and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. Then he poised the hammer and struck fairly at the knob. It seemed to give as it shattered.
There was a grating sound, the rushing noise of water, and an opening gaped before them, a slab of the rock that had fitted so snugly as to defy inspection sliding down. A massive panel of granite eighteen inches thick settled with a muffled sound and a gush of damp but warm air came out. The moon shone through the gap and revealed a slanting passage the untouched roof of which showed that it was natural though the sides had been roughly squared and perhaps widened.
"'Ow do yer shut it?" asked Larkin. "There hain't some sort of a trap to it, you suppose?"
"Lyman shut it. It may work only from the outside but I'm afraid we've smashed the connection. It is hydraulic, of course."
"Hof course," echoed Larkin. "Wot do we care? Give us a torch."
Harvey handed him one and he turned on the switch. The tunnel bent abruptly to the right. Larkin turned the corner and led the way, chanting in a voice that echoed loudly:
Ail, 'ail, the gang's all 'ere,
Wot the 'ell do we care?
Wot the 'ell do we care?
Wot the 'ell do we care now?
A swarm of bats came blundering out as they followed the Cockney, descending the narrow passage
