ut you're found out too," cried Scarlett.

"Well, I didn't mean any harm," cried Fred, with a droll look, "and
should have told you afterwards."

"Yes; but--"

"Look here," cried Fred, "you say another word about it, and I'll throw
all the water over you."

"Let's make haste, then, and go and find the way in before breakfast."

For answer Fred scooped away at such a rate that he had soon cleared the
boat down to the little well-like hollow arranged to catch the
drainings.

"Now then," he cried, "I'm tired. You row."

Scarlett unhooked the chain, gave the boat a good thrust, seized the
oars, and in ten minutes more they were coasting along as near to the
bank as the overhanging trees and projecting bushes would allow.

For quite half an hour they searched to and fro, but without result.
There were plenty of likely looking places overgrown with ivy, and
sheltered by the willows, alders, and birches, but not one showed a sign
of having been built up with rough blocks of stone, or presented a hole
such as they had seen from the inside.

"We shall never find it like this," said Fred, at last.

"How are we to find it, then? And we must go soon, as some one will see
us, and wonder what we are doing."

"Oh no; they'll only think we are fishing," said Fred. "I'll tell you
how to find it."

"How?"

"We must cut a long willow, and strip it all but the leaves on the end."

"What for?"

"Then one of us must go down the opening yonder, wade along the passage,
poke the stick out through the hole, and shout."

"Yes; that would do it nicely," said Scarlett. "But who's to do it?"

"Let's both go."

"Then we should be no wiser, because there would be no one out here to
listen."

"No," said Fred; and then, "Let's have another try."

They had another try--a long and careful search, but the entrance had
been too cunningly masked.

"It's of no use," said Scarlett, drawing in the oars. "One of us must
go."

Silence. And Fred seemed to be deeply interested in the proceedings of
a great flap-winged heron which had alighted on the further shore.

"Will you go, Fred?" said Scarlett, at last.

"No. It's your place, and you ought to go."

"Yes," said Scarlett, slowly; "I suppose I ought."

"No, no, I'll go," cried Fred, eagerly. "I will not be so shabby.
Let's cut a stick, and then set me ashore."

Scarlett nodded, and resuming the rowing, ran the boat's head ashore,
close to a clump of willows. Then, tak