"That it can't be, for they were all buried at the church."

"Well, it looks like it," said Fred. "Shall we go any farther?"

"Yes, of course. I want to see what's behind the door."

Nerving himself to the effort, Scarlett stepped over the intervening
space, and took hold of the top bolt, which, like its fellow, was shot
into a socket in the stone wall.

But the bolt was rusted to the staples, and he could not move it with
one hand.

"Hold the light, Fred," he exclaimed; and his companion stood behind
him, bearing both candles, as Scarlett tugged and strained and wrenched
vainly at the corroded iron.

"Wants a hammer to start it," said Fred, as the interest in these
proceedings drove away the sensations of nervousness. "Shall we go back
and fetch one?"

"I'm--afraid--we shall have to," panted Scarlett, as he toiled and
strained at the stubborn bolt. "It's of no use to try and--"

There was a sharp creak, the bolt gave way a little, and the rest was
only a work of time, for by wriggling it up and down the rust was ground
out, and at last it yielded and was drawn back.

"Let me have a try at the other," cried Fred; and Scarlett squeezed by
him and took the candles, to stand, hot and panting, watching intently
while his companion attacked the lower bolt.

This was even more compactly fixed than the other; but the thumb-piece
was projecting, and Fred began on this with his foot, kicking it upward
with his toe, and stamping it down again, till it gradually loosened,
and, after a little more working, shot back with ease.

Fred drew away from the door then, and looked at his companion.

"Shall we open it now?" he said, with his old hesitation returning.

Scarlett did not answer for a few moments.

"Think it is a tomb?" he said.

"You said it was not," replied Fred.

"It would be very horrible if it is; I shouldn't like to look in."

The door opened from them, and, as they stood there, they could see that
it had given a little, so that the edge was nearly half an inch from the
stonework, and a faint, damp odour reached their nostrils.

"Don't let's be cowards," cried Fred; and, raising one foot, he placed
it against the door, gave a hard thrust, and started back so suddenly
that he nearly overset Scarlett with the lights.

But the door did not fly open. It only yielded a few inches, the hinges
giving forth a dismal, grating sound, and for a few moments the boys
stood hesitating.

"I don't care," cr