But his feet came in contact with a ridge in the floor, and he and Cute were precipitated to the ground, the latter uttering a despairing yell as he fell. He fell over Percy, and lay a dead weight upon him, and it was only by a strong effort that Percy rolled him off, and struggled to his feet again. But when he did so, light and figure both had disappeared, and the blackness of a starless night encompassed them.
“Gone!” he cried, disappointedly.
“Oh! hocus-pocus conjurocus!” groaned Cute, upon the ground. “Phew! what a smell of brimstone!”
CHAPTER XXII.
THE SEARCH IS ENDED.
In the impenetrable gloom that now surrounded them, Percy could not direct his steps toward the platform on which the figures had appeared. He paused in bewilderment, amazed by what he had beheld.
“It is wonderful!” he exclaimed.
“I hope you are satisfied now,” cried Cute.
“I am,” returned Percy. “Where are you?”
“Here I am.”
Cute arose, and Percy grasped him by the arm.