The Secret Chamber at Chad | Page 7

better, for the way thither is
wondrous tortuous and narrow."
Bertram had a little lantern--a very treasured possession of his--and
after the usual tedious process of lighting had been gone through, he
softly led the way back to the sleeping chamber. With his own hands he
undid the fastening of the door and saw it swing open, and then the two
passed through into a very narrow aperture, which proved to be a long
narrow gallery contrived in the thickness of the wall, which would only
just admit of the passage of one figure at a time.
As they went in they drew to the door, and the fugitive showed his
young companion how the bolt upon the inner side might be unloosed.
"It is easy enow in the light, but hard to feel in the black darkness," he
remarked; and then they pursued their devious way on and on through
this strange passage, which wound up and down and in and out, and
landed them at last at the foot of a spiral staircase, so narrow and
squeezed in by masonry as to be barely serviceable for the purpose for
which it was contrived. It led them to a small door, through which they
passed, to find themselves in a room of fair size but very low, and
without any window, which seemed to occupy (as indeed it did) a
portion of the house between two of the other floors, and was so
contrived as to absolutely defy detection be the examination of the
structure of the house never so exhaustive. If the secret door were not
found, nothing else would ever betray this cunning hiding-place.
Doubtless that was why, during the many changes that had prevailed at
Chad during the past fifty years, the knowledge of its very existence

had been lost.
"Air comes in freely through many cracks and slits," explained the
prisoner. "It is not an unpleasant place save in the heat of the middle
day, when it becomes like a veritable oven. That is why my thirst was
so unbearable. There is a bed, as thou seest, and a chair and a few other
things. One could be comfortable here were it not for starvation and
thirst."
"I will feed thee so long as thou remainest hid," cried the boy, with
generous ardour. "Thou shalt hide there by day, and by night shalt
wander abroad an thou wilt, to breathe the air and stretch thy limbs. My
brothers and I will be thy friends. Thou needst fear nothing now. We
will find out when it is safe for thee to leave thy retreat, and then thou
shalt go forth without fear; or, if thou likest it better, thou shalt abide
here till our father returns and take service with him. I doubt not he
would be glad enow to number a Warbel again amongst his trusty
servants."
The man's face lighted up wonderfully.
"If he would do that," he cried eagerly, "I should have no wish for
anything better. But my master, the baron--"
"My father fears not the baron!" answered the boy proudly; "and,
besides, his young kinsman is not dead. We heard something of his side
of the tale, and the youth is not even like to die now. My father could
protect thee from his wrath. Stay here, and thou wilt have naught to
fear."
The fugitive took the lad's hand and pressed it to his lips.
"I will serve thee for ever and ever for this boon," he answered; and
Bertram went back to his room, to lie awake and muse over what had
befallen till the dawn broke and his brothers awoke to the new day.
To keep any secret from his two brothers was a thing impossible to
Bertram, and before they had finished dressing that morning, Edred and
Julian were both made aware of the strange adventure of the night
previous. Looking up to Bertram, as they both did, as the embodiment
of prowess and courage, they did not grudge him his wonderful
discovery, but they were eager to visit the fugitive themselves, and to
carry him food and drink.
The days that followed were days of absolute enchantment to the boys,
who delighted in waiting on Warbel and passing hours in his company.

He told them entrancing stories of adventure and peril. He was devoted
to his three youthful keepers, and wished for nothing better than to
enter service with their father.
Later on, when all hue and cry after the missing man was over, and
when Lord Mortimer's young kinsman was so far recovered that it
would be impossible to summon Warbel for any injury inflicted on him,
Bertram conducted him to the hut of one of his father's woodmen, who
promised to keep him safe till the