“Just about the same. You would hardly know one set from the other, as I told you, except for the stone that records the murder. Perhaps we had better light the lantern now?” “By all means. I don't half like that story of the lady that walks on the water. It does seem so gashly and unchristian altogether. Not that I have any fear of ghosts--not likely, for I have never even seen one.” “I have,” said Gunner Bob, in a deep voice, which made them all glance through the ivy. “I have, and a fearful one it were.” “Don't be a fool, Bob,” the Captain whispered; “we don't want to hear about that now. Allow me to carry the lantern, Mr. Carne; it throws such shadows from the way you hold it. Why, surely, this is where we were before!” “You might easily fancy so,” Carne answered, smiling, “especially with a mind at all excited--” “My mind is not excited, sir; not at all excited; but as calm as it ever was in all its life.” “Then two things will show you that these are the other vaults. The arch is on your left hand, instead of on your right”--he had brought them in now from the other end of the passage--“and this entrance, as you see, has a door in it, which the other had not. Perhaps the door is to keep the ghost in”--his laugh sounded hollow, and like a mocking challenge along the dark roof--“for this is the part she is supposed to walk in. But so much for the door! The money-lenders have not left us a door that will stand a good kick. You may find our old doors in Wardour Street.” As he spoke, he set foot against the makeshift door, and away it went, as he had predicted. Crashing on the steps as it fell, it turned over, and a great splash arose at the bottom. “Why, bless my heart, there is a flood of water there!” cried Stubbard, peeping timidly down the steps, on which (if the light had been clear, and that of his mind in the same condition) he might have seen the marks of his own boots. “A flood of water, perhaps six feet deep! I could scarcely have believed, but for that and the door, that these were not the very vaults that we have examined. But what business has the water there?” “No business at all, any more than we have,” Carne answered, with some rudeness, for it did not suit him to encourage too warmly the friendship of Captain Stubbard; “but I told you that the place becomes covered with water whenever the ghost intends to walk. Probably there is not more than a foot of water”--there was in fact about three inches--“and as you are bound to carry out your duty--” “My dear sir, I am satisfied, perfectly satisfied. Who could keep gunpowder under water, or even in a flooded cellar? I shall have the greatest pleasure in reporting that I searched Carne Castle--not of course suspiciously, but narrowly, as we are bound to do, in execution of our warrant--”