That disposed of the tunnel once and for all, for the only way of getting into the clock-tower was through the little tower door. For the next few weeks we dared do nothing, on account of the very strict watch which was kept. But as no one escaped during the next month the watchfulness of the guards gradually relaxed again; so we started on a new enterprise which promised success. Through the castle chapel, which was about twenty yards distant from the scene of our former labours there must surely be some way of getting to the tower. No sooner said than done. After the evening round, I and a friend got out of bed. At the head of our beds we put dark bundles, which in the bad light might be mistaken for our heads. Then we carefully felt our way along staircases and passages down to the chapel. Under a seat on one side of the altar we carefully loosened one of the broad floor-boards, and climbed down through the opening. At first we thought we could not find bottom, for I, the taller of the two, though hanging on to the plank only by my finger-tips, could feel nothing with my toes. We boldly struck a match, and then found that we were right over a shaft. So we tried our luck at another spot, and at last succeeded. The depth under the front portion of the chapel was so small that it was only by bending low that we could stand in it. With the help of matches we felt our way forward between the old stone coffins of the long-dead Barons Hastings. A heavy, mouldy smell, which constantly made us cough, pervaded the crypt. Occasionally it became so strong that we debated whether we should retreat, for the echo of our coughing resounded from all the walls and we feared that the night-patrol might discover us. It was so uncannily still that we could hear the ticking of our watches. Now and then something raced noiselessly over our feet in the dark. Rats were apparently plentiful here. Involuntarily I thought of a story which I had read as a child. Two rascals who in the dead of night had broken into the cellar of an old castle suddenly found themselves surrounded by coffins, from which the spirits of the departed rose just as the pair were about to steal the hoard of gold. They froze with fear, and were found next morning dead in the cellar. Although I don't believe in ghosts, I must confess that for a moment I felt uncomfortable. Inch by inch we advanced. The farther we went the more icy became the temperature. At last we arrived at a massive stone wall. We felt and examined the moist stones and the crumbling mortar in between. Nothing but basalt-blocks three feet square. Who could tell but that one of these stones covered the entrance to the tunnel? Surely we should be able to find the entrance.