The other picks up an old piece of wrought iron, all rusty, the only object lying on the floor.
"You'll see. Around the 18th century, it seems that the owners filled this well with water to use it as a reserve and that every day they came to draw what they needed from it. They used it as such until 1753, but one evening the squire's daughter fell into it. At least they assume so, because all that was found was her empty bucket. Since then, the castle has been more or less abandoned. It's cursed in the country and you have to wait for the last owner before you see anyone living there again.
- Not a very reassuring story. Something to liven up evenings by the fire.
- Here, listen, I'll throw this piece of iron in... "
They bend down and listen to the falling iron as it bounces off the walls but never seems to stop. The roar of the wind accompanies the descent, as if to guide the iron, but there is no indication that it has reached the bottom. Finally, only the melody persists.
"- Well, anyway, it's a shaft and that's it."

Difficulty ***