ave the horrible fancy that the old priest's shaven
head was peering up the chimney at me, to see what I was doing in his
old room, long since given over to the birds.

As I expected, there was a way of escape from the hiding-place. A big
stone in the wall seemed to project unnecessarily; the last comer to
that room had shut the door carelessly; otherwise I might never have
found it. Seeing the projecting stone, I took it for a clue feeling all
round it, till I found that underneath it there was a groove for finger
tips. The stone was nothing more than a large, cunningly fashioned
drawer, which pulled out, showing a passage leading down, down, along
narrow winding steps, just broad enough for one man to creep down at a
time. The stairs were more awesome than the room, for they were dark. I
could not see where they led; but I meant to go through this adventure,
now that I had begun it. So down I crept cautiously, clinging to the
wall, feeling with my feet as I went, lest there should be no step,
suddenly, but a black pit, far down, into which a man might fall
headlong, on to who knows what horrors. I counted the steps. I thought
that they would never end. There were thirty-seven altogether. They
brought me to a dark sort of room, with damp earth for its floor, upon
which water slowly dropped from some unseen stalactite. I judged that
I must be somewhere under the bath-chamber, not more than ten feet from
the abbot's old fish-pond. If there was a way out I felt that it must
be to my left, under the garden; not to my right, which would lead back
under the body of the house.

Very cautiously I felt along to my left, till I found that there was
indeed a passage; but one so low that I had to stoop to get along it. A
few steps further brought me with a shock against a wall, a sad surprise
to me, for I thought that I was on the road to safety. When I recovered
from my fear I felt along the wall till I found that the passage
zigzagged like a badger's earth. It turned once sharply to the right,
going up a couple of steps, then again sharply to the left, going up a
few more steps, then again to the right up one step more, to a broader
open stretch, lit by one or two tiny chinks, more cheering to me than
you can imagine. I guessed that I was passing at last under the garden,
having gone right below the house's foundations. The chinks of light
seemed to me to come from holes worn in the roof by rabbits or rats.
They were pleasant t