p, and then when we open it all the water will rush out, and we
shall have a dry passage after all."

"Then you will not give it up?"

"No," said Scarlett, doggedly. "It's our place, and I want to be able
to tell father all about it."

"No, no; don't do that," cried Fred, in dismay.

"I don't mean yet. I mean when we've done with it."

"I've done with it now," muttered Fred. "I don't see any fun in going
sop, sop, squeeze, squatter, through all this cold, dark water. Eh!
what's that--the end of it?"

"I think so," said Scarlett, holding the lanthorn up as high as he
could. "Here are some steps and a door."

"Of course; then that must be the door that opens on the lake."

"No, it can't be, for the steps are dry, and--I say, Fred!"

"What is it?"

"Look here," cried Scarlett. "This is strange. Here's a chamber or
cellar."

"Just like the other we found."

"Like it," cried Scarlett; "why, it is it!"

"What nonsense! That one was toward the house. This one is toward the
lake."

"Nonsense or no, there's the old armour in the corner."

The two lads stood with the lanthorn held up, staring at the heap, and
then at the rusty hinged door, and lastly at one another.

"Do you believe in enchantment, Fred?" said Scarlett, at last.

"No, not a bit. Enchantment, and witches, and goblins, and all those
sort of things, are nothing but stuff, father says."

"But isn't it curious that we should have found ourselves here? It is
the same, isn't it?"

"I think so. Yes, that's the way into the house," said Fred, staring
along the dark passage. "But I don't care whether it is or whether it
isn't. My legs are so wet that I mean to get out as soon as I can."

Scarlett held the lanthorn up again, and had one more good look round.
Then, without a word, he turned, descended the steps into the water, and
began to wade back.

"Oh, I say, it is wet!" grumbled Fred, as he followed the lanthorn,
watching their grotesque shadows on the wall, the flashing of the light
on the water, and the glimmering on the damp walls.

Neither of the lads spoke now as they waded on, for each was trying to
puzzle out the problem of how it was that they should have journeyed
backward; but no light came.

"I shall make it out," said Fred, "as soon as we get in the sunshine
again. Go on a bit faster, Scar."

But there was no temptation to go faster, and the slow wading was
continued, till a glimmering of light cheered them; and