This adjustment was agreed upon, and they found the billiard-room unoccupied. It seemed, however, to show signs of recent habitation, for the dustcloth had been taken off the table, the balls were out, and a cue laid across one corner as if to indicate that they were not to be disturbed. But this was voted accidental: the red was on spot, and the plain ball spotted in balk; spot was in balk, obviously as the result of a deliberate miss. And a glance at the scoreboard showed that spot had not scored, while plain had scored one from spot’s miss. In fact, it appeared that two people had started a game, and interrupted it after the first stroke, a miss in balk.
“Come on,” said Gordon: “nobody can want to have those balls left undisturbed.” And the two proceeded to play, with a good deal of noisy conversation, while Carmichael investigated the walls.
“You see,” he said, “the same old pattern of cornice in the panelling. With any luck the spring will be the same.” And, sure enough, before ten minutes were up he had identified the spring.
“That settles it,” said Gordon. “We’ll get Marryatt, and he and Carmichael can keep watch outside the billiard-room door. Reeves and I will go down the passage from upstairs, with an electric torch: my experience of fighting in the dark is that the man who has got the electric torch, so that he can see and can’t be seen, has got the upper hand from the start.”
Marryatt was found without difficulty, and consented to mount guard after a minimum of explanation. Carmichael was provided with a revolver, chiefly ad terrorem, for he had no idea how to use it; Marryatt, true to medieval principle, was only armed with a niblick. Gordon took another revolver and an electric torch, and went back again with Reeves to the upper opening. When the panel had been pushed back, it needed but a little fumbling on the inner side to discover a latch. When this was lifted, they found that the wall opposite them yielded to the touch, and a whole section of the panelling turned on a vertical axis, the right side of it coming outwards into the room, the left vanishing into the passage. The work was of miraculous fineness, and when they shut the door again they had difficulty in seeing where the cracks came in the morticing of the old beams.
“Those priests were well hidden,” said Gordon. “I imagine the people who hunted them out simply broke down all this stuff with hatchets. But the Secretary could hardly approve of that. Otherwise, I suppose we’re very much in the position of the Sheriff’s men.”
“And the man inside is very much in the position of the priest.”
“Except for one circumstance.”
“Namely?”
“Guilt,” said Gordon.
“Well, what happens next?”
“A little Dutch courage.” Gordon helped himself to a liberal glass of neat whisky. “If I were Carmichael, you would have a little lecture at this point on the origin of the phrase ‘Dutch courage.’ Dating, you see, my dear Reeves, from the seventeenth century, the last time when we were seriously at war with the Dutch. Meanwhile, I wish we were still at war with the Germans, and this were a German dugout. Because then we should simply stand at the entrance with a bomb and tell them to come out. But there again I suppose the Secretary wouldn’t be best pleased—really, he’s becoming a nuisance, that Secretary.”
“You still haven’t told me how we’re going to proceed.”
“We proceed with me in front and you behind. I have the revolver, you have the electric torch. You hold it at arm’s length, just in front of my shoulder. That ought to puzzle the other man if it comes to shooting. Conversation will be conducted in a low tone of voice. If we find nobody there, we emerge at the billiard-room end, and tell Carmichael he’s a fool.”
“Good. I’m not really certain, when all’s said and done, that I really want to meet this man. Curiosity has its limits, I find.”
“Well, are you ready? Flash the light into the passage as soon as I open the door. Then let me go in first, and follow up close.”
The passage was startlingly high, having the whole height of the outer room. It was so narrow that you instinctively edged sideways along it, though there was just room to walk breast-forward and avoid contact with the cobweb-matted walls. It began to descend almost immediately, by a series of wooden steps; and by a rough calculation Gordon made out that they were below the level of Reeves’ floor by the time they had reached the parallel of Reeves’ inner wall. At this point they had to stoop, a circumstance which rather confused their plan of campaign; and it was clear that this part of the hiding-place was substracted, not from the thickness of the walls but from the depth of the floor. There was a sharp turn to the right, which showed that they were now following the course of the passage which led past Reeves’ room. The dust on the floor of the passage was thick and fine, easily showing the traces of confused, but recent, human footprints.
Quite suddenly the passage opened out to the left, and at the same time a very meagre ray of light from outside attracted their attention. They found a chamber some seven feet square, with a tiny squint to let in the light, from some unnoticeable chink in the brickwork of the outer wall. The height of this chamber was still such that a full-grown man could not stand up without stooping, but the presence of light and air made it contrast agreeably with the passage outside. Some attempt, too, had been made to sweep the floor, the dust being all brushed
