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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Beverly of Graustark"

Hush! It doesn't matter where I got the key. See! See how easy
it is?"
He felt her tense little fingers in the darkness searching for
his. Their hands were icy cold when the clasp came. Together they stood
in a niche of the wall near the chancel rail. It was dark and a cold
draft of air blew across their faces. He could not see, but there was
proof enough that she had opened the secret panel in the wall, and that
the damp, chill air came from the underground passage, which led to a
point outside the city walls.
"You go first," she whispered nervously. "I'm afraid. There is a lantern
on the steps and I have some matches. We'll light it as soon as--Oh,
what was that?"
"Don't be frightened," he said. "I think it was a rat."
"Good gracious!" she gasped. "I wouldn't go in there for the world."
"Do you mean to say that you intended to do so?" he asked eagerly.
"Certainly. Someone has to return the key to the outer gate. Oh, I
suppose I'll have to go in. You'll keep them off, won't you?"
plaintively. He was smiling in the darkness, thinking what a dear,
whimsical thing she was.
"With my life," he said softly.
"They're ten times worse than lions," she announced.
"You must not forget that you return alone," he said triumphantly.
"But I'll have the lantern going full blast," she said, and then allowed
him to lead her into the narrow passageway.


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