One day, wandering about this strange old rambling place, I discovered the hidden door of a secret room, and in this room were many iron-bound chests, and when I raised the heavy lids I saw that each chest was full of gold.
And, when I saw this, I stole out softly and closed the hidden door, and drew the worn tapestries in front of it again, and crept back along the dim corridor, looking behind me, fearfully.
And the friend that I had loved came towards me, and we walked together with our hands clasped.

But I hated him.
And all day long I kept beside him, or followed him unseen, lest by chance he should learn the secret of that hidden door; and at night I lay awake watching him.
But one night I sleep, and, when I open my eyes, he is no longer near me.
I run swiftly up the narrow stairs and along the silent corridor.

The tapestry is drawn aside, and the hidden door stands open, and in the room beyond the friend that I loved is kneeling before an open chest, and the glint of the gold is in my eyes.
His back is towards me, and I crawl forward inch by inch.

I have a knife in my hand, with a strong, curved blade; and when I am near enough I kill him as he kneels there.
His body falls against the door, and it shuts to with a clang, and I try to open it, and cannot.

I beat my hands against its iron nails, and scream, and the dead man grins at me.