Dr. Avery led the way down the steps into the gloom of the underground passage. Pausing there, he struck a match, and then helped Marian to follow him. Her parents came next, the breadth of the tunnel allowing each couple to walk side by side.
"Close the door after you," said Avery, "for as likely as not there will be a search through the temple for us. Is there any means of fastening it?"
"There is not, fortunately."
"Why do you say fortunately?"
"If there was, do you suppose it would have been left so that we could open it?"
"The point of order is well taken," remarked the surgeon, whose spirits rose with the prospect before them.
Avery deemed it best to walk in front of Marian, so that if any slip took place it should not involve her. He kept burning matches at brief intervals, until they had progressed so far that Mr. Hildreth suggested that the light might attract attention from the other end of the passage way.
The tiny flame was allowed to flicker out, and for a time the journey was pushed in darkness. The surgeon's outstretched arms and shuffling feet could find no irregularity in the admirably made tunnel, which must have been constructed by some master mason of ancient times.
It has been stated that the distance from the ruined temple to the river was about two hundred yards, so that the subterranean passage was undoubtedly the same. When it seemed to Dr. Avery that he had gone that distance, he walked more slowly, and felt his way with extreme care.
At this juncture all the party heard the soft flow of water but a short distance beyond.