y bent
and slipped down into that darkness, thick with the dust of the
flight of the old man. With the distinctly pleasurable sensation of
being still alive he found himself standing upright upon an uneven
floor of masonry. He thrust out his arms and touched sides of mossy
rock. Then just before him a pale flame flickered. The old man had
kindled a little taper that hardly did more than make shallow
hollows in the darkness through which he moved.

It was easy to follow now, and St. George went breathlessly on
past the rudely-hewn walls and giant pillars of that hidden way.
He might have been lost with ease in any of the lower processes of
the palace which they had that morning visited; but he could not
be deceived about the chambers which he had once seen, and this
subterranean course was new to him. Was it, he wondered, new to
Olivia, and to Jarvo? Else why had it been omitted in that
morning's search? And was this strange guide going on at random,
or did he know--something? A suspicion leaped to St. George's mind
that made his heart beat. The king--might he be down here
after all, and might this weird old man know where? His own
consciousness became chiefly conjecture, and every nerve was alert
in the pursuit; not the less because he realized that if he were
to lose this strange conductor who went on before, either in
secure knowledge or in utter madness, he himself might wander for
the rest of his life in that nether world.

Past grim latchless doors sealing, with appropriate gestures, their
forgotten secrets, past outlying passages winding into the heart of
the mountain, past niches filled with shapeless crumbling rubbish
they hurried--the mad old man and his bewildered pursuer. Twice the
way turned, gradually narrowing until two could hardly have passed
there, and at last apparently terminated in a short flight of
steps. Old Malakh mounted with difficulty and St. George, waiting,
saw him standing before a blank stone wall. Immediately and without
effort the old man's scanty strength served to displace one of the
wall's huge stones which hung upon a secret pivot and rolled
noiselessly within. He stepped through the aperture, and St. George
sprang behind him, watched his moment to cross the threshold,
crouched in the leaping shadow of the displaced stone and
looked--looked with the undistinguishing amazement that a man feels
in the panorama of his dreams.

The room was small and low and set with a circular bench