Edith Nesbit: Children's Books Collection (Illustrated Edition). Эдит Несбит

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СКАЧАТЬ light looked down into the precipice.

      Its bottom transpired to be not much more than six feet below, so Oswald turned the other end of himself first, hung by his hands, and dropped with fearless promptness, uninjured, in another cellar. He then helped Denny down. The cornery thing Denny happened to fall on could not have hurt him so much as he said.

      The light of the torch, I mean match, now revealed to the two bold and youthful youths another cellar, with things in it—very dirty indeed, but of thrilling interest and unusual shapes, but the match went out before we could see exactly what the things were.

       OSWALD DID NOT STRIKE THE NEXT MATCH CAREFULLY ENOUGH.

      The next match was the last but one, but Oswald was undismayed, whatever Denny may have been. He lighted it and looked hastily round. There was a door.

      "Bang on that door—over there, silly!" he cried, in cheering accents, to his trusty lieutenant; "behind that thing that looks like a chevaux de frize."

      Denny had never been to Woolwich, and while Oswald was explaining what a chevaux de frize is, the match burnt his fingers almost to the bone, and he had to feel his way to the door and hammer on it yourself.

      The blows of the others from the other side were deafening.

      All was saved.

      It was the right door.

      "Go and ask for candles and matches," shouted the brave Oswald. "Tell them there are all sorts of things in here—a chevaux de frize of chair-legs, and——"

      "A shovel of what?" asked Dicky's voice hollowly from the other side of the door.

      "Freeze," shouted Denny. "I don't know what it means, but do get a candle and make them unbarricade the door. I don't want to go back the way we came." He said something about Oswald's boots that he was sorry for afterwards, so I will not repeat it, and I don't think the others heard, because of the noise the barrels made while they were being climbed over.

      This noise, however, was like balmy zephyrs compared to the noise the barrels insisted on making when Dicky had collected some grown-ups and the barrels were being rolled away. During this thunder-like interval Denny and Oswald were all the time in the pitch dark. They had lighted their last match, and by its flickering gleam we saw a long, large mangle.

      "It's like a double coffin," said Oswald, as the match went out. "You can take my arm if you like, Dentist."

      The Dentist did—and then afterwards he said he only did it because he thought Oswald was frightened of the dark.

      "It's only for a little while," said Oswald in the pauses of the barrel-thunder, "and I once read about two brothers confined for life in a cage so constructed that the unfortunate prisoners could neither sit, lie, nor stand in comfort. We can do all those things."

      "Yes," said Denny; "but I'd rather keep on standing if it's the same to you, Oswald. I don't like spiders—not much, that is."

      "You are right," said Oswald with affable gentleness; "and there might be toads perhaps in a vault like this—or serpents guarding the treasure like in the Cold Lairs. But of course they couldn't have cobras in England. They'd have to put up with vipers, I suppose."

      Denny shivered, and Oswald could feel him stand first on one leg and then on the other.

      "I wish I could stand on neither of my legs for a bit," he said, but Oswald answered firmly that this could not be.

      And then the door opened with a crack-crash, and we saw lights and faces through it, and something fell from the top of the door that Oswald really did think for one awful instant was a hideous mass of writhing serpents put there to guard the entrance.

      "Like a sort of live booby-trap," he explained; "just the sort of thing a magician or a witch would have thought of doing."

      But it was only dust and cobwebs—a thick, damp mat of them.

      Then the others surged in, in light-hearted misunderstanding of the perils Oswald had led Denny into—I mean through, with Mr. Red House and another gentleman, and loud voices and candles that dripped all over everybody's hands, as well as their clothes, and the solitary confinement of the gallant Oswald was at an end. Denny's solitary confinement was at an end, too—and he was now able to stand on both legs and to let go the arm of his leader who was so full of fortitude.

      "This is a find," said the pleased voice of Mr. Red House. "Do you know, we've been in this house six whole months and a bit, and we never thought of there being a door here."

      "Perhaps you don't often play 'King of the Castle,'" said Dora politely; "it is rather a rough game, I always think."

      "Well, curiously enough, we never have," said Mr. Red House, beginning to lift out the chairs, in which avocation we all helped, of course.

      "Nansen is nothing to you! You ought to have a medal for daring explorations," said the other gentleman, but nobody gave us one, and, of course, we did not want any reward for doing our duty, however tight and cobwebby.

      The cellars proved to be well stocked with spiders and old furniture, but no toads or snakes, which few, if any, regretted. Snakes are outcasts from human affection. Oswald pities them, of course.

      There was a great lumpish thing in four parts that Mr. Red House said was a press, and a ripping settle—besides the chairs, and some carved wood that Mr. Red House and his friend made out to be part of an old four-post bed. There was also a wooden thing like a box with another box on it at one end, and H.O. said—

      "You could make a ripping rabbit-hutch out of that."

      Oswald thought so himself. But Mr. Red House said he had other uses for it, and would bring it up later.

      It took us all that was left of the afternoon to get the things up the stairs into the kitchen. It was hard work, but we know all about the dignity of labour. The general hated the things we had so enterprisingly discovered. I suppose she knew who would have to clean them, but Mrs. Red House was awfully pleased and said we were dears.

      We were not very clean dears by the time our work was done, and when the other gentleman said, "Won't you all take a dish of tea under my humble roof?" the words "Like this?" were formed by more than one youthful voice.

      "Well, if you would be happier in a partially cleansed state?" said Mr. Red House. And Mrs. Red House, who is my idea of a feudal lady in a castle, said, "Oh, come along, let's go and partially clean ourselves. I'm dirtier than anybody, though I haven't explored a bit. I've often noticed that the more you admire things the more they come off on you!"

      So we all washed as much as we cared to, and went to tea at the gentleman's house, which was only a cottage, but very beautiful. He had been a war correspondent, and he knew a great many things, besides having books and books of pictures.

      It was a splendid party.

      We thanked Mrs. R.H. and everybody when it was time to go, and she kissed the girls and the little boys, and then she put her head on one side and looked at Oswald and said, "I suppose you're too old?"

      Oswald did not like to say he was not. If kissed at all he would prefer it being СКАЧАТЬ