The Secret Room

I

A FAMILY SECRET

Eric Stone lived in Westminster with his aunt, for he had no mother or

father. He belonged to a Westminster Pack, but he spent all his holidays

at his grandfather's house--a lovely old castle in Wales. Its

weather-beaten walls reached out very near to the craggy cliffs, where

the sea dashed up, white and foamy. Of course Eric longed for his

holidays, and one day it struck him how jolly it would be to take three

of the other Cubs with him. So he got leave from his grandfather, Sir

David Stone, and then he invited the boys. He did not choose the ones he

liked best, but the three chaps who would be likely to have the dullest

holiday, and no fun at Christmas. That is how Donald Ford, number six of

the Whites, came to have the strange adventure this story is about.

. . . . . . . .

It was Christmas Eve. The four Cubs had decorated the castle with holly

and mistletoe. Now they were curled up on the great bearskin rug in the

hall, before a blazing log fire. The dark winter afternoon had closed

in, but the lamps were not yet lighted. Everything looked very

mysterious; the fire-light danced in the dark corners, gleaming on the

shining suits of armour and oak-panelled walls.

"Tell us a ghost story," said one of the Cubs. So Eric told them all the

stories he knew about the castle, and the knights who had lived in it

hundreds of years ago. "And now," he said, "I'll tell you something

which is not just a story, but is quite true. Somewhere in this castle

there is a _secret room_. You know in olden days people used to hide in

secret rooms, away from their enemies. Well, there's one here, and it

was always kept very secret: only the head of the family knew where it

was. It opened by a spring, hidden in the oak panelling. But now nobody

knows where it is; the secret has been quite lost for four hundred

years, because they found it was very, very unlucky for any one to open

the door or go in; it always meant a tragedy, or great shame on the

family. I should love to find the room and so would grandfather. Of

course it's all rot about its being unlucky."

"Oh," cried the Cubs, "how awfully exciting! Do let's hunt for it."

"Yes," agreed Eric, "we will, to-morrow. There's one side of the castle

we don't use, because it is unsafe and may fall to ruins any day. The

servants say that's where the secret room is. They wouldn't go there

after dark for anything. In fact they say they hear footsteps there in

the night."

At this moment there were steps in the hall and voices, and Eric's

grandfather came in accompanied by his adopted son, William Mendel, a

gloomy-looking man. Sir David Stone was a tall, soldierly looking old

man, and devoted to Eric, for Eric's father (his only son) had been

killed in the War. William Mendel was the son of a very old friend of

his, who had died when William was quite a boy. Eric and the Cubs

disliked "Uncle William," for he never lost an opportunity of snubbing

them. They called him "the Professor" behind his back. He had rather

long black hair, and a sullen, yellowish face. He wore large, round

spectacles, and stooped badly. He had a nasty habit of peering about him

in a suspicious manner.

"Hullo, kiddies!" said old Sir David, "what are you all doing in the

dark?"

"I've been telling them about the secret room, grandfather," said Eric;

"to-morrow we are going to have a hunt for it."

Sir David laughed. "All right," he said, "and a golden sovereign for the

one who finds it--that's a bargain."

The Cubs were delighted.

But Uncle William was looking very cross. "I shouldn't have thought you

would have wanted to find the secret room, Eric," he said with a sneer.

"You know it is haunted, and brings trouble to whoever finds it."

Old Sir David turned in surprise. "My dear William," he said, "you don't

mean to say you believe in that old wives' tale?"

William Mendel laughed an ugly laugh. "Do you take me for a fool,

father?" he said. "I was only trying to frighten the children from going

to the left wing of the castle. You know how exceedingly dangerous it

is."

"I don't believe it's dangerous," said Sir David.

"Well, sir," retorted William, "there will be an accident one day if you

let people walk about in those rickety passages."

Sir David shrugged his shoulders. It was not the first argument he had

had with his adopted son about the left wing of the castle.

The Cubs were full of ideas about the secret room, and how to find it

and earn the sovereign, as they went to bed that night.

II

AN ENEMY AT HAND

Christmas had passed, one long succession of delights, starting with a

most generous Santa Claus and ending with a New Year's party. Never had

the four Cubs had such a Christmas! But during all this time they had

forgotten the secret room. It was not until ten days later that the

intended search took place. Tired and disappointed, the Cubs had come

down to tea, and it was then that Uncle William had made his bright

suggestion.

"There's something more worth hunting for in this neighbourhood than an

old secret room," he said, "and you Cubs are just the people to find

it."

