On the left flank of the arch were a series of inscribed characters, which might have been cut by a human hand, or might have been a mere natural freak.

They looked like some rude system of hieroglyphics, and bore no meaning to Freeman's mind.
A sort of crypt or deep recess was hollowed out beneath the arch, the full extent of which Freeman was unable to discern.

The floor of it descended in ridges, like a rough staircase.

He stood for a few moments peering into the gloom, tempted by curiosity to advance, but restrained partly by the gathering darkness, and partly by the oppressiveness of the atmosphere, which produced a sensation of giddiness.

Something white gleamed on the threshold of the crypt.