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Warlord of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs
page 43 of 227 (18%)
Timing my operations carefully, I held the torch to the small aperture
in the door, regulating the intensity of the light by means of the
thumb-lever upon the side of the case.

For fifty tals I let three units of light shine full in the pinhole,
then one unit for one xat, and for twenty-five tals nine units.
Those last twenty-five tals were the longest twenty-five seconds
of my life. Would the lock click at the end of those seemingly
interminable intervals of time?

Twenty-three! Twenty-four! Twenty-five!

I shut off the light with a snap. For seven tals I waited--there
had been no appreciable effect upon the lock's mechanism. Could
it be that my theory was entirely wrong?

Hold! Had the nervous strain resulted in a hallucination, or did
the door really move? Slowly the solid stone sank noiselessly back
into the wall--there was no hallucination here.

Back and back it slid for ten feet until it had disclosed at its
right a narrow doorway leading into a dark and narrow corridor that
paralleled the outer wall. Scarcely was the entrance uncovered
than Woola and I had leaped through--then the door slipped quietly
back into place.

Down the corridor at some distance I saw the faint reflection of
a light, and toward this we made our way. At the point where the
light shone was a sharp turn, and a little distance beyond this a
brilliantly lighted chamber.
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