Chapter 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.