CHAPTER III
PRISONERSI endeavoured to behave normally. “Well, and what now?” I asked.
“We’ve got to find another way out. Nothing but a charge of dynamite would shift that door.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t an accident? I mean—the wind——?”
“No. No more an accident than Hales’ death.”
“You think there is someone here?”
“I am sure of it.”
“Why?”
“Let us not discuss reasons for the moment. We must see about getting out. I have a feeling that it isn’t going to be easy. Thank God we’ve got a torch, anyway.”
As he spoke he led the way to the bottom of the steps and then stood undecided, for on all sides the cellars extended like the cloisters of a monastery. The beam came to rest on several long wooden wine-bins, but they were, of course, empty.
“It looks as if we’re in the wine-cellar,” I
