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.Philippa watched him as he set it down.“Why don’t you take the flashlight and go see what’s behind that old door,” she said, “since it’s the only thing you like about the house.”“By myself?” he said quickly, without thinking.“Islington will go with you.I’ve got to put all these dishes away.”But when, with flashlight in hand, Danny pulled open the heavy door, the cold musty air touched Islington too.He spun away as if he had been hit, his back went up again, he growled and spat and dashed out of the house.Danny switched on the flashlight, and the first thing it brought to light was a pump, standing on the small landing where the stone steps turned.“Hey! A pump!” he shouted.“Super!” Philippa called from the kitchen.“That must mean there’s an underground well.The pump probably brings water up from it to the sink.What luxury!”He continued slowly down the steps.The air felt heavy and damp, and he could hear water dripping.He began to be afraid.Fear more intense than he had ever known seemed to seep into him with the moist air and the darkness.When he reached the last step he could barely make himself step down onto the stone floor.He flashed the light quickly over the walls, constantly turning to look behind.There were a few rusty bedsprings and crumbling pieces of furniture, some strange, blunt tools hanging on hooks, and in one corner a dusty black pile of coal.Upstairs, the cellar door slammed shut with a crash.Suddenly his heart was pounding furiously.As quickly as he could he stumbled up the stairs backwards, probing the darkness with the light.But when he reached the top the door would not open.He began to bang on it with his fist, turning around constantly to shine the light back down the stairs.“Hey!” he cried.“Get me out of here! Let me out!” He heard Philippa’s quick steps, then the sound of the latch.At last the door swung open.Her face was full of alarm.“What happened?”“Nothing,” he said, trying to regain his composure.He glared at Islington, who was crouching between Philippa’s feet.“The door slammed by itself.I guess it must lock from the outside.”“But what’s down there?”“Oh, just a cellar.There’s a big pile of coal in it.”“How marvelous! Would you be a darling and bring some to me? I’d really like to get the stove started, it might be a big job.Oh, and after that, why don’t you try pumping for a bit.We’ve got to find out if that pump brings water up to the sink faucet; nothing comes out when I turn it on now.And I’m dying for a cup of tea.”Danny’s ingrained response to Philippa’s requests was stronger than his fear.He realized that she was going to ask him to go down there frequently, and decided that he might as well get used to it from the beginning.This time he dashed down the steps, scooped up the coal, and dashed back up in less than a minute.But fear hung in the basement like cobwebs, and even in that brief time it penetrated to his bones.On the landing he felt a bit more comfortable.Some light reached it from the living room, and he left the flashlight on while he pumped with his back to the wall.He was limp and panting after only thirty strokes.Just when his arms seemed about to fall off, he heard Philippa shriek, “Water! Water!” from the kitchen, and stopped pumping immediately.That will have to be enough to last until tomorrow, he told himself.While Philippa banged and poked at the coal stove, Danny dragged in the mattresses and chairs and made up the beds.When he came back down, the stove was humming and crackling and the kitchen was filling with warmth.The water took a while to boil, but soon they were standing with steaming mugs in their hands, taking brief sips of scalding tea.“Well, now that we’re a little bit organized I feel much better,” Philippa said.“But I really can’t rest until I get rid of some of this dust and cobwebs.”Danny was looking out the window.“Can’t we take a break and go outside? I’d like to see what it’s like around here before it gets dark.”“You go, darling.Take a little walk.I really couldn’t enjoy it with the place in this condition, and you wouldn’t be much help dusting anyway.But don’t stay away too long.You’d never find your way back in the dark.”In the clearing there were a few thick trees.At the opposite end from the track on which they had come was another rusting gate.Danny paused there and turned back to look at the house.Under the vastness of the sky, which had become heavy and overcast, the house seemed small and defenseless.Yet there it belonged.It fit into the landscape like another tree, or part of the hillside.It was hard to believe it had been built at all, that it hadn’t always been there.From the gate a path led through a small thicket of pine trees.As he entered he heard a rustling in the underbrush, and what sounded like a strange, choked gasp.He spun around, but could see nothing unusual.It must be some kind of bird, he told himself.But he began walking faster.The path soon led out of the trees and ended at a wide, grassy track.On the right was a thick forest, and on the left scrub bushes and small twisted trees tumbled down the hillside.Danny realized that this track led right along the top of the long, narrow hill.As he walked he could see occasional pathways leading into the forest.On the other side he knew he should be able to see a view, but he couldn’t see over the tops of the few trees and the thick undergrowth.Yet the track was so wide that he felt free and exposed to the sky.The wind made a sound like the sea in the treetops.It almost seemed to be alive.He reached a place where the track turned, and on the left seemed to hang over the edge of the ridge.Far below him he saw the Black Swan, and the road they had come on looked like a thin silver band.Rolling fields faded away into a thick mist, and the farthest things he could see were a few vague pinpoints of light.The wind hovered around him, and the noise of the trees, and distant sounds that he could not identify.He felt a drop of rain, and realized with a start that he had no idea how long he had been standing there
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