“Be very careful how you use this,” he called. “The men are working from above and you may have a fall unless you take the greatest care.” But he was talking to the air. Harry had gone and it was Leslie who answered him. “How long will you be, Dick?” she asked. “I don’t know, my dear. A few hours, not longer. Are you all right?” A little hesitation. “Yes, I’m all right.” “Is Harry?” A longer pause. “I think so. Is it possible to send something down that he could take?” Earlier in the evening Dick had tried to pass the end of a thin rubber tube to the imprisoned pair, but the attempt had been futile. “I’ll try,” he said, and went in search of one of the two doctors who had been summoned. From him he obtained two small brown pellets, and these, wrapped in paper and weighted, were dropped into the wishing well. “Thank you,” said her low voice. “I don’t know how I can use them, and for the moment he is very busy.” LXIV There was no question as to Harry’s activity. He had rolled a heavy boulder from the débris in the passage and, placing it in the centre of the floor, he could reach the stone roof, which was in six petal-shaped sectors. The lens of his lamp had been removed so that the light was diffused, and she had a better view of the room. There were little holes at intervals that looked as if they had once held hat-pegs, though why anybody should come into these depths to hang up his hat, she could not imagine. And then the real value of this peculiar chamber occurred to her. She found against the wall a long, rusty hook, so thin that she could break it. This had been the meat storeroom of the Abbey, the mediæval equivalent to a refrigerator. The atmosphere was deathly cold. It seemed a very long way from the Abbey, but in reality it was not more than a hundred and fifty yards. The old monks had found this cavern, had dressed and strengthened it, had lined and converted it to their own use. That explained why this chamber, so far distant from the main building, had received the ancient architects’ attention. Harry was in his shirt sleeves, which were rolled up, revealing his thin but sinewy arms. He had managed to get the claw of the crowbar between two of the stones, and was working at them gradually, talking the while to himself in an undertone. Her anxiety increased. The paroxysm, when it came, would be short, but what would be the end of it? Her mouth went dry and she felt for the knife she had put in her pocket and stealthily opening the blade, thrust it through the lining to keep it in place. Presently Harry paused, wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his arm, and looked down at her. His horn-rimmed spectacles had slipped down his nose and he stopped to adjust them. “Dick has no intention whatever of rescuing us. I think that you ought to know that.” “I’m sure you’re mistaken, Harry,” she said. But opposition only made him worse and he snapped down at her.