I was back
instantly, and clambered recklessly into the hole.
I went down slowly, clinging desperately to the twisted sheets, unable
to gain the slightest purchase on the smoothly plastered side walls. My
fingers slipped, but I managed to hang on until I reached the very end
of my improvised rope, my feet dangling, my arms aching from the weight.
To hold on longer was seemingly impossible, yet I could neither see nor
feel bottom. I let go, confident the distance could not be great, and
came down without much shock a half-dozen feet below. I was in a large
fire-place, apparently never utilized, the opening entirely covered by a
screen of cast-iron. This fitted closely, but was unfastened, and, after
feeling about cautiously in the darkness, I pushed it slightly to one
side, and peered forth.
A large, rather handsomely furnished room was revealed, evidently a
back-parlor, closed folding doors being conspicuous in the front wall.
Three windows faced the north, their curtains partially drawn, and I
could perceive through them the lattice work of a porch, covered with
the green and red of a rambler rose. I recognized instantly the
situation; this room was opposite, directly across the hall from where
we had eaten breakfast, its windows also commanding a view of the road.
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