CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A STRANGE FISH IN THE NET.

Hilary's first act on recovering himself was to creep back cautiously to the side, and lower down the stone over the open well, shivering still as he realised more fully the narrowness of his escape.

"Old Allstone will be wanting to know what I have done with his jug," he said, as he seated himself upon the stool, and began to think what he should do.

He was somewhat unnerved by his adventure, but recovering himself fast, and he had the whole night before him for making another attempt. All the same, though, the time wore on without his moving; for the recollection of that horrible whispering plash and the echoes that had smitten his ear were hard to get rid of, try how he would; but at last, feeling that he was wasting time, he began upon hands and knees creeping about the place, and tapping the floor.

There were plenty of hollow, echoing sounds in reply as he hammered away with the hilt of the cutla.s.s, and, telling himself that there could not be wells beneath every stone, he made up his mind at last to try one which seemed to present the greatest facilities for his effort--that is, as far as he could tell by feeling the crack between it and the next.

It proved a long and a tough job before he could move it. Twice over he was about to give it up, for when at last he managed to make it move a little it kept slipping back into its place, and seeming to wedge itself farther in.

The perspiration ran down his cheeks, and his arms ached; but he was toiling for liberty, and on the _nil desperandum_ principle he worked away.

For, as he thought matters over, he was compelled to own that, however much Lieutenant Lips...o...b.. might feel disposed to search for him, he had been spirited away so suddenly that it was not likely that success would attend the search.

Under these circ.u.mstances there was nothing for it but that he should depend upon himself, and this he did to such a brave extent that at last he placed the point of the cutla.s.s in so satisfactory a position that on heaving up the stone upon which he was at work it did not slip back, but was so much dislodged that a little farther effort enabled him to pull it aside; and then he sat down panting beside the black square opening in the floor.

It was so dark that most of his work had to be done by the sense of touch, and consequently the toil was twice as hard, for he could not see where it was best to apply force. All the same, though, perseverance was rewarded, and he had raised the stone.

Hilary did not feel in any great hurry to try his fortune this time; for after his experience when he raised the last stone, he did not know what might be here. Try to laugh it off as he would, there was a curious, creeping sensation of dread came over him. He knew that this was a chapel, and what more likely than that the vault beneath might be the abiding place of the dead--of those who had occupied this old place in the past; and, mingled with this, Adela's words would come back about the place being haunted.

"Bah!" he exclaimed at last. "What a fool you are, Hil!"

As he spoke he gave himself a tremendous blow in the chest with his doubled fist, hurting himself a great deal more than he intended, and this roused him once more to action.

He was not going to lower himself down this time without trying for bottom; and pulling out his cord, he tied it to the hilt of the cutla.s.s, lowered it into the hole, and began to fish, as he expressed it.

Clang! Jingle!

Steel upon stone, as far as he could judge, just over six feet below where he was leaning over.

He tried again, here, there, and everywhere within his reach, and the result was always the same, and there could be no mistake this time; he might drop down in safety.

He could not help hesitation, for the hole was black and forbidding.

But it was for liberty, and after pausing for a few moments while he leaned down and felt about as far as he could reach, he prepared to descend.

His examination had taught him that the vault below was arched, for, close by him, he could feel the thickness of the floor, while at the other side of the square opening he could not reach down to the edge of the arch, try how he would. In fact, his plan of sounding the floor had answered admirably, and he had raised a stone just in the right place.

Hesitating no longer he thrust the cutla.s.s into his waistband and proceeded to lower himself down. His acts were very cautiously carried out, for his former experience had taught him care, and holding on tightly by the edge he gradually slid down, till at the full extent of his arms he felt firm footing.

Still he did not leave hold, but pa.s.sing himself along first one edge and then another of his hole till he had gone along all four sides, and always with the same result, he let go, and stood in safety upon a stone floor.

Drawing his cutla.s.s, he felt overhead the opening where the stone had been removed, and wondered what he was to do to find it again in the intense darkness; but he was obliged to own that he could do nothing.

