ot even a whisper. Suppose you were frightened, what would you do,
Estelle? Don't you think you had better go to the schoolroom, and wait
for us? Marjorie can go with you if you like, but, as she says, two are
better than one.'

Tears came into Estelle's eyes, but she said, with a good deal of
resolution in her gentle voice, 'If you wish, I will go to Aunt Betty.
Georgie is with her. I don't want to be in your way. But though I'm not
as brave as Marjorie, I can keep quiet, and I--I think you could trust
me not to scream or make a noise. If I feel inclined to, I will creep
away.'

'All right,' replied Alan. He was fond of his little cousin, and could
not bear to see her distressed. 'Come along, then; only remember this,
there must be no talking, no moving about, and you must do what I tell
you directly without any questions. Will you both promise?'

This little matter settled, the three children set off on their way
clown the narrow spiral staircase, at the bottom of which Alan, who led
the way, stopped in order to assist the girls over some rotten boards.
The whole passage required careful walking, to avoid dangerous holes,
and thin, dry-rotting boards.

The lower they went the darker it grew, and the more cautiously they had
to tread, till at last they came to such a gloomy region that seeing
their footsteps became impossible. Yet they dared not light a match.
They must almost have reached the cellars when Alan felt he had come
against a door, and whispered to the others to stop. Feeling about with
his fingers he encountered a latch, and in another moment the light was
shining in on them through a slit-like groove in the thick walls. The
stairs still went down, down, much to their disappointment, but no
thought of giving up occurred to any of them. They followed each other
noiselessly, Estelle the last of the three, when suddenly, just as they
had reached a sort of circular stone hall, they heard the grating sound
of a door being forced open on rusty hinges. In an instant Alan had
drawn the girls back into the shadow of the winding stairs, where they
could all remain without betraying their presence. Estelle, being the
farthest back, could see nothing, for which she was duly thankful; but
Marjorie and Alan sat as still as mice, their eyes on the opening door.

Two men were seen to enter, and, after closing the door, they proceeded
to light a lantern. They evidently felt quite safe here, for they did
not even lower