hat the girls did not much like passing. The passage ended
in a flight of steps. Robert went up them.

Suddenly he staggered heavily back on to the following feet of Jane, and
everybody screamed, 'Oh! what is it?'

'I've only bashed my head in,' said Robert, when he had groaned for some
time; 'that's all. Don't mention it; I like it. The stairs just go right
slap into the ceiling, and it's a stone ceiling. You can't do good and
kind actions underneath a paving-stone.'

'Stairs aren't made to lead just to paving-stones as a general rule,'
said the Phoenix. 'Put your shoulder to the wheel.'

'There isn't any wheel,' said the injured Robert, still rubbing his
head.

But Cyril had pushed past him to the top stair, and was already shoving
his hardest against the stone above. Of course, it did not give in the
least.

'If it's a trap-door--' said Cyril. And he stopped shoving and began to
feel about with his hands.

'Yes, there is a bolt. I can't move it.'

By a happy chance Cyril had in his pocket the oil-can of his father's
bicycle; he put the carpet down at the foot of the stairs, and he lay
on his back, with his head on the top step and his feet straggling down
among his young relations, and he oiled the bolt till the drops of rust
and oil fell down on his face. One even went into his mouth--open, as he
panted with the exertion of keeping up this unnatural position. Then
he tried again, but still the bolt would not move. So now he tied his
handkerchief--the one with the bacon-fat and marmalade on it--to the
bolt, and Robert's handkerchief to that, in a reef knot, which cannot
come undone however much you pull, and, indeed, gets tighter and tighter
the more you pull it. This must not be confused with a granny knot,
which comes undone if you look at it. And then he and Robert pulled,
and the girls put their arms round their brothers and pulled too, and
suddenly the bolt gave way with a rusty scrunch, and they all rolled
together to the bottom of the stairs--all but the Phoenix, which had
taken to its wings when the pulling began.

Nobody was hurt much, because the rolled-up carpet broke their fall; and
now, indeed, the shoulders of the boys were used to some purpose, for
the stone allowed them to heave it up. They felt it give; dust fell
freely on them.

'Now, then,' cried Robert, forgetting his head and his temper, 'push all
together. One, two, three!'

The stone was heaved up. It swung up on a creaking, unwil