"
"Perhaps this is it, father," said Moxy.
"If it be," answered his father with bitterness, "we'll find it open,
I'll be bound."
The boy's hand had come upon a latch; he lifted it, and pushed.
"Father," he cried with a gasp, "_it is open_!"
"Get in then," said his father roughly, giving him a push with his foot.
"I daren't. It's so dark!" he answered.
"Here, you come an' take the Sarpint," returned the father, with faintly
reviving hope, "an' I'll see what sort of a place it is. If it's any
place at all, it's better than bein' i' the air all night at this
freezin' time!"
So saying he gave Moxy to his bigger brother and went to learn what kind
of a place they had got to. Ready as he had been a moment before for the
grave, he was careful in stepping into the unknown dark. Feeling with
foot and hand, he went in. He trod upon an earthen floor, and the place
had a musty smell: it might be a church vault, he thought. In and in he
went, with sliding foot on the soundless floor, and sliding hand along
the cold wall--on and on, round two corners, past a closed door, and
back to that by which he had entered, where, as at the grave's mouth,
sat his family in sad silence, waiting his return.
Pages:
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471