10 In the old empty house

CHAPTER TEN In the old empty house THE DOOR wasn't locked. It opened quietly. The sounds became loud at once. Somebody was in there, snoring! The same thought came to both boys at once. It must be the caretaker! Quietly Peter looked in. Moonlight filled the room. On a low, untidy bed lay the old caretaker, not even undressed! He looked dirty and shabby, and he was snoring as he slept. Peter turned to go– and his torch suddenly knocked against the door and fell with a crash to the floor. He stood petrified, but the old man didn't stir. Then Peter remembered how deaf he was! Thank goodness– he hadn't even heard the

noise! He shut the door quietly and the two boys stood out in the hall. Peter tried his torch to see if he had broken it. No, it was all right. Good. 'Now we'll go upstairs,' he whispered. 'You're not afraid, are you, Jack?' 'Not very,' said Jack. 'Just a bit. Come on.' They went up the stairs that creaked and cracked in a very tiresome manner. Up to the first floor with five or six rooms to peep into–

all as empty as one another. Then up to the top floor. 'We'll have to be careful now,' said Jack. He spoke in such a whisper that Peter could hardly hear him. 'These are the only rooms we haven't been into. The prisoner must be here somewhere.' All the doors were ajar! Well, then, how could there be a prisoner– unless he was tied up? The two boys looked into each room, half- scared in case they saw something horrid. But there was absolutely nothing there at all. The rooms were either dark and empty, or full of moonlight and nothing else. 'It's strange, isn't it?' whispered Jack. 'Honestly I don't understand it. Surely those noises did come from the house somewhere? Yet there's nothing and no one here except the old caretaker!' They stood there, wondered what to do next– and once more that far-away, muffled

squealing came on the night air, a kind of whinnying noise, followed by a series of curious thuds and crashes. 'There is a prisoner here somewhere– and he's knocking for help– and squealing too,' said Peter, forgetting to whisper. 'Somewhere downstairs. But we've looked everywhere.' Jack was making for the stairs. 'Come on– we must have missed a cupboard or something!' he called. Down they went, not caring now about the noise they made. They came to the kitchen. The noises had stopped again. Then the thudding began once more. Jack clutched Peter. 'I know where it's coming from– under our feet! There's a cellar there. That's where the prisoner is!'

'Look for the cellar door then,' said Peter. They found it at last, in a dark corner of the passage between kitchen and scullery. They turned the handle– and what a surprise– the door opened! 'It's not locked!' whispered Jack. 'Why doesn't the prisoner escape then?' Stone steps led downwards into the darkness. Peter flashed his torch down them. He called, in rather a shaky voice: 'Who's there? Who is it down there?' There was no answer at all. The boys listened with straining ears. They could distinctly hear the sound of very heavy

breathing, loud and harsh. 'We can hear you breathing!' called Jack. 'Do tell us who you are. We've come to rescue you.' Still no reply. This was dreadful. Both boys were really scared. They didn't dare to go down the steps. Their legs simply refused to move downwards. Yet it seemed very cowardly to go back into the passage again. And then another sound came to them– the sound of low voices somewhere! Then came the sound of a key being turned in a lock– and a door being opened! Jack clutched Peter in a panic. 'It's those men I heard last night. They're back again. Quick– we must hide before they find us here.' The two boys, strange little figures in white, stood for a moment, not knowing where to go. Then Peter stripped off his white sheet and cap. 'Take yours off, too,' he whispered to