Two narrow doors opened from the cellar to the river, but they were both fastened.
“I may break one of these,” he said, “but not yet. I’m in for a good time, and I’ll have one.”
Max discovered some broad steps leading to the upper story.
They were made of the baked clay, and as hard as stone.
He walked up them, and found a door at the top.
Groping his way along by the wall, he came to some more steps which led to a long corridor.
There was a feeble glimmer of light at the end of the hallway, and he followed that as his guide.
Once he thought he heard voices, but made up his mind he was mistaken. There were no signs of anyone dwelling there, everything was deserted and desolate.
He had no particular desire to meet anyone, his whole thoughts being now bent on escape.
He reached the end of the corridor, and found that the little ray of light proceeded from a transom over another door.