Free The Velvet Room by Zilpha Keatley Snyder Page B

nighttime much. She wasn’t too brave about the dark, and then, too, things had a way of growing from bad to worse if you thought about them in the night. But suddenly she saw things quite differently. How wonderful it was that day ended — that there would always be hours that were soft and secret and dim, to hide things for a while from the hard brightness of day. She sat and watched until it was quite late; then a cool breeze began to blow in through the open window and she went to sleep.
    As soon as breakfast was over the next morning, Robin was on her way to Bridget’s. She stopped at the stone house and hid the candle and matches under some dry leaves in the old fountain. Bridget was out tending her garden, but she seemed to know that Robin was in a hurry and didn’t stop to chat. So it was still very early on a warm June morning when Robin finally climbed down the ladder in the dry well, carrying her candle and matches.
    She was partway down when she noticed a metal handle on the underside of the well cover. It looked as if it would be possible to use it to slide the cover back over the opening. That seemed like a good idea. Then, if someone did happen to come along, the well wouldn’t be standing open.
    Robin climbed down to the bottom, lit the candle, and propped it up against the wall. Then she went back up the ladder and, by tugging with both hands, managed to slide the well lid back over the opening. Now the only light in the dry well came from the flickering candle.
    As Robin stood facing the tunnel door, the beat of her heart grew louder and louder. She reached for the door pull and then stopped, remembering how black it was inside. Clenching her teeth and holding her breath, Robin inched the door open, keeping her eyes on the tiny flame. She smelled the dampness and felt cold air moving around her. The flame wavered and she caught her breath in a sharp gasp; but it straightened again and went on burning. The tiny light trembled into the blackness, and it became apparent that the tunnel was lined with stone. The moving flame made hundreds of wiggling shadows on the rough walls. Robin bit her lip and stepped forward.
    The old well was not very far from the adobe portion of the big house; but to Robin, inching her way forward fearfully, the passage seemed at least a block long. She began to think that she must have passed right under the house and that she was now heading off into nothingness. But just as she was beginning to despair, the tunnel ended in a flight of stone stairs.
    The stairs led up and up until they came to what seemed to be a tinv room with no doors or windows. But the walls of this room were not the same as the cold damp walls in the tunnel. They were warm and had a chalky feeling. Holding the candle closer, Robin recognized the rough surface of adobe bricks. For the first time since she had entered the tunnel, she took a real breath. She must be inside the adobe wing of Palmeras House.
    Three of the walls of the tiny room were the same: adobe bricks. But the fourth wall was different. It was made of wood, and there was a metal handle just like the one on the well door. Robin took hold of the handle and pulled gently. Nothing happened! She pulled harder, but still there was not the slightest movement. It felt as if she were pulling on a solid wall. Suddenly she was frightened again, and grabbing the door, she pulled with all her might. Still nothing moved. There was no way out! For an awful moment she could think of nothing but getting out of the tunnel.
    She was halfway down the flight of stairs before she came to a halt. If she left now, would she ever be able to make herself come back? It was awful to give up when she had come so far. Robin clenched her teeth, and even though the candle was shaking in her hand, she turned and climbed slowly back up the stairs.
    Back in the tiny stuffy room, she forced herself to stop and think. There must be an answer, if only she weren’t too scared to