clamped with iron. He fumbled with the metal-work, keeping himself
between me and it, so that I could not see what he was doing. There was
a sharp snick, and the door revolved slowly upon its hinges. Within
there was a steep flight of time-worn steps leading upwards. He
motioned me on, and closed the door behind us. At the head of the stair
there was a second wooden gate, which he opened in a similar manner.

I had been dazed before ever I came into the chalk pit, but now, at this
succession of incidents, I began to rub my eyes and ask myself whether
this was young Louis de Laval, late of Ashford, in Kent, or whether it
was some dream of the adventures of a hero of Pigault Lebrun. These
massive moss-grown arches and mighty iron-clamped doors were, indeed,
like the dim shadowy background of a vision; but the guttering taper, my
sodden bundle, and all the sordid details of my disarranged toilet
assured me only too clearly of their reality. Above all, the swift,
brisk, business-like manner of my companion, and his occasional abrupt
remarks, brought my fancies back to the ground once more. He held the
door open for me now, and closed it again when I had passed through.

We found ourselves in a long vaulted corridor, with a stone-flagged
floor, and a dim oil lamp burning at the further end. Two iron-barred
windows showed that we had come above the earth's surface once more.
Down this corridor we passed, and then through several passages and up a
short winding stair. At the head of it was an open door, which led into
a small but comfortable bedroom.

'I presume that this will satisfy your wants for to-night,' said he.

I asked for nothing better than to throw myself down, damp clothes and
all, upon that snowy coverlet; but for the instant my curiosity overcame