Then to an idle, listless blow there came a hollow, wooden sound, that caused the heart to leap into the throat.

I tried again, a foot to the left, confident my ears had played me false, but this time there could be no doubt--there was an opening here back of a wooden barrier.
Half crazed by this good fortune, I caught up the inch of candle, and held it before the wall.

The dim light scarcely served as an aid, so ingeniously had the door been painted in resemblance to the mortared stone.

I was compelled to sound again, inch by inch, with the gun barrel before I could determine the exact dimensions of the opening.

Then I could trace the slight crack where the wood was fitted, nor could I have done this but for the warping of a board.