“He’s the young man you saw in your room that night, and he may well be a murderer,” I said. “When we get out of this place, we’ll have to go carefully.”

“How are we going to get out?” she asked. “There’s not even a door.”

“Well, we got in,” I said, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt. “So we can try getting out the same way. If you’re strong enough to hold me on your shoulders, I can reach the ceiling. Perhaps I can push one of those slabs open.”

She crouched down and let me climb onto her back, then we inched our way around until I was directly under the high point of the arched ceiling. I found the slab that had opened to admit me all right but it was positioned so exactly that there wasn’t enough room to get a grip on it. I broke my fingernails trying to drag it down, but it was no use.

“That’s not going to work,” I said. “You’d better let me down.”

I clambered off her back and we sat panting while I examined the room.

“There’s that little grille in the wall down there,” I said. “I’m quite skinny, maybe I would fit through it.”

“Don’t try it, miss. It’s bound to be dangerous,” she said.

“We’re not just going to sit here and hope that someone finds us,” I said. “I’ve already had people searching for you all over the castle. If they couldn’t find you I don’t think there is much hope that we’ll be discovered.” I lay on the floor and peered out. It wasn’t encouraging. All I could see was another stone wall, about ten feet away. I tugged at the grille, I pushed it, but it wouldn’t budge. Truthfully I didn’t think it was likely to, having been in place for several hundred years, but I had to try.

“Help me pull this thing, Queenie,” I said.

We pulled together but it was hard to get our fingers through the small holes of the grille. We turned around and tried kicking it. No use.

“We need some leverage,” I said. “My petticoat is silk. Are you wearing a cotton one?”

“A cotton petticoat? Yes, miss.”

“Then take it off.”

She obeyed, eyeing me strangely as I attempted to tear it into strips. Eventually, using teeth and nails, Queenie’s hairpins and my brooch, we did manage to rip it and ended up with a couple of long strips. We tied these to the grille.

“When I say pull, you brace your feet against the wall and pull with all your might,” I said.

We pulled. Suddenly there was a cracking, crumbling sound as the grille came flying out. We looked at each other and nodded with satisfaction.