their voices. A bag of tools was laid on the floor, and
now came the moment of danger. Uncertain which of the doors round the
stone hall was the one they wanted, they began a tour of inspection,
turning the brilliant light of the lantern on each as they came to it.
Alan saw that they must pass the foot of the staircase, and that they
would certainly bring the lantern to bear on it. This would reveal
Marjorie and himself sitting there. With a touch, he drew Marjorie's
attention to the danger, and, in an instant, Estelle was made aware of
the necessity of going higher up in order that the others might slip out
of sight. It was an anxious moment, however, for what if the men took it
into their heads to mount the stairs?

Alan listened with strained ears, but, as far as he could make out, they
were intent on finding some mark which indicated the door they were in
search of. He was comforting himself with this when he saw, by the
sudden light on the wall, that the lantern was turned on the stairs.

'Sure it _is_ down here?' said a gruff voice in a surly tone, 'It's no
use our going on a wild-goose chase. We are below ground here, and it's
not unlikely the door is above-stairs, more on a level with the house.'

'We have not been round them all down here yet,' came the reply in the
voice of Thomas. 'I don't know the door any better than you, but we can
look till we find it.'

'And if it isn't down here, why we will just go up. I suppose there's no
danger of folks coming down the stairs and spying on us?'

'Bless you, it isn't every one has the courage to come here at all. It
is haunted, they say; but I don't believe in that sort of ghosts. Come
along, and let's finish the hall first.'

With that they moved away, and the stairs were again in deep shadow.
Alan indicated to Marjorie that she was to stay where she was. He
himself resumed his old seat lower down, whence he could view all that
took place.

Slowly and cautiously the men continued their investigations, but
apparently with no success. The doors were all precisely alike, all of
solid oak, and heavily studded with great nails. The locks looked as if
they would take hours--perhaps days--to pick, and to attempt to open
them in any other way appeared to be hopeless. After some angry
discussion, it was at length determined to mount the stairs and try to
find the door they wanted. Alan was on his feet at once, ready to dart
out of sight as soon as needful, when sudden