“I haf very good boat, effendi,” he declared.
“Whatever is that?” asked Buckhart. “Do we have to take a boat?”
“You will see,” answered Zenas.
The entrance was somewhat like that of a sewer, but there were stone steps leading down into the darkness of the place. The guide found and lighted two torches, which it seemed were kept for the use of those who wished to visit the Palace.
“Say, this is some boogerish!” said Brad, as they found themselves in a dark and damp cemented passage.
“The old city was built above a huge system of cisterns,” explained the professor. “Their purpose was to guard against a famine of water in time of war. Some of the old cisterns are dry now and are used by silk spinners. We shall visit one that still contains water.”
“But I thought we were going to see a palace,” said Dick, in disappointment.
“You shall see one—so called.”
The passage echoed to their tread, while their voices came back hollowly, as if hidden imps were mocking them.
But the boys were quite unprepared for the spectacle that suddenly met their gaze. They came from the passage into a mighty vaulted chamber, stretching away into an unknown distance and filled with a shadowy maze of marble columns, row on row. The floor of this wonderful place was smooth as a mirror and seemed black as ebony, save where the light of the torches fell on it. There it glittered, and gleamed, and shimmered.