"What's that, sir?" asked the Cubs, eagerly.

"Why, a _German spy_!" said Uncle William, with a grin. "And if you

catch him I will give you each a golden sovereign--that's a bargain!"

The Cubs were thrilled.

"We'll go out and look for him first thing to-morrow morning," said

Eric, cheerfully. But his grandfather was looking very grave.

"It is really a very serious matter," he said, turning to William

Mendel. "They say there's an enemy submarine in the Irish Sea. Another

liner was sunk this morning, only a few miles from here. That's the

eighth ship they've got near here in the last few weeks. I was speaking

to the police, this morning, who say they suspect a base somewhere, at

which this boat gets its supply of petrol. Otherwise it could not

possibly remain so long in enemy waters. But it must be an

extraordinarily clever arrangement, when one considers how well the

coast is guarded. I don't know what can have led them to suspect the

spy's presence in this neighbourhood."

"No," said William Mendel, "That's what struck me. There would seem to

be no hiding-place for him. And as to a base for providing a submarine

with petrol about these rocky shores--well, that's out of the question."

"Quite," agreed Sir David, "quite."

But the spy had given the Cubs an object in life--they were hot on his

tracks.

. . . . . . . .

Donald Ford, the Cub who had asked Eric to tell them ghost stories on

Christmas Eve, had not given up hope of finding the secret room. In

fact, while the others were full of the spy, he still thought most of

the secret room. He was not a very strong boy, and often, when the

others went out in the frosty air, dashing over the bleak, stony hill

through a long afternoon, he would choose to stay in, and sit by the log

fire, dreaming, or reading tales of the good old days of knights and

dragons and tournaments. It was on an afternoon like this that he

discovered the old library.

Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, row upon row. Old brown

leather bindings they had, and gold lettering. They smelt very ancient,

and were very, very dusty. But Donald loved to take them down, and sit

on the floor, looking at their quaint pictures. And it was one day,

sitting here in the library, that he made a very wonderful discovery

which led to the strange adventure that befell him.

He had found an old book full of pictures of knights and ladies and

people going hawking, dressed in curious, old-fashioned clothes. On the

fly-leaf of the book was written in a big, childish hand, "Eric Stone,

His Booke, 1640."

Donald turned the old musty pages with interest. So this book had

belonged to a boy just about three hundred years ago. As he turned the

pages a yellowish paper fluttered from between them, and fell on to the

floor. Donald picked it up and examined it. It was covered with writing

in the same round hand as there was on the fly-leaf. And this is what he

read:

"I, Eric Stone, have found and discovered a most strange thing. But for

fear of the ancient curse which brings dreadful mishap I have not told

any person. I will write it here for him to read, who doth find this

book. I have found the Secret Room. It is on the oak gallery, in the

left wing of the Castle. The manner of the hiding of the spring is this.

The oak panel is carved and ornamented with roses. The twenty-seventh

rose from the end of the passage contains a hidden spring. If the rose

be pushed upwards it will slide up, and also four inches of the panel.

Below this lies a picture, engraven upon steel, of a horse's head. If

his right eye be pressed the spring will be released, and a panel of the

wall will slide away. The room is empty."

Donald's heart beat fast as he read this message, come down to him

through the ages from another boy. So he had the clue to the secret! He

determined to lose no time in making the mysterious discovery, and ran

quickly up the stairs.

Pushing open a heavy baize door, he found himself in the deserted left

wing of the castle. The long corridors were bare and uncarpeted.

Mounting a creaking staircase, he found himself in the Oak Gallery. He

felt terribly alone and just a wee bit frightened; but, repeating the

Second Cub Law to himself, he ran to the end of the passage. He was

breathless with excitement. "One--two--three--four--five--" he counted

the carved roses, "25--26--27--" Here he paused and, following the

instructions on the paper, shoved the rose upwards. It moved away

easily, and, sure enough, revealed a metal plate engraved with a horse's

head! With a trembling finger Donald pressed the great round eye of the

horse. Instantly a wide piece of the oak panel slipped away, and,

looking through the opening, Donald saw before him a dim-lit room. He

was half afraid, but remembering he was a Cub he braced himself and

entered.

He found himself in a long and very narrow room. But it was not empty as

it had been when, three hundred years ago, another little boy had stood

in that same doorway and looked in. From floor to ceiling the room was

piled high with petrol cans, small tanks, and barrels. In one corner of

the room a small door stood open.

Thoughts whirled through Donald's brain. He had come on more than an

old, dead secret, here! Peering down through the little door into the

darkness he could just make out a flight of steps leading down in the

form of a spiral staircase, in the thickness of the wall.

