In fact, his foot had just struck against the first step of a stairway.
Preceding Valensolle, for whom he lighted the way, Morgan went up ten steps and reached the gate.

Taking a key from his pocket, he opened it.
They found themselves in the burial vault.

On each side of the vault stood coffins on iron tripods: ducal crowns and escutcheons, blazoned azure, with the cross argent, indicated that these coffins belonged to the family of Savoy before it came to bear the royal crown.

A flight of stairs at the further end of the cavern led to an upper floor.
Valensolle cast a curious glance around him, and by the vacillating light of the torch, he recognized the funereal place he was in.
"The devil!" said he, "we are just the reverse of the Spartans, it seems." "Inasmuch as they were Republicans and we are royalists ?" asked Morgan.
"No; because they had skeletons at the end of their suppers, and we have ours at the beginning." "Are you sure it was the Spartans who proved their philosophy in that way ?" asked Morgan, closing the door.
"They or others--what matter ?" said Vallensolle.

"Faith! My citation is made, and like the Abbe Vertot, who wouldn't rewrite his siege, I'll not change it." "Well, another time you had better say the Egyptians." "Well," said Valensolle, with an indifference that was not without a certain sadness, "I'll probably be a skeleton myself before I have another chance to display my erudition.