“Yes, yes, Colonel; I knows what you mean.  Bless you, I know all about it; the old Squire must talk to somebody; if he don’t he’d bust, so he talks to me.  That Cossey’s coming for his answer from Miss Ida this morning.  Poor young lady, I saw her yesterday, and she looks like a ghost, she du.  Ah, he’s a mean one, that Cossey.  Laryer Quest warn’t in it with him after all.  Well, I cooked his goose for him, and I’d give summut to have a hand in cooking that banker chap’s too.  You wait a minute, Colonel, and I’ll come along, gale and ghostesses and all.  I only hope it mayn’t be after a fool’s arrand, that’s all,” and he retired to put on his boots.  Presently he appeared again, his red nightcap still on his head, for he was afraid that the wind would blow a hat off, and carrying an unlighted lantern in his hand.

“Now, Colonel, I’m ready, sir, if you be;” and they started.

The gale was, if anything, fiercer than ever.  Indeed, there had been no such wind in those parts for years, or rather centuries, as the condition of the timber by ten o’clock that morning amply testified.

“This here timpest must be like that as the Squire tells us on in the time of King Charles, as blew the top of the church tower off on a Christmas night,” shouted George.  But Harold made no answer, and they fought their way onward without speaking any more, for their voices were almost inaudible.  Once the Colonel stopped and pointed to the sky-line.  Of all the row of tall poplars which he had seen bending like whips before the wind as he came along but one remained standing now, and as he pointed that vanished also.

Reaching the summer house in safety, they entered, and the Colonel shut and locked the door behind them.  The frail building was literally rocking in the fury of the storm.

“I hope the roof will hold,” shouted George, but Harold took no heed.  He was thinking of other things.  They lit the lanterns, of which they now had three, and the Colonel slid down into the great grave he had so industriously dug, motioning to George to follow.  This that worthy did, not without trepidation.  Then they both knelt and stared down through the hole in the masonry, but the light of the lanterns was not strong enough to enable them to make out anything with clearness.

“Well,” said George, falling back upon his favourite expression in his amazement, as he drew his nightcapped head from the hole, “if that ain’t a master one, I niver saw a masterer, that’s all.

“What be you a-going to du now, Colonel?  Hev you a ladder here?”

“No,” answered Harold, “I never thought of that, but I’ve a good rope:  I’ll get it.”

Scrambling out of the hole, he presently returned with a long coil of stout rope.  It belonged to some men who had been recently employed in cutting boughs off such of the oaks that needed attention.

They undid the rope and let the end down to see how deep the pit was.  When they felt that the end lay upon the floor they pulled it up.  The depth from the hole to the bottom of the pit appeared to be about sixteen feet or a trifle more.