"There are seven of them somewhere," his uncle replied, in a hoarse undertone--"one, they say, from Broomleys, but that's too far, and the air would be too foul, and maybe it don't lead where I want it to. I've made air-holes along this, David. You take the torch, and you make your way. There's nothing to stop you. It's dry--I've sprinkled sand in places--and there's air, too. When you come to the end there's a door. Four nights it took me to move that door. It's wide open now. Then you mount a little flight of stairs. They go round and round, and at the top there's a little stone landing. You'll see before you what seems to be blank wall. You press your palms on it--so--and soon you find an iron handle. It'll turn easy--I've oiled it well--and you step right into the room." "What room?" David demanded, in bewilderment. The old man's fingers clutched his arm. "Into the bedchamber of the Lady Letitia Mandeleys!" he proclaimed triumphantly. "Keep your voice low, boy. Remember we are out of doors." "Into the--! Are you mad, uncle?" David muttered, catching at his voice as though it were some loose quality that had escaped from him. "There's never a saner man in this county," was the fierce reply. "It's what I've worked for. It's the worst blow I can deal his pride. Oh, I know she is a haughty lady! You'll step into her chamber, and she'll see you, and she'll shriek for her servants, but--but, David," he added, leaning forward, "they'll find you there--they'll find you there! The Marquis--he'll be told. The nephew of Richard Vont will be found in his daughter's chamber! There'll be explanations enough, but those things stick." David suddenly found himself laughing like a madman. "Uncle," he cried, "for God's sake--for Heaven's sake, listen to me. This is the maddest scheme that ever entered into any one's head. I should be treated simply like a common burglar. I should have no excuse to offer, nothing to say. I should be thrown out of the house, and there isn't a human being breathing who'd think the worse of the Lady Letitia. You don't know what she's like! She's wonderful! She's--" "I'll not argue with you, boy," Vont interrupted doggedly. "You think I know nothing of the world and its ways, of the tale-bearing and the story-telling that goes on, women backbiting each other, men grasping even at shadows for a sensation. You'll do your job, David, you'll keep your oath, and from to-night you'll stand free of me. There'll be no more. You can lift your head again after you've crossed that threshold. Make what excuse you like--come back, if you will, like a frightened hare after they've found you there--but you'll have stood in her bedchamber!" David shivered like a man in a fever. He was beginning to realise that this was no nightmare--that the wild-eyed man by his side was in sober and ghastly earnest.