III

"A PRIVATE CONVERSATION"

That little, low door; the dusty steps leading down into the unknown

darkness; the strange, musty smell--all this was too much for Donald. If

only Eric his Sixer were there, he would not be afraid. But alone!--no,

he dared not venture down. Turning round, he let himself out of the

secret room, and carefully closed the panel. Standing on the bare,

deserted landing, he looked about him. Was he dreaming? Had he somehow

walked into a fairy tale? The oak-panelled wall showed no signs, now, of

the secret lying behind it. Suddenly Donald felt a great longing to see

the other Cubs. Turning round, he ran as fast as he could along the

passages, and down the stairs. Once through the green baize door that

separated the left wing from the rest of the castle all was familiar and

reassuring. His footsteps no longer echoed as he ran; in fact, you could

not hear them as he stepped on the thick, soft carpet. It was warm,

here, and he could hear the friendly crackle of the great log fire down

in the hall. And then--welcome sound!--the front door opened and the

Cubs came in, talking cheerfully of their game out on the hills. Tea in

the old dining-room was a noisy meal: but Donald did not join in the

noise. He was thinking of the extraordinary thing he had discovered.

As soon as tea was over he called his Sixer aside.

"I say," he whispered, "I want to speak to you privately--very

privately."

"Right-o!" said Eric, "come on--we'll go into the library, no one will

hear us there."

And so, squatting on the floor, among the ancient books, Donald told his

friend the story of his strange discovery.

Eric's eyes grew bright, and his face flushed with excitement as he

heard all Donald had to tell. Here, at last, was a real adventure! It

had always been knights, or princes in fairy tales, or boys who ran away

and went to sea, who had splendid things like that happen to them. But

at last the chance had come his way!

. . . . . . . .

The next morning the two boys, white with excitement, stole along the

quiet passages of the left wing, hand in hand. They both carried

candles. Donald was armed with a stout stick, but his Sixer had insisted

on bringing his air-gun and an old dagger out of the armoury. "There'll

be some dirty work if we meet the spy!" said Eric (remembering how he

had heard his soldier cousin talk). "I say, have you got the coil of

rope all right? We'll set on him and take him prisoner. Then he'll be

tried, and shot at the Tower of London, I expect. And we shall be the

chief witnesses." He breathed hard through his clenched teeth: the

fighting blood of the Stones was up.

At last they came to the gallery where the walls were made of dark oak,

carved with a pattern of roses. Together the boys counted the roses in a

whisper, till they came to the twenty-seventh. Then Donald worked the

hidden spring, and the two Cubs stepped through the opening in the wall,

into the secret room. Closing the panel again from the inside, they

looked about them. The cans and barrels were piled up to the very

ceiling. "It's petrol, right enough," said Eric, examining the tins.

"And a good many hundred gallons, too. Not much '1640' about _this_! Oh,

the _beasts_! Fancy using Stone Castle as their base!" He gripped his

dagger fiercely, and looked about him. "Come on," he whispered a moment

later, as, having lighted his candle, he stepped through the low, dark

archway, and started to walk carefully down the spiral staircase.

It was giddy work, this progress round and round and down, in the

flickering yellow light of the candles. The boys' shadows looked like

strange, black monsters on the walls. At last they reached level ground,

and a long, dark passage opened before them. It smelt damp and earthy;

great drops of mildew stood on the stone walls. With their hearts

thumping with excitement the Cubs stepped forward.

They had walked what seemed to them some three or four hundred yards,

when Eric suddenly called, "Stop--look out!" The passage had ended

abruptly in another spiral staircase. Walking very carefully, the Cubs

began to descend. Down, down, down they wound in the darkness, till they

began to get giddy. Then, once more, they were on the level.

"Another passage!" said Donald. "Oh, Eric, I'm jolly glad I didn't go

without you!"

"Buck up," said his Sixer, cheerfully.

"What if we are outnumbered?" suggested Donald.

"Oh, we'll ... we'll ... we'll DO OUR BEST!" ended Eric, with a happy

thought.

An icy blast was blowing up the passage, and it felt very damp. There

was a soft, whispering sound ahead.

"It's the sea!" said Eric. "Come on."

They walked on for about ten yards, then turned a sharp corner.

"Daylight!" whispered the boys in one breath, drawing back into cover.

Sure enough, the light of day was streaming through a great jagged hole,

far above. There was no sound, save the murmur of the sea, so the Cubs

crept on, round the bend.

