Propping the edge on my knee, I reached for the candle, and held it in the opening, moving it to right and left; but could see nothing.  I was puzzled and surprised.  There were no signs of steps, nor even the appearance of there ever having been any.  Nothing; save an empty blackness.  I might have been looking down into a bottomless, sideless well.  Then, even as I stared, full of perplexity, I seemed to hear, far down, as though from untold depths, a faint whisper of sound.  I bent my head, quickly, more into the opening, and listened, intently.  It may have been fancy; but I could have sworn to hearing a soft titter, that grew into a hideous, chuckling, faint and distant.  Startled, I leapt backward, letting the trap fall, with a hollow clang, that filled the place with echoes.  Even then, I seemed to hear that mocking, suggestive laughter; but this, I knew, must be my imagination.  The sound, I had heard, was far too slight to penetrate through the cumbrous trap.

For a full minute, I stood there, quivering—­glancing, nervously, behind and before; but the great cellar was silent as a grave, and, gradually, I shook off the frightened sensation.  With a calmer mind, I became again curious to know into what that trap opened; but could not, then, summon sufficient courage to make a further investigation.  One thing I felt, however, was that the trap ought to be secured.  This, I accomplished by placing upon it several large pieces of ‘dressed’ stone, which I had noticed in my tour along the East wall.

Then, after a final scrutiny of the rest of the place, I retraced my way through the cellars, to the stairs, and so reached the daylight, with an infinite feeling of relief, that the uncomfortable task was accomplished.

X

THE TIME OF WAITING

The sun was now warm, and shining brightly, forming a wondrous contrast to the dark and dismal cellars; and it was with comparatively light feelings, that I made my way up to the tower, to survey the gardens.  There, I found everything quiet, and, after a few minutes, went down to Mary’s room.

Here, having knocked, and received a reply, I unlocked the door.  My sister was sitting, quietly, on the bed; as though waiting.  She seemed quite herself again, and made no attempt to move away, as I approached; yet, I observed that she scanned my face, anxiously, as though in doubt, and but half assured in her mind that there was nothing to fear from me.

To my questions, as to how she felt, she replied, sanely enough, that she was hungry, and would like to go down to prepare breakfast, if I did not mind.  For a minute, I meditated whether it would be safe to let her out.  Finally, I told her she might go, on condition that she promised not to attempt to leave the house, or meddle with any of the outer doors.  At my mention of the doors, a sudden look of fright crossed her face; but she said nothing, save to give the required promise, and then left the room, silently.