Crown and Sceptre | Page 6

with a short piece of candle burning therein, and shut it up in one of the great cupboards in the hall, so as to lose no time.
Then they fidgeted up and down, listening intently the while; examined some of the well-oiled, warlike weapons on the walls; crept upstairs and along the corridor to listen at the bedroom door; ran down again, and waited until the suspense seemed unbearable.
"I believe she has gone to bed and fallen asleep," whispered Fred.
"Nonsense! She dare not in that best room."
"Let's go out in the garden, then, and leave it till another day."
"And when will that be? Why, everybody will be about then. No; we must examine the place to-day."
"What's that?" cried Fred, suddenly. "What's what?"
"I can smell fire."
"Well, they're cooking in the kitchen, I suppose."
"No, no; it's wood burning. Oh, Scar, look there!"
As Fred pointed toward the great closet in one corner of the hall, the lads could see a thin blue film of vapour stealing out through the crack at the top; and their first inclination was to run away and shout "Fire!" But second thoughts are best.
"Come on," cried Scar; and he ran to the closet door, swung it open, and the reason for the smoke was plain enough to see. The candle which they had hidden there till the maid came down had been badly fastened in the socket; had fallen over sidewise, probably when the door was closed, and was now leaning up against the oak wainscot, guttering down rapidly, and burning a long, channel-like hole in the woodwork, which was pouring forth smoke, and would in a few minutes have become serious.
As it was, a little presence of mind was sufficient to avert the danger. The candle was removed, and a handkerchief pressed against the smouldering wainscot stifled the tiny fire, while the windows being open, the pale blue smoke soon evaporated, and the candle was left securely now as the lads re-entered the hall and carefully closed the door once more.
"We should have looked nice if the old hall had been burned down," said Fred.
"Oh, nonsense!" was the reply. "The place is too strong and full of oak and stone. The hall couldn't be burned. Here, it's of no use waiting any longer; she will not come down. Let's go out in the garden."
Fred glanced at the stairs, and followed his companion unwillingly; but no sooner were they outside than Scar called his companion's attention to the bedroom window, where the maid in question was leaning out, watching Nat Lee, as he slowly did his work.
The girl caught sight of the two lads, drew back, and as they waited in the great porch they had the satisfaction of hearing her go back, along the corridor, closing the door at the end.
"Now, Fred," said Scarlett, excitedly, "we're safe at last." He dashed up the stairs and slipped the bolt of the door through which the maid had just passed, and returned to the top of the stairs. "Come along," he whispered. "Don't stand there. Bring the light."
Fred ran to the great closet and obtained the burning candle. The baluster was twisted; there was the familiar crick-crack; the loose step was thrust back, and the boys stood looking into the long box-like opening.
"Wouldn't it be safer to fasten the front door too?" said Fred in a whisper.
"Yes, and be quick," replied his companion in the same low, excited manner.
Fred ran down, closed the great oaken door, ran a ponderous bolt into its receptacle, and again joined his companion.
"Now then," whispered Scarlett, "what shall we do?"
As he spoke he knelt down and thrust the candle in as far as he could reach, disclosing the fact that this was no rough back to the staircase, but a smooth, carefully finished piece of work.
"Shall we try if we can creep in?" suggested Fred.
"I hardly like to; but if you will, I will."
"I will," replied Fred, laconically.
"But how are we to get in? It isn't deep enough to crawl."
"Tell you what," cried Fred, "I think the way is to lie down in it and then roll along. There's plenty of room that way."
"Will you try?"
"If you'll come after me."
"Go on, then."
Fred hesitated a few moments, and then holding the candle as far forward as he could he lay down, but instead of rolling, shuffled himself along under the landing, finding plenty of room for his journey, and pushing the light onward as he crept sidewise.
"Coming, Scar?" he whispered rather hoarsely.
"Yes, I'm coming. Mind the candle doesn't set fire to anything. What's that?"
"Only a cobweb burning. The place is full of them; and--Oh, Scar!"
"What is it?"
"I can get my legs down here, and--yes, it's a narrow passage, and I can stand upright."
Wondering more and more, Scarlett shuffled along to his companion, and directly after they