The island of the stairs

The Flight from the Place of Horror
The Island of the Stairs
By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY Author of “The Island of Regeneration,� “As the Sparks Fly Upward,� “The West Wind,� Etc.
With Four Illustrations By THE KINNEYS
A. L BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 114-120 East Twenty-third Street - - New York Published by Arrangement with A. C. McClurg & Company
Copyright A. C. McCLURG & CO. 1913 Published November, 1913 Copyrighted in Great Britain
This story is affectionately dedicated to my far-off adventurous Brother-in-law , E. S. BARRETT
In order to safeguard the reputation of that worthy seaman and most gallant gentleman who writes this memoir, the editor thereof deems it proper to call attention to the fact that Master Hampdon has described accurately the Island of Mangaia of the Cook, or Hervey, group in the South Seas. It is still completely encircled by the unbroken barrier reef, over which the natives ride in their light canoes. The stairs still exist despite the earthquake to which Master Hampdon refers—and other upheavals which may have followed—and are still traversed by the feet of curious, if infrequent, visitors. For the rest, such altars and platforms as he and his little lady found still abound in the South Seas. Also on Easter Island, and on others, too, such statues of the grotesque and hideous “Stone Goddes� as he describes may be seen. Who made them and why, as well as when they were put there, are as much mysteries today as they were when, in that far-off time, Master Hampdon and his lady sailed those then unknown seas in that brave little barque The Rose of Devon .
C. T. B.
Mount Vernon, N. Y.
THE ISLAND OF THE STAIRS
I CANNOT say that I was greatly surprised when I stumbled across the body of Sir Geoffrey in the spinney, which is not for a moment meant to convey the impression that I was not shocked. Many times before that morning in my long and adventurous life I had, as I have often since, seen many people die in all sorts of sudden and dreadful ways, in all parts of the globe, too. And in some cases where the sufferer was past hope and the suffering great, I have prayed for the good mercy of a quick end; but never, even under such circumstances, have I been able to look upon death philosophically, at least afterwards. The shock is always there. It always will be, I imagine; indeed I would not have it otherwise. I hope never to be indifferent to the passing of that strange mysterious thing we call life. But I digress.