In the very centre of this apartment arose a great pile of irregular rock, flattened and hollowed along the top, where was burning a vast log, the smoke ascending straight upward, evidently finding outlet above.

The light, red and yellow, flared and flickered upon the surrounding bare gray walls, nothing else arresting the eye except a second wide rock platform close to where we crouched.

This was partially concealed by a great mat of coarsely woven scarlet cloth, which brought to me a conjecture that here, perhaps, the Queen was throned.
Wherever there was fire burning there must, of necessity, be attendants to feed the flame, but I could detect no sign of life, no sign of any kind, other than the crackling of the blazing log, and the heavy breathing of my companion.

The silence oppressed me.
"Go to the right," I advised at last, nervous from inaction, "I will try the left, until we meet again.

Keep close against the wall, and move with care." "'Tis not wholly unlike a visit to hell," he muttered gloomily, "but I am weary of lying shivering here." I watched the fellow creep forward on his knees, his brilliant head-covering revealed in the glare like a flame.