Our good steward, as the times grew
dark, had the foresight to install a trap door with a small,
stone-lined cellar beneath it. It has been checked, and with minor
repairs, put in good working order. The cellar itself has been
furnished with blankets, food and water. This occupied the better part
of yesterday afternoon, the first of my return. I had determined to go
in search of you this morning, when fortunately for both of us (I am
still far from well, and had risked the daylight once already), you
came to me first.
"So far, until we've heard your story, I remain the principal danger
to us all. If trouble does come, I can be hidden away in thirty
seconds time. The door is here." He rolled back the threadbare carpet.
"And the latch, here." He bent down and lifted the square trap on its
hinges. When he let it down again, except by close scrutiny the wooden
floor seemed of a piece, the door itself invisible. He replaced the
carpet and came towards her, seeming calmer.
"You see, my girl, Anne and I have already had a chance to talk.
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