WE FIND THE PASSAGE
There was a low whir as of some hidden machinery, and I stepped instantly back, gripping the revolver at my belt uncertain for the instant whether my pull had operated the strange contrivance, or whether some happening was responsible. Slowly, utterly silent but for that soft whining, the mantel swung as on a central pivot, half-way round, and then stopped with a click, leaving before us a black opening, large enough to admit easily the passage of a man's body, and about four feet high I seemed to see this, and O'Brien's face at the same instant. The latter was absolutely gray, and his limbs shook under him. What power held him from flight or kept him from discharging his gun into the orifice, I could not determine, yet his very terror gave me relief.
"Unncock your carbine," I ordered. "There is nothing there to shoot at. See," and I caught up the lamp and held it where the light streamed through the opening. He obeyed mechanically, as he would in battle, but still shrinking back, the muzzle of his weapon pointing into the depths of the hole. I stepped in front of him, advancing the lamp, so as to yield me a clearer view. It was simply the interior of a huge chimney, built of stones, carefully mortared, and so clean as to be proof positive no smoke had ever passed that way. The opening downward was square, three feet across I judged, but, as I held the lamp lower, the passage appeared to widen out considerably below the floor level, and I caught glimpse of a ladder, with wide steps, tilted to such an angle as to make climbing scarcely more difficult than would a pair of stairs. In a niche of the wall, on a wooden shelf, was
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