What was she going to do? She did not know where her father’s hiding-place was but she felt certain the entrance to it must be somewhere in or near the little stone room. Should she make her way to that?
Yes, she would. It would be the only place to shelter in for the night, anyway. She would put on her torch when she got there, and hunt round for any likely entrance to the hiding-place. If she found it, she would go in and what a surprise she would give her father! If old Timmy was there he would go mad with delight. She took the heavy bag, draped the rug over her arm, and set off. She did not dare to put on her torch yet, in case the unknown enemy was lurking near. After all, her father had heard him cough at night! George was not frightened. She did not even think about being frightened. All her thoughts were set on finding Timmy and making sure he was safe.
She came to the little stone room. It was pitch-dark in there, of course – not even the faint light of the moon pierced into its blackness. George had to put on her torch.
She put down her bundle at the back of the wall, near the old fireplace recess. She draped the rug over it and sat down to have a rest, switching off her torch.
After a while she got up cautiously and switched on her torch again. She began to search for the hiding-place. Where could the entrance be? She flashed her torch on to every flagstone in the floor of the room. But not one looked as if it had been moved or lifted. There was nothing to show where there might be an entrance underground.
She moved round the walls, examining those too in the light of her torch. No – there was no sign that a hidden way lay behind any of those stones either. It was most tantalizing. If she only knew! She went to wrap the rug round her, and to sit and think. It was cold now. She was shivering, as she sat there in the dark, trying to puzzle out where the hidden entrance could be.
And then she heard a sound She jumped and then stiffened all over, holding her breath painfully. What was it?
There was a curious grating noise. Then a slight thud. It came from the recess where people long ago had built their big log fires! George sat perfectly still, straining her eyes and ears.
She saw a beam of light in the fireplace recess. Then she heard a man’s cough! Was it her father? He had a cough at times. She listened hard. The beam of light grew brighter. Then she heard another noise – it sounded as if someone had jumped down from somewhere! And then — a voice! ‘Come on!’ It was not her father’s voice! George grew cold with fear then. Not her father’s voice! Then what had happened to him — and to Timmy?
Someone else jumped down into the recess, grumbling. ‘I’m not used to this crawling about!’ That wasn’t her father’s voice either. So there were two unknown enemies! Not one. And they knew her father’s secret workroom. George felt almost faint with horror. Whatever had happened to him and Timmy?
The men walked out of the little stone room without seeing George at all. She guessed they were going to the tower. How long would they be? Long enough for her to search for the place they had appeared from?
She strained her ears again. She heard their footsteps going into the great yard. She tiptoed to the doorway and looked out. Yes — there was the light of their torch near the, tower! If they were going up, there would be plenty of time to look round.
She went back into the little stone room. Her hands were trembling and she found it difficult to switch on her torch. She went to the fireplace recess and flashed the light in it.
She gave a gasp! Half-way up the recess at the back was a black opening! She flashed the light up there. Evidently there was a movable stone half-way up that swung back and revealed an entrance behind. An entrance to what? Were there steps, such as were shown in the old map?
Feeling quite breathless, George stood on tip-toe and flashed her light into the hole. Yes — there were steps! They went down into the wall at the back. She remembered that the little stone room backed on to one of the immensely thick old walls still left.
She stood there, uncertain what to do. Had she better go down and see if she could find Timmy and her father? But if she did, she might be made a prisoner too. On the other hand, if she stayed outside, and the men came back and shut up the entrance, she might not be able to open it. She would be worse off than ever! ‘I’ll go down!’ she suddenly decided. ‘But I’d better take my bag and the rug, in case the ‘men come back and see them. I don’t want them to know I’m on the island if I can help it! I could hide them somewhere down there, I expect. I wonder if this entrance leads to the dungeons.’ She lifted up the rug and the bag and pushed them into the hole. She heard the bag roll down the steps, the tins inside making a muffled noise. Then she climbed up herself. Gracious, what a long dark flight of steps! Wherever did they lead to?
Chapter Sixteen.
DOWN TO THE CAVES
GEORGE went cautiously down the stone steps. They were steep and narrow. ‘I should think they run right down in the middle of the stone wall,’ thought George.
‘Goodness, here’s a narrow bit!’ It was so narrow that she had to go sideways. ‘A fat man would never get through there!’ she thought to herself. ‘Hallo — the steps have ended!’ She had got her rug round her shoulders, and had picked up her bag on the way down. In her other hand she held her torch. It was terribly dark and quiet down there. George did not feel scared because she was hoping to see Timmy at any moment. No one could feel afraid with Timmy just round the corner, ready to welcome them! She stood at the bottom of the steps, her torch showing her a narrow tunnel. It curved sharply to the left.
‘Now will it join the dungeons from here?’ she wondered, trying to get her sense of direction to help her. ‘They can’t be far off. But there’s no sign of them at the moment.’ She went on down the narrow tunnel. Once the roof came down so low she almost had to crawl. She flashed her torch on it. She saw black rock there, which had evidently been too hard to be removed by the tunnel builders long ago.
The tunnel went on and on and on. George was puzzled. Surely by now she must have gone by all the dungeons! Why – she must be heading towards the shore of the island! How very queer! Didn’t this tunnel join the dungeons then? A little further and she would be under the bed of the sea itself, The tunnel took a deep slope downwards. More steps appeared, cut roughly from rock. George climbed down them cautiously. Where in the world was she going?
At the bottom of the steps the tunnel seemed to be cut out of solid rock – or else it was a natural passage, not made by man at all. George didn’t know. Her torch showed her black, rocky walls and roof, and her feet stumbled over an irregular rocky path. How she longed for Timmy beside her! ‘I must be very deep down,’ she thought, pausing to flash her torch round her once more. ‘Very deep down and very far from the castle! Good gracious – whatever’s that awful noise?’ She listened. She heard a muffled booming and moaning. Was it her father doing one of his experiments? The noise went on and on, a deep, never-ending boom.
‘Why – I believe it’s the sea!’ said George, amazed. She stood and listened again. ‘Yes — it is the sea — over my head! I’m under the rocky bed of Kirrin Bay!’ And now poor George did feel a bit scared! She thought of the great waves surging above her, she thought of the restless, moving water scouring the rocky bed over her head, and felt frightened in case the sea should find a way to leak down into her narrow tunnel! ‘Now, don’t be silly,’ she told herself sternly. ‘This tunnel has been here under the sea-bed for hundreds of years — why should it suddenly become unsafe just when you are in it, George?’ Talking to herself like this, to keep up her spirits, she went on again. It was very queer indeed to think she was walking under the sea. So this was where her father was at work! Under the sea itself.