“They did not get in by this way when the first attempt was made,” he said.

“No,” answered Malipieri.  “I cannot find out how they made an entrance.”

“There used to be a story of an oubliette that was supposed to be somewhere in the house,” said Sabina.

“I have found it.  You will see it in a moment, for we have to pass through the bottom of it.”

“How amusing!  I never saw one.”

They came to the first breach in the cellar wall.  A small lamp had been placed on a stone in a position to illuminate the entrance, and was burning brightly.  Masin had lighted two others, further on, and had covered the bones in the dry well with pieces of sacking.  Malipieri went up the causeway first.  At first he held out his hand to Sabina, but she shook her head and smiled.  There would be no satisfaction in being helped over an easy place; she should like him to help her where it would need some strength and skill to do so.  She drew her skirt round her and walked up unaided, and followed by Sassi, leaning on his stick with one hand and on Masin with the other.

The descent into the first chamber was less easy.  Standing at the top, Sabina looked down at Malipieri, who held his lantern to her feet.  She felt a delicious little uneasiness now, and listened to the ghostly gurgle from the channel in the dark.

“What is that?” she asked, and her voice was a little awed by the darkness and strangeness of the place.

“The ‘lost water.’  It runs through here.”

She listened a moment longer, and began to descend, placing her feet on the stones upon which Malipieri laid his hand, one after another, to show her the way.

“Perhaps you might help me a little here,” she said.

“If you will let me put your feet on the right step, it will be easier,” he answered.

“Yes.  Do that, please.  Show me the place first.”

“There.  Do you see?  Now!”

He laid his hand firmly upon her small russet shoe, guided the little foot to a safe position and steadied it there a moment.

“So,” he said.  “Now the next.  There are only four or five more.”

She was rather sorry that there were so few, for they seemed delightfully safe, or just dangerous enough to be amusing; she was not quite sure which.  Women never analyze the present, unless it is utterly dull.

At the bottom of the descent, both looked up, and saw at a glance that poor old Sassi could never get down, even with assistance.  He seemed unable to put his foot down without slipping, in spite of Masin’s help.

“I think you had better not try it,” said Malipieri quietly.  “In a few days I am sure that the Senator will have a way broken through from above, and then it will be easy enough.”

“Yes,” answered the old man regretfully.  “I will go back again to the other side and wait for you.”

“I am so sorry,” said Sabina untruthfully, but looking up with sympathy.