on his hands.
  We sorted through the remaining oak boards and pieces and I kept a weather eye out for the German shepherd. I couldn't imagine the farmer letting a dangerous dog loose to roam about, but I wasn't entirely convinced. There was a fruitwood door with worn brass hinges leaning against the wall. This lifted Serge's spirits somewhat. He reckoned it was part of an eighteenth-century buffet that, once reassembled, could be worth at least double what he'd paid out.
  When we lifted it up to pack it in the van, I noticed an oval opening in the wall with a crumbling brick surround and rusting iron bars. It appeared to be some sort of cellar and I got a shock when something moved deep down in the darkness. For one terrible moment I thought this might be where the dog was kept when he wasn't out on the chain frightening people. But then two hands grasped the bars and a face materialised. It was wild and grubby, framed in a shock of dark curly hair. Two brown eyes looked into mine. I blinked, and the face was gone.
2
POLICE AND PRISONERS
'Come on, let's get this last lot finished and we can call it a day.' Serge had come back in from loading. I pointed at the hole in the wall.
  'Yes, yes, it's a cattle window,' he said, matter-of-factly. 'The peasants probably kept a few cows down there separated from the goats or whatever up here â the window was there so they could munch away at the straw through the bars.'
  'There's someone in there.' He looked at me as if he hadn't understood. 'I saw someone⦠a face.'
  Serge grinned at me as if I was joking about. 'It's probably one of the kids playing down there. Come on.' He grasped a heavy oak board. 'Grab the other end of this and we'll press on. We haven't got all day.'
  I ignored him, bending down close to the bars and peering through. 'Believe me, it's nothing,' he said. 'You're seeing things, my friend.'
  I picked up the board with him and we plonked it in the back of the van. But I couldn't stop thinking about the face. I hurried back inside just in time to catch the twinkle of a pair of eyes and see two hands slip away from the bars again. Serge, who was close behind me, had seen them too. 'Do you know what, I think you may be right. How very strange.'
  We made a circuit of the barn and discovered a heavily bolted locked door on the far side. 'This is a bit unusual,' said Serge. 'I've never known outbuildings locked like this unless there's a dangerous animal inside. Look, it's really none of our business. I'm sure there's some perfectly sensible explanation. Let's just finish loading up and get out of here.'
  'How can you say that? If someone is shut in down there they need our help. We can't ignore this.'
  'Just watch me,' said Serge. 'Listen, British, strange things go on in the country. If we took notice of every odd thing we came across, we'd never get anything done.'
  He led the way back into the barn and began to sort through the pieces. I couldn't take my eyes off the barred window. As we lifted another heavy section of furniture the face reappeared. We both stood straining but unable to move, fascinated. There was no mistaking the fear in the eyes. I looked at Serge and we slowly lowered the piece. When I looked back the face had gone. Serge shook his head and we carried on. We managed to get all the rest of the bits in the van. Serge slammed the back doors shut. 'We've got to do something about that poor devil,' I said. 'I couldn't live with myself otherwise.'
  'I'm not sure we should interfere,' said Serge. 'Let's just forget the whole thing.'
  'Someone's shut in down there,' I said. 'I'm going to get him out and if you're not prepared to help me, that's just too bad.'
  I went round to the locked door and after a short search managed to find a key hanging from a length of baler twine on a rusty nail in one of the beams. When I tried it in the
  We sorted through the remaining oak boards and pieces and I kept a weather eye out for the German shepherd. I couldn't imagine the farmer letting a dangerous dog loose to roam about, but I wasn't entirely convinced. There was a fruitwood door with worn brass hinges leaning against the wall. This lifted Serge's spirits somewhat. He reckoned it was part of an eighteenth-century buffet that, once reassembled, could be worth at least double what he'd paid out.
  When we lifted it up to pack it in the van, I noticed an oval opening in the wall with a crumbling brick surround and rusting iron bars. It appeared to be some sort of cellar and I got a shock when something moved deep down in the darkness. For one terrible moment I thought this might be where the dog was kept when he wasn't out on the chain frightening people. But then two hands grasped the bars and a face materialised. It was wild and grubby, framed in a shock of dark curly hair. Two brown eyes looked into mine. I blinked, and the face was gone.
2
POLICE AND PRISONERS
'Come on, let's get this last lot finished and we can call it a day.' Serge had come back in from loading. I pointed at the hole in the wall.
  'Yes, yes, it's a cattle window,' he said, matter-of-factly. 'The peasants probably kept a few cows down there separated from the goats or whatever up here â the window was there so they could munch away at the straw through the bars.'
  'There's someone in there.' He looked at me as if he hadn't understood. 'I saw someone⦠a face.'
  Serge grinned at me as if I was joking about. 'It's probably one of the kids playing down there. Come on.' He grasped a heavy oak board. 'Grab the other end of this and we'll press on. We haven't got all day.'
  I ignored him, bending down close to the bars and peering through. 'Believe me, it's nothing,' he said. 'You're seeing things, my friend.'
  I picked up the board with him and we plonked it in the back of the van. But I couldn't stop thinking about the face. I hurried back inside just in time to catch the twinkle of a pair of eyes and see two hands slip away from the bars again. Serge, who was close behind me, had seen them too. 'Do you know what, I think you may be right. How very strange.'
  We made a circuit of the barn and discovered a heavily bolted locked door on the far side. 'This is a bit unusual,' said Serge. 'I've never known outbuildings locked like this unless there's a dangerous animal inside. Look, it's really none of our business. I'm sure there's some perfectly sensible explanation. Let's just finish loading up and get out of here.'
  'How can you say that? If someone is shut in down there they need our help. We can't ignore this.'
  'Just watch me,' said Serge. 'Listen, British, strange things go on in the country. If we took notice of every odd thing we came across, we'd never get anything done.'
  He led the way back into the barn and began to sort through the pieces. I couldn't take my eyes off the barred window. As we lifted another heavy section of furniture the face reappeared. We both stood straining but unable to move, fascinated. There was no mistaking the fear in the eyes. I looked at Serge and we slowly lowered the piece. When I looked back the face had gone. Serge shook his head and we carried on. We managed to get all the rest of the bits in the van. Serge slammed the back doors shut. 'We've got to do something about that poor devil,' I said. 'I couldn't live with myself otherwise.'
  'I'm not sure we should interfere,' said Serge. 'Let's just forget the whole thing.'
  'Someone's shut in down there,' I said. 'I'm going to get him out and if you're not prepared to help me, that's just too bad.'
  I went round to the locked door and after a short search managed to find a key hanging from a length of baler twine on a rusty nail in one of the beams. When I tried it in the
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