Crown and Sceptre | Page 4

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baluster side by side with that he already held, missed it, and swung
round, hanging by one hand only, when suddenly there was a loud
crick-crack, and, under the impression that the slight wooden pillar had
broken, Fred sprang up the stairs to his companion's assistance, but
only to trip as he nearly reached the top and fall sprawling upon the
landing upon a great deer-skin rug.
CHAPTER TWO.
BEHIND THE STAIR.
Fred was up again in a moment, ready to pass his arms through and
help his friend; but the latter had already recovered himself, and was
holding on with both hands, now staring between the balusters like a
wild beast through the bars of his cage.
"What's the matter?" he said.
"I thought you were falling. Which one broke?"

"I don't know; neither of them."
"But what was that clacking noise?"
"I don't know. The baluster seemed to turn half round, and then fly
back as if it had a spring at the bottom."
"I know! Look here. It wrenched this stair loose. I trod on it, and that's
what made me fall."
"Wait till I've gone down to the bottom," said Scarlett, "and we'll soon
put that right."
As he spoke, the lad went on down, hand by hand, as Fred had made
the descent before him, and then came running up the polished oaken
stairs to where his companion stood by the top stair but one, upon
which lay a broad stain of red and gold, cast by a ray of light passing
through one of the painted windows.
"It must have come unnailed," said Scarlett, as he knelt down.
"I don't think it has," replied Fred, as he knelt beside him. "Look here,
it's quite loose; and see here, you can push it right in."
He thrust at the oaken board as he spoke, and it glided horizontally
from them under the top step which formed the landing, and left a long
opening like a narrow box the length and width of the stair.
"Don't push too far," cried Scarlett, "or we shan't get it back. Pull."
The boys pulled together, and the oaken tread glided back toward them
with the greatest ease, like a well-made drawer.
"Mind!" shouted Fred. And they snatched away their fingers just in
time to save a nasty pinch, for the board came swiftly back into its
position. There was a sharp crick-crack, and the stair was as solid as
before, and the broad stain from the painted window lay in its old place
on the dark brown wood.

Scarlett Markham turned and stared at Fred Forrester, and Fred
Forrester turned and stared at him.
"I say, what do you think of that?" said Scarlett.
"I don't know. What do you?"
"I don't know either," said Scarlett, trying to move the board again. But
it was firm as the rest of the stairs.
"Did you see that baluster?" said Fred.
"See it? No. What do you mean?"
"It seemed to me to move and make that noise."
"Nonsense! How could it?"
"I don't know, but it was just the same noise as it made when you
missed your hold and swung round."
"So it was; and I had hold of it," said Scarlett, thoughtfully, as he laid
his hand on the piece of turned and carved wood. "But it's quite firm."
He gave it a shake, but with no effect. "You come and try," he said.
Fred took his place, and shook the baluster, then the other--its
fellow--but there was no result.
"I don't know what to make of this," said Scarlett. "I wonder whether
all the stairs are made the same. There, never mind; let's go and fish."
"Stop a moment!" cried Fred, excitedly. "Look here; you can turn this
thing half round. See!"
"Well, that's only because it's loose. They're getting old and--"
Crick-crack!
Scarlett Markham started back, so quick and sudden was the sound, but

only to resume his position on his knees before the oaken stair-tread,
which again yielded to a thrust, and glided under the landing once more,
leaving the opening the length and breadth of the great stair.
"Why, it's like the lid of a sliding box, Scar," cried Fred. "Now then,
let's pull it over once more. But look here, it won't go any further."
This was the case, for about an inch of the carved front was left for
them to take hold of and draw it back, which they did, the board gliding
easily toward them, and closing with a loud snap.
"There! I did see it then," cried Scarlett.
"What?"
"That baluster. It half twisted round. Why, Fred, it's a hiding-place.
Here, let's open it again. Perhaps it's full of gold."
Fred was quite willing, for his curiosity was excited; so, seizing