They were in a large cave, dimly lighted from the hole in the wall,

above them. They were standing on what seemed like a small quay. Before

them, black water moved softly, making a gurgling, sucking sound, as it

gushed forth and drew back through a long, low opening in the further

wall of the cave.

"We come right down to the sea, below the cliff," said Eric. "This must

be one of the old smugglers' caves. It's full of water because the

shore, down here, is never quite out of the water, you know."

The boys stole forward to the edge of the quay and peered down into the

black water, a foot or two below them.

"Look!" whispered Donald, suddenly, pointing downward. Moored to an iron

ring on the quay was a curious looking object. "It's just like a

submarine," said Eric, "only much, much too small. But I say," he added,

bending over the boat, "it _is_ a submarine--a tiny one! Now, I see it

all! They put heaps of petrol in this, and just one or perhaps two men

to work it; and then, when the tide is up, they dive, and get out of the

cave by that opening, ahead. The German submarine comes up as near as it

dares, and, at dead of night, this little boat gives it as much petrol

as it wants. By Jove--we _have_ found something!"

IV

FOOTSTEPS

As the two boys stood on the quay, looking down into the dark waters, a

faint sound reached their ears. "Hush!" whispered Donald quickly, "let's

blow out our candles and take cover."

"Don't blow them out," said Eric, "it would leave a smell--pinch the

wicks."

In a moment the boys were in total darkness, save for the faint glimmer

of daylight from the hole in the wall of the cave above their heads.

Moving very softly, they crept behind a projecting rock, and squatted

down, listening breathlessly.

[Illustration: "'It's just like a submarine,' said Eric, 'only much too

small. But I say,' he added, bending over the boat, 'it is a

submarine--a tiny one!'"]

Soft footsteps were descending the spiral staircase. It must be the spy!

What sort of man would he be? Would he carry a revolver? What would he

do to the Cubs if he saw them? Perhaps he would throw them into the

black water. Or possibly he might force them to go down into the little

submarine and take them out to the U-boat, and deport them to Germany.

Wild thoughts flew through their minds, and they wished themselves a

thousand miles away. Meanwhile, the footsteps were coming quickly along

the short passage. The Cubs held their breath, their hearts beating

wildly. A yellow beam of light fell on the quay, and in another moment a

man stepped up to the water's edge. The Cubs could see him through a

crack in the rocks. As he turned round they saw his face, and Eric

caught his breath in a gasp of surprise. It was William Mendel!

Opening the conning tower of the tiny submarine, he stepped down into

it. "Shall we shut him in?" whispered Donald, under his breath. Eric

shook his head. William Mendel had begun hammering, and making curious

noises, inside the boat. It was safe to whisper without being heard. "If

Uncle William is the spy," said Eric, "there's no need to take him

prisoner, and risk getting taken ourselves. If he doesn't know he's been

discovered, he will go on staying quite happily in the Castle. All we

have to do is to get back, tell grandfather the whole story, and have

him arrested. All the same I would love to take the old beast prisoner

myself! But we shall be serving our country better by having him taken

by the police, and made sure of. Think, if he knocked us down and

managed to escape!"

The traitor sounded very busy in the boat. He had started the engine.

"He's overhauling his engines," whispered Eric. "We better take this

chance of getting out." Very softly the two Cubs crept from their hiding

place, back along the passage, and up the winding stairs. With a sigh of

relief they emerged from the secret room, at last, and closed the

sliding panel behind them.

V

JENKINS

"Now, what shall we do?" said Donald.

Eric was deep in thought. "I was going to say--'Let's go to

grandfather's study'--but it's just struck me that Uncle William (ugh!

the beastly traitor!) is sure not to be working alone. He must have a

fellow spy helping him. I am not sure that we ought not to find out who

it is before we speak to grandfather. He's sure to get the wind up

frightfully, and so will the police, and, of course, the fellow spy will

just bunk, with all the plans."

"Yes," said Donald, "and--I believe I know who the other spy is."

"Who?" said Eric, turning on his companion.

"Jenkins," said Donald.

"By Jove, I believe you are right," said Eric. "Jenkins--Uncle William's

servant. I always hated that sneaking Jenkins, with his prying ways and

long nose. All the servants hate him, too. And now I come to think of

it, he was always having long, private talks with Uncle William. Let's

get after him."

The two boys crept downstairs, and through a door in the hall into the

servants' quarters. Whom should they run into but Jenkins,

himself--Jenkins, in a bowler hat, carrying a little black bag.

"Where are you going?" asked Eric.

