Phillips waited a little longer to give the denizens of the warren time to recover from their fright at the discharge of the gun, then he resumed his stealthy advance. Right ahead were the ruins of the old oratory. The Scout remembered that there was a fairly open expanse on the other side where he had often seen the rabbits frisking in the sunshine. "I'll take cover in the ruins and see if I cannot get in a double-barrelled shot," he said to himself, and with that object in view he crept up the slope on which the ruins stood. The remains of the chapelry consisted of three roofless walls with open lancet windows. On the west side the masonry had been removed, several masses of stone lying in disorder all down the slope. The walls were destitute of foliage, not even so much as a tendril of ivy softening the hard effects of the dark grey stone. Since by entering the building on the west side the Scout would have to run the risk of being observed, Phillips decided to crawl through one of the lancet windows, cross the dust-covered floor, and take up a favourable position at the window looking northward. The opening was narrow. Phillips just unloaded his gun, passed the weapon through, and then began to squeeze between the stonework. As he did so he was surprised to see a portion of the floor almost underneath that window give an upward motion. The dust rose, and as the slab fell there was a well-defined trace of the joint in the stonework. Again the slab trembled: it was being forced up from beneath. The Scout took in the situation at a glance. Quickly grasping his gun, he dragged it through the window and propped it against the outside wall, so that it could not be seen from within. Then removing his hat, he peered between two displaced stones, and waited. He had not long to wait. With a lusty heave the stone rose and toppled backwards, disclosing a circular cavity of about two feet in diameter. Out of the hole appeared the head and shoulders of a man. Placing his hands on the edge of the aperture, the fellow raised himself clear of the hole and stood blinking in the strong sunlight. "Golly! It's that chap Tassh. Whatever is his little game," thought Phillips. As soon as his eyes grew accustomed to the daylight, Tassh replaced the stone, scattered dust over it, and stole to one of the windows in the opposite wall to the one behind which the Scout was crouching. Looking in the direction of the camp, Tassh muttered an inaudible exclamation, then bending low he crept across the fairly open space and gained the shelter of the gorge. Here he broke into a run, and was soon lost to sight as he made off in the direction of the Tea Caves. "Atherton was right: that chap's up to mischief, I'll be bound," thought Phillips. "Well, it's not much use my following him alone. He's making for the caves we explored the other day. I'll rout out Simpson and the 'Wolves,' and we can decide what's to be done."