It was the only door in all those caverns that had refused to swing open at the first touch, and this one was fastened so rigidly that it might have been one with the frame for all the movement our blows on it produced.

Our guide swore he did not know the secret of it, and our letter of authority included no permission to break down doors or destroy property in any way at all.
It looked as though we were blocked, and the committee were all for the air and leaving that door unopened.

King urged them to go and leave it--told them flatly that neither they nor the world would be any wiser for anything whatever that they might do--was as beastly rude, in fact, as he knew how to be; with the result that they set their minds on seeing it through, for fear lest we should find something after all that would serve for an argument against their criticism.
Neither King nor I were worried by the letter of the committee's orders, and I went to look for a rock to break the door down with.

They objected, of course, and so did the priest, but I told them they might blame the violence on me, and furthermore suggested that if they supposed they were able to prevent me they might try.

Whereat the priest did discover a way of opening the door, and that was the only action in the least resembling the occult that any of us saw that day.
There were so many shadows, and they so deep, that a knob or trigger of some kind might easily have been hidden in the darkness beyond our view; but the strange part was that there was no bolt to the door, nor any slot into which a bolt could slide.