It belonged to some men who had been recently employed in
cutting boughs off such of the oaks that needed attention.
They undid the rope and let the end down to see how deep the pit was.
When they felt that the end lay upon the floor they pulled it up. The
depth from the hole to the bottom of the pit appeared to be about
sixteen feet or a trifle more.
Harold took the iron crow, and having made the rope fast to it fixed
the bar across the mouth of the aperture. Then he doubled the rope,
tied some knots in it, and let it fall into the pit, preparatory to
climbing down it.
But George was too quick for him. Forgetting his doubts as to the
wisdom of groping about Dead Man's Mount at night, in the ardour of
his burning curiosity he took the dark lantern, and holding it with
his teeth passed his body through the hole in the masonry, and
cautiously slid down the rope.
"Are you all right?" asked Harold in a voice tremulous with
excitement, for was not his life's fortune trembling on the turn?
"Yes," answered George doubtfully. Harold looking down could see that
he was holding the lantern above his head and staring at something
very hard.
Next moment a howl of terror echoed up from the pit, the lantern was
dropped upon the ground and the rope began to be agitated with the
utmost violence.
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