things awaiting release, and I know each moment is an eternity.
Those people always do something to pass the desperate moments.
It's no use our trying to tame spiders, because we shan't have
time.'

'I HOPE not,' said Jane, doubtfully.

'But we ought to scratch our names on the stones or something.'

'I say, talking of stones,' said Robert, 'you see that heap of
stones against the wall over in that corner. Well, I'm certain
there's a hole in the wall there--and I believe it's a door. Yes,
look here--the stones are round like an arch in the wall; and
here's the hole--it's all black inside.'

He had walked over to the heap as he spoke and climbed up to
it--dislodged the top stone of the heap and uncovered a little dark
space.

Next moment every one was helping to pull down the heap of stones,
and very soon every one threw off its jacket, for it was warm work.

'It IS a door,' said Cyril, wiping his face, 'and not a bad thing
either, if--'

He was going to add 'if anything happens to the Phoenix,' but he
didn't for fear of frightening Jane. He was not an unkind boy when
he had leisure to think of such things.

The arched hole in the wall grew larger and larger. It was very,