te in the--"

"Oh, don't!" said Margaret. "You really frighten me. Yes, they must be
for hams; now I think of it, I have heard Frances speak of the
drying-closet. This wall is warm; it must be close against the kitchen
chimney."

"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Gerald. "Here are steps, Miss Montfort. Stone
steps, leading down to a trap-door. Shall I help you down, or--no, I
will go alone. When I open the door, a hollow groan will be heard, and
the clank of iron fetters. Would you rather have me descend to Hades
with a loud squeak, or shall a headless spectre arise, grinning and--beg
pardon! anatomy at fault; grinning requires a head. That's the way! my
genius is always checked in its soaring flight, and pulled back to earth
by idiot facts."

Running on thus, Gerald descended the stone steps, Margaret following to
their top, timidly. Sure enough, there was a trap-door at the bottom,
with a ring in it; a perfectly orthodox trap-door, suitable for the
Arabian Nights or anything else. Gerald took hold of the ring, prepared
for a vigorous pull; then paused, and looked at his companion. "I hear
voices!" he said. "Hark!"

They listened. A low murmur came up from below; the voices were muffled,
by distance or intervening substances, and could not be distinguished.

"Oh, do you think we'd better open it?" said Margaret, who had such a
wholesome awe of the Mysteries of Fernley that she was prepared for
anything in the way of the marvellous.

"That is what I think!" said Gerald, cheerfully. "That's what it was
made for, you see. A door that does not fulfil its destiny might just as
well be something else, skittles, or a pump, or--other things. Now
this--"

As he spoke, he gave a vigorous pull; the door lifted, but at the same
instant the candle slipped from his hand, and fell rattling into some
unseen depth below, leaving them in blank darkness. Margaret uttered a
cry of alarm. "Don't fall! Oh, pray be careful, Mr. Merryweather!"

"All right!" said Gerald. "Stay just where you are, for a moment, while
I explore this--aperture. Ha! the steps continue. You don't mind if I
leave you in the dark for just a minute, Miss Montfort?"

Margaret did not mind, once assured that her companion was not engaged
in the congenial pursuit of breaking his neck. She began feeling about
her in the darkness, darkness so thick it was like black velvet, she
said to herself. She found the wall; it was warm, as she said; she began
passing her hand mechan