A thrust to right touched nothing; a thrust to left had no better result; and then he stood and wiped his brow.

"I wonder what I shall find," he said to himself. "Cases and tubs, or old coffins."

He thrust out the sword once more straight in front of him, and this time it touched wood, and made him shiver.

For a few moments he did not care to move and investigate farther; but rousing himself once more, he tried again with his hand, to find that he touched hoops and staves, and that it was a goodly-sized tub.

He tried again, cautiously, feeling carefully with one foot before he attempted to move another, for the thought struck him that not very far from him the opening down into that terrible well must be yawning in the floor, and under these circ.u.mstances he moved most carefully.

He found that he need not have been so cautious, for after a little more of this obscure investigation he learned that he was in a very circ.u.mscribed area, surrounded on all sides by a most heterogeneous collection of tubs, full and empty, rough cases, bales, ropes, blocks, and iron tackle, such as might be used in a fishing-boat; and the next thing his hands encountered was a pile of fishing-nets.

It was as he had expected: the vault or cellar below the chapel was full of the stores belonging to the smugglers, and his task now was to find his way out.

It was of no avail to wish for flint and steel, to try, if only by the light of a few sparks, to dispel this terrible darkness, which seemed to surround and close him in, prisoning his faculties, as it were, and preventing him, now he had got so far, from making his escape.

There was always the dread of coming upon that terrible well acting like a bar to further progress. Then there was the utter helplessness of his position. Which way was he to go?

"At all events," he said to himself at last, "I can't go down the well if I'm climbing over tubs;" and he felt his way to the place where he had first touched a cask, and climbing up, he found that he could progress a little way, always getting higher, with many an awkward slip; and then he had to stop, for his head touched the roof.

A trial to right and left had no better result, and there was nothing for it but to return and begin elsewhere.

This he did, crawling over nets and boxes and packages, whose kind and shape he could not make out, but he always seemed to be stopped, try where he would, and at last, panting and hot with his exertions, he lay down on some fishing-nets close by to rest himself and endeavour to think out what was best to do.

Suddenly, and without the slightest warning, there was a heavy grating creak; a door was thrown open; and what to his eyes seemed to be a dazzling light shone into the place, revealing a narrow pa.s.sage not ten feet from where he lay, but which he had pa.s.sed over in the darkness again and again.

"Better light two or three more candles," said a gruff voice.

"All right," was the reply; and from just on the other side of a pile of merchandise that reached to the ceiling Hilary could hear some one blowing at the tindery fluff made by lighting the top of a fresh candle.

What was he to do? He could not see the men who had come down, for he was separated from them by the piled-up contents of the cellar; but any attempt to regain the chapel must result in discovery, so he lay motionless, hardly daring to breathe, till he heard more footsteps coming--heavy, shuffling footsteps, as if those who came were loaded; and, waiting till they came nearer and one of the first comers said something aloud, Hilary raised himself slightly, and, almost with the rapidity of thought, covered himself with some of the soft, loose fishing-nets, feet and legs first, then shoulders and head, finally throwing a few more folds over his head, and then lying down.

"Wouldn't be a bad plan to give them a good dose of brimstone," said one of the men.

"Give who a good dose?" said another.

"Why, the rats. Didn't you hear 'em?"

"Oh, ay, yes; I did hear a bit of scuffling. Let 'em bide; they don't do much mischief."

"Not much mischief!" said the other as Hilary felt his hopes rise as he heard the noise attributed to rats. "Why, there's a couple o' hundred fathom o' mack'rel net lying t'other side there gnawed full of holes."

"What o' that?" said the other. "Why, one such night as this, lad, is worth two months o' mack'rel fishing."

"Well, yes, so it be. Ah! that's better. We shall see now what we're about. I say, it was rather a near one with the cutter to-night. I thought she'd ha' been down upon us."

"Down upon us? ay! I wish her skipper was boxed up safe along with young c.o.c.kchafer yonder."

"Hang his insolence!" thought Hilary. "Young c.o.c.kchafer, indeed! He'll find me more of a wasp."

"Think anyone sent word to the cutter?"