"To London, Master Eric," said Jenkins, with his most innocent air.

"Why?"

"On business for Mr. Mendel. I mustn't stop, sir, or I shall miss my

train." He pushed past the boys towards the door.

Eric was in despair--what should he do? "Mr. Mendel's business," in

London was sure to be spy work. And if Jenkins went to London, to-day,

he might hear of his master's capture and never come back. Suddenly an

idea came to him. He stepped forwards between Jenkins and the door.

"You're not go to London, Jenkins," he said, "my grandfather would not

wish you to go."

Jenkins flushed an angry red, and was about to push Eric aside, when old

Briggs the butler came along the passage.

"Briggs," called Eric, "Jenkins says he's going to London. But whatever

happens he mustn't go. My grandfather would be awfully angry if he heard

Jenkins was out of the house. I can't explain why, but you'll know soon.

Will you take him into the pantry and keep him there till grandfather

sends for him?"

Now Briggs hated Jenkins, and so he was very glad to do anything to

annoy him. Besides, he could see that Eric was in earnest. Taking

Jenkins by the arm, he led him into the pantry. The footman was in

there, cleaning silver, Eric was glad to see. Jenkins had gone perfectly

white, and his knees knocked together as he walked. Suddenly Eric

snatched the little black bag from his hands. Jenkins tried to keep hold

of it, but Eric was too quick for him.

"Don't leave him alone for a minute, will you, Briggs?" said Eric.

"No, sir, I will not," said Briggs. He pushed Jenkins into a chair,

where he sat looking like a rat in a trap. He knew he was found out, and

that escape was impossible.

VI

HANDS UP, JENKINS

"Now for grandfather's study," said Eric.

He led the way along a passage, and knocked on the study door.

"Come in," said Sir David.

The two boys entered, looking very serious. They sat down on two chairs,

opposite Sir David, and first Donald told the story of the finding of

the secret room and then Eric went on to describe how they had seen the

spy. At first old Sir David could not believe his ears: but at last when

he understood that it was really his adopted son who was doing this

awful thing, it was terrible to see his grief. Then Eric told of the

meeting with Jenkins.

"Ring the bell," said Sir David. Donald did so. When the footman

appeared, Sir David told him to bring Jenkins. A moment later Jenkins

appeared, accompanied by Briggs who showed him in, and then retired.

Jenkins was as white as a sheet. His fingers twitched, as he walked

across the room. Eric was watching him narrowly. He saw him glance

towards the long French window, which stood open, and then slip his

right hand into his pocket.

"Sit down, Jenkins," said Sir David. He took his eyes off the man, and

turned to see if there was a chair at hand. Like a flash Jenkins seized

this opportunity, and whipped a small revolver out of his pocket. But

Eric was too quick for him. Like a panther he sprang upon him, dragging

down his arm, and wrenched the pistol from him. "Here, grandfather,

quick," he said, thrusting the little weapon into his hands. Sir David

raised the pistol and pointed it at Jenkins. "Hold your hands above your

head, and sit down quietly," he said. The man obeyed. "Now, Eric, ring

the bell." Eric did so. Briggs appeared, and looked somewhat surprised

to see his master pointing a revolver at Jenkins. "Briggs," said Sir

David, "telephone at once for the police. And when Mr. Mendel comes in,

ask him to come to my study at once. Don't let him think there is

anything unusual, but don't let him out of your sight."

"Very good, sir," said Briggs, and retired.

Half an hour later the police arrived, and handcuffed Jenkins. They had

not been there long before steps were heard approaching. They were

William Mendel's steps. "Well, father," he said, as he came in, "there's

good news to-day--another of those beastly U-boats sunk--" Then he saw

the police, and Jenkins in handcuffs. His sallow face went a death-like

colour, and he seemed to crumple up.

"Yes, William," said Sir David, "there is good news to-day. The men who

give orders to the U-boats have been caught. I hope we shall now hear of

no more tragedies in the Irish Sea. Will you please hold out your

hands?" A constable had appeared, with a pair of handcuffs.

Enough had been found in the little black bag to convict Mendel, even

without the Cub's story.

. . . . . . . .

A few days later Eric and Donald received official thanks for having

caught two most dangerous spies, and having discovered the base that was

supplying two U-boats with petrol. Donald Ford had got his sovereign for

finding the secret room, and the other Cubs each got one because it was

two of their number that had found the German spies. But it was not

William Mendel who gave them the sovereigns. He could not keep his

bargain, because he was a prisoner in the Tower of London!