tried with the same unsatisfactory
results, for none of the eight afforded the slightest trace of the clew
they sought.

At last, pretty well tired out and covered with cobwebs, they stood in
the crypt while Ben lit a fresh candle, the first having burned down
into the socket, with the wick swimming in molten f