To Thorndyke the dark corridor seemed endless. The king's last words had now a sinister meaning, and Bernardino's whispered warning filled him with dread. "Keep your presence of mind," she urged; was it then, some frightful mental ordeal he was about to pass through?
Presently they came to a door. Thorn- dyke heard his guide feeling for the bolt and key-hole. The rattling of the keys sounded like a ghostly threat in the empty corridors. The air was as damp as a fog, and the stones were cold and slimy. After a moment the guard succeeded in unlocking the door and roughly pushed the Englishman forward. The door closed with a little puff, and Thorndyke felt about him for the guide; but he was alone. For a moment there was no sound. With the closing of the door it seemed to him that he was cut off from every living creature. In the awful silence he could hear his own heart beating like a drum.
"Stand where you are!" came in a hissing whisper from the darkness near by, and then the invisible whisperer moved away, making a weird sound as he slid his hand along a wall, till it died away in the distance.
A cold thrill ran over him. He was a brave man and feared no living man or beast, but the superstitious fears of his childhood now came upon him with redoubled force. For several minutes he did not stir; presently he put out his hand to the door and his blood ran cold. There was no knob, latch, or key-hole, and he could feel the soft padding into which the door closed to keep out sound.
Then he remembered the warning of the princess, and strove with all his might to fight down his apprehensions. "For your life keep your presence of mind," he repeated over and over, but try as he would his terror over-powered him. He laughed out loud, but in the dreadful silence and darkness his laugh sounded unearthly.
A cold perspiration broke out on him. It seemed as if hours passed before he again heard the sliding noise on the wall. Some one was coming to him. The sound grew louder and nearer, till a firm hand was laid on his arm; it felt as cold as ice through his clothing.
"Come," a voice whispered, and the Englishman was led forward.
Presently another door opened--a door that closed after them without any sound. Here the silence was more intensified, the darkness thicker as if compressed like air.
Hands were placed on the shoulders of Thorndyke and he was gently forced into a chair. As soon as he was seated two metal clamps grasped like a vise his arms between the elbows and the shoulders, and two more fastened round his ankles.
There was a faint puff of air from the door and the prisoner felt that he was alone. Terror held him in bondage. He tried to think of Bernardino, but in vain. Did they intend to drive him to madness? He began to suspect that the king had discovered his natural superstition and had decided to put it to a test. What he had undergone so far he felt was but the introduction to greater terrors in store for him.
There was a sigh far away in the darkness--then a groan that seemed to flit about in space, as if seeking to escape the dark, and then died away in a low moan of despair. Before him the blackness seemed to hang like a dark curtain about ten yards in front of him, and in it shone a tiny speck of light no larger than the head of a pin, and which was so bright that he could not look at it steadily. It increased to the size of a pea, and then he discovered that, at times, it would seem miles away in space and then again to draw quite near to hand. Glancing down, he noticed that it cast a bright round spot about an inch in diameter on the floor, and that the spot was slowly revolving in a circle so small that its motion was hardly observable. Surely the mind of a superstitious man was never so punished! When Thorndyke looked steadily at the spot, the black floor seemed to recede, and the spot to sink far down into the empty darkness below like a solitary star; So realistic was this that the Englishman could not keep from fancying that this chair was poised in some way over fathomless space. Presently he noticed that the spot had ceased its circular movement and was slowly--almost as slowly as the movement of the hand of a clock--advancing in a straight line toward him.
No such terror had ever before possessed the stout heart of the Englishman. As the uncanny spot, ever growing brighter, advanced toward him, he thought his heart had stopped beating; his brain was in a whirl. After a long while the spot reached his feet and began to climb up his legs. With a shudder and a smothered cry, he tried to draw his feet away, but they were too firmly manacled.
