ealthily about the room, quickly huddled on
their clothes. Then they went on tiptoe down the stairs, which creaked
under their guilty footsteps as though they cried "Stop thief!" and on
through the wide, silent hall, where Snuff the terrier, coiled on his
mat, looked at them with an air of sleepy surprise, but did not stir.

But then came a difficulty. The garden door closed with a bolt high
above their reach, so that David had to mount upon his brother's back to
get at it. Even then he could not manage to move it at first, for it
was rusty, and when he did succeed it shot back with sudden violence and
made enough noise to waken the whole household. The boys stared
horror-stricken at each other, but there was no movement to be heard in
the house. Recovering courage they quickly picked up their tools, and
were soon fairly started on their way. This led for a short distance
along the high-road until, crossing a stile, they came to broad meadows,
where Farmer Hatchard's cows were munching peacefully away at the short
dewy grass. So far they were not beyond the allowed limits, and though
they instinctively drew closer together as they passed through the herd
of cows, they felt that none of the perils of the adventure had begun.

It was all familiar ground until they had passed the farm. Then came
Blackberry Lane, which was a short cut to Rumborough Common. Blackberry
Lane was so narrow that the straggling brambles and honeysuckles in the
tall hedges almost met overhead. It was very steep, very stony, and
always rather dark, a place, where it was easy to imagine any number of
robbers lying in wait. The boys climbed slowly up the steep ascent,
casting awed glances to right and left. The pickaxe weighed heavily on
Ambrose's shoulder, and David had quite as much as he could do to trudge
along with two spades and a sack.

It was a relief when they came suddenly out of the gloomy shadows of the
lane on to the broad expanse of Rumborough Common. There it lay
stretched out before them, with a rough cart track across the middle of
it. A lonely, cheerless-looking place! Bare of trees, except for one
group of ragged firs, which marked the position of what was called the
Camp. Not a house in sight, not a sign of life anywhere, nothing to
break its even surface but some pools of water glimmering coldly grey in
the morning light.

A sudden fear seized on Ambrose as he and David stood still for a moment
to take breath.