Its ponderous hinges were twisted as if they had been made of glue, and its massive bolts were snapped across like bits of glass.

All along the corridor on the floor was a thick coating of dust and _debris_, finely powdered, growing deeper and deeper until they came to the entrance of the room.

There was no window either in corridor or chamber, and the way was lit by candles held by soldiers who accompanied them.

The scoria crunched under foot as they walked, and in the chamber itself great heaps of dust, sand and plaster, all pulverized into minute particles, lay in the corners of the room, piled up on one side higher than a man's head.

There seemed to be tons of this _debris_, and, as Jennie looked up at the arched ceiling, resembling the roof of a vaulted dungeon, she saw that the stone itself had been ground to fine dust with the tremendous force of the blast.
"Where are the remnants of the treasure chest ?" she asked.
The Director shook his head.