Read Online Footsteps in the Dark by Georgette Heyer - Free Book Online
Authors: Georgette Heyer
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into another, so that the place was something of a labyrinth. The knocking sounded distinctly now, echoing through the empty cellars. Charles held his torch lowered, so that the circle of light was thrown barely a yard in front of him.
Suddenly the knocking ceased, and at once both men stood still, waiting for some sound to guide them.
Ahead of them, where the passage ended, something moved. Charles flashed his torch upwards, and for a brief instant he and Peter caught a glimpse of a vague figure. Then, as though it had melted into the wall, it was gone, and a wail as of a soul in torment seemed to fill the entire place.
The sweat broke out on both men's foreheads, and for a second neither could move for sheer horror. Then Charles pulled himself together and dashed forward, shouting to Peter to follow.
"My God, what was it?" Peter gasped.
"The groan we've all heard, of course. Damn it, he can't have got away!"
But the place where the figure had stood was quite empty. An embrasure in the wall seemed to mark the spot where they had seen it, yet if the apparent melting into the wall had been no more than a drawing back into this niche that could not solve the complete disappearance of the figure.
The two men stared at one another. Charles passed the back of his hand across his forehead. "But - but I saw it!" he stammered.
"So did I," Peter said roughly. "Good God, it can't be… This is getting a bit too weird to be pleasant. Look here… Damn it, that was no ghost. There must be a secret way through the wall." His torch played over the wall. It was built of great stone slabs each about four foot square. He began to feel them in turn. "We must be under the terrace," he said. "Gosh, don't you see? We're standing on the level of the ground here!" One of the blocks gave slightly under the thrust of his hand. "Got it!" he panted, and set his shoulder to it. It swung slowly outward, turning on some hidden pivot, and as it moved that hideous wail once more rent the stillness.
"So that's it, is it?" Charles said grimly. "Well, I don't mind telling you that I'm damned glad we've solved the origin of that ghastly noise." He squeezed through the opening in Peter's wake, and found himself, as Peter had prophesied, in the garden directly beneath the terrace. There was no sign of anyone amongst the shrubs near at hand, and it was obviously useless to search the grounds. After a moment both men slipped back into the cellar, and pushed the stone into place again.
"Might as well have a look round to see what that chap was after," Peter said. "Why the banging? Is he looking for a hollow wall, do you suppose? Dash it, I rejected hidden treasure as altogether too far-fetched, but it begins to look remarkably like it!"
"Personally I don't think we shall find anything," Charles answered. "Still, we can try. What a maze the place is!"
Together they explored all the cellars, but Charles was right, and there was nothing to be seen. Deciding that their nocturnal visitor would hardly attempt another entrance now that his way of ingress had been discovered, they made their way up the stairs again.
As they crossed the hall towards the library door a glimmer of light shone on the landing above, and Margaret's voice called softly: "Peter."
"Hullo!" Peter responded.
"Thank goodness!" breathed his sister, and came cautiously down to join him. In the lamplight her face looked rather pale, and her eyes very big and scared. "That awful groan woke me," she said. "I heard it twice, and called to you, Peter. Then when you didn't answer I went into your room and saw the bed hadn't been slept in. I got the most horrible fright."
"Don't make a row. Come into the library," Peter commanded. "You didn't wake Celia, did you?"
"No, I guessed you and Charles had staged something. Did you hear the groan? What have you been doing?"
"We not only heard it, but on two occasions we caused it," Peter said, and proceeded to tell her briefly all that had
Suddenly the knocking ceased, and at once both men stood still, waiting for some sound to guide them.
Ahead of them, where the passage ended, something moved. Charles flashed his torch upwards, and for a brief instant he and Peter caught a glimpse of a vague figure. Then, as though it had melted into the wall, it was gone, and a wail as of a soul in torment seemed to fill the entire place.
The sweat broke out on both men's foreheads, and for a second neither could move for sheer horror. Then Charles pulled himself together and dashed forward, shouting to Peter to follow.
"My God, what was it?" Peter gasped.
"The groan we've all heard, of course. Damn it, he can't have got away!"
But the place where the figure had stood was quite empty. An embrasure in the wall seemed to mark the spot where they had seen it, yet if the apparent melting into the wall had been no more than a drawing back into this niche that could not solve the complete disappearance of the figure.
The two men stared at one another. Charles passed the back of his hand across his forehead. "But - but I saw it!" he stammered.
"So did I," Peter said roughly. "Good God, it can't be… This is getting a bit too weird to be pleasant. Look here… Damn it, that was no ghost. There must be a secret way through the wall." His torch played over the wall. It was built of great stone slabs each about four foot square. He began to feel them in turn. "We must be under the terrace," he said. "Gosh, don't you see? We're standing on the level of the ground here!" One of the blocks gave slightly under the thrust of his hand. "Got it!" he panted, and set his shoulder to it. It swung slowly outward, turning on some hidden pivot, and as it moved that hideous wail once more rent the stillness.
"So that's it, is it?" Charles said grimly. "Well, I don't mind telling you that I'm damned glad we've solved the origin of that ghastly noise." He squeezed through the opening in Peter's wake, and found himself, as Peter had prophesied, in the garden directly beneath the terrace. There was no sign of anyone amongst the shrubs near at hand, and it was obviously useless to search the grounds. After a moment both men slipped back into the cellar, and pushed the stone into place again.
"Might as well have a look round to see what that chap was after," Peter said. "Why the banging? Is he looking for a hollow wall, do you suppose? Dash it, I rejected hidden treasure as altogether too far-fetched, but it begins to look remarkably like it!"
"Personally I don't think we shall find anything," Charles answered. "Still, we can try. What a maze the place is!"
Together they explored all the cellars, but Charles was right, and there was nothing to be seen. Deciding that their nocturnal visitor would hardly attempt another entrance now that his way of ingress had been discovered, they made their way up the stairs again.
As they crossed the hall towards the library door a glimmer of light shone on the landing above, and Margaret's voice called softly: "Peter."
"Hullo!" Peter responded.
"Thank goodness!" breathed his sister, and came cautiously down to join him. In the lamplight her face looked rather pale, and her eyes very big and scared. "That awful groan woke me," she said. "I heard it twice, and called to you, Peter. Then when you didn't answer I went into your room and saw the bed hadn't been slept in. I got the most horrible fright."
"Don't make a row. Come into the library," Peter commanded. "You didn't wake Celia, did you?"
"No, I guessed you and Charles had staged something. Did you hear the groan? What have you been doing?"
"We not only heard it, but on two occasions we caused it," Peter said, and proceeded to tell her briefly all that had
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