6

Philip was actively stomping upstairs, looking for a place to tie a rope. He pulled back the bolt and lifted the hatch. The basement is a little brighter.

- Grab a candle, - Rene shouted.

- Yes.

Finally, the preparations were completed, grabbing the rope, Philip squeezed through the hatch and began to slowly descend. In a few moments his feet touched the hard floor. Pulling two candles out of his bag, he lit them and handed one to Rene.

- Be careful, watch your feet.

The flickering flame of candles lit up a huge basement, obviously larger than the house itself. The damp, stale air made it hard to breathe.

“Wow, look, it looks like the knights were training here.

Indeed, the floor was littered with broken pieces of swords and halberds, a rotten straw man for training stood in the corner, next to it was a weapon rack. Cautiously stepping, friends moved in different directions. Rene walked along the wall, looking with curiosity at everything that caught his eye, afraid to miss any little thing. Suddenly there was a muffled exclamation of Philip. Legrand rushed towards him, and a few seconds later both were standing in front of a rectangular stone structure covered with a slab. The plate has been moved to the side.

- What is it, Lord God? - Rene whispered in amazement and crossed himself.

- Tomb...

- Whose?

- I don't know, let's see, - suggested Philip.

Rene couldn't believe his ears.

- Do you want to look inside? What if there ... someone lies?

He looked at his friend in amazement, marveling at his courage. And he, approaching the sarcophagus, sighed, as if gaining courage, and with the determination of despair, lowered his hand with a candle inside the tomb. With parched lips, Rene whispered:

- Well, what is there?

- It's empty, - Philip exhaled with relief.

Emboldened, they carefully examined the tomb. It was a rectangular building of polished stone half a toise [i] deep, completely empty.

Why is she here, do you think?

“Perhaps the owner prepared it for himself?”

- Why didn't you use it? Listen, - Rene got worried, - what if he is still alive and now somewhere here in the house?

Philip recoiled in fear, but immediately relaxed.

- Come on, stop it, have you seen the house? He completely collapsed. Nobody has lived here for a long time. And why is the tomb empty... well, you never know, as it happens.

After trampling, they continued to inspect the basement. Rene walked cautiously, fearing some other surprise. He reached the corner, raised his eyes ... and rushed back at full speed. Running up to his friend, he looked at him with bulging eyes of horror and whispered with difficulty, poking his finger around the corner:

- There ... there .. man ... master!

He blinked his eyes in bewilderment.

- Didn't understand.

- Quiet you! I say, some gentleman is sitting there ... in chain mail and a helmet ... probably the owner of the house ... and the tomb.

Philip turned pale, but immediately pulled himself together.

- If in armor, then a knight, a noble man, and we have nothing to fear from him.

- What if it's a ghost? Guards the treasures of the house...

Shaking his head decisively, Philip pulled his friend by the sleeve.

- Went.

Rene took a deep breath and followed him. They carefully peered around the corner, trying to see something in the depths of the cellar. Not a sound came from the darkness. After a little trampling, the friends slowly moved on.

In the far corner of the basement stood a low wooden bench. A few steps ahead of her, the flickering light of a candle snatched out of the darkness the figure of a man who was reclining, leaning against the wall. The guys froze, then Philip took a step forward and said with a bow:

- Hello, sir.

No answer. They looked at each other in bewilderment, and Rene, whose heart was beating furiously in his chest, whispered hoarsely:

- He sleeps, or what?

Both of them stared at the stranger in confusion. René moved closer to get a better look at him... and his hair stood on end.

- The Lord is merciful! he exclaimed, dropping the candle from his hands.

The knight was dressed in full armor, including a helmet with a closed visor, only gloves were missing. And long, thin finger bones protruded from the sleeves of the chain mail.

They wanted to run, but their legs became wadded and did not want to obey. A minute passed, another - nothing happened. Little by little, they calmed down a little and began to carefully examine the terrible find.

The half-decayed cloak thrown over the rusted chain mail was once, obviously, white, a red cross clearly stood out on the chest. On the floor, at the feet of the skeleton, lay a sword.

- Templar! Philip whispered admiringly. - Understand? This is the real Templar!

- Exactly! Listen, let's raise the visor, shall we?

Philip nodded. Gathering his courage, he stepped towards the knight and slowly, slowly lifted the part of the helmet that covered his face. There was a creak, both shuddered, nerves were stretched to the limit. With a trembling hand, Rene brought the candle closer.

The empty eye sockets of the skull looked at them with a terrible black gaze, the lowered lower jaw revealed two rows of half-decayed teeth. Philip jerked his hand away in fright, the visor slid down and clanged against the helmet. The boys screamed and ran away. Having reached the tomb, they fell on the lid, trying to stop trembling and catch their breath. It took them at least five minutes to recover a little.

- Well? - still breathing heavily, asked Rene. - Shall we go again? It's interesting.

- Yeah.

With stealthy steps, they again went to the far end of the cellar. And this time they saw something that they had not noticed before: with the phalanges of the fingers, the skeleton held a long narrow box with a carved lid.

"Did he really die guarding this box?" Rene whispered respectfully.

"Probably," Philip nodded. - How long has he been sitting here?

The recent fright had subsided, and now they gazed at the remains of the templar with reverent reverence. They were especially interested in the knight's ammunition.

- Look, what kind of chain mail, they don’t make them anymore.

- Yeah, the current plate armor is much more reliable. And what a helmet!

Rene walked over to the sword and carefully took it in his hands.

- Heavy...

- Let me hold it.

Having seen enough of the terrible find, they again stared at the box. Philip whispered:

- In such chests, royal decrees and papal bulls are brought to Angouleme.

He paused, and then added in a barely audible voice:

- Rene, let's pick her up.

"Come on," he breathed.

He stretched out his hand to the box and immediately pulled it back: it was scary to take something from the hands of a skeleton. His breathing quickened, his throat dry.

- Maybe you're better?

“Take it, don’t be afraid,” Philip insisted.

René took a deep breath, reached out his hand to the box and carefully took hold of the edge. Chilling with horror, he hesitated a little and abruptly pulled out the box. The skeleton's knuckles thumped loudly, the sound echoing through the basement. Without saying a word, the friends rushed to run.

Rene toiled next to the hole while Philip climbed up the rope. Once on the first floor, he threw a rope to a friend.

- Tie yourself up and I'll pull you out.

Looking around nervously, René wrapped the rope tightly around himself and shouted in a half-whisper:

- Pull!

A couple of minutes later he was already standing next to Philip.

- Are we running?

- Let's run!

And friends rushed out of the Gloomy House.