But he had not much time for reflection; for Stephano once more took his hand, saying, “You are now about to descend a flight of steps.”
They proceeded downward together for some distance, when the steps ceased, and they pursued their way on a flat surface of pavement; but the echoes of their footsteps convinced the marquis that he was treading a subterranean cavern or passage.
Presently a huge door, sounding as if it were made of iron, was closed behind them, and Stephano exchanged a few words in a whisper with some one who spoke to him at that point. Then they descended a few more steps, and at the bottom another door was banged heavily, when they had passed its threshold,—the echoes resounding like pistol-shots throughout the place.
For a few minutes more did they proceed on another level-paved floor: and then the gurgling rush of a rapid stream met the ears of the marquis.
“Be careful in following me,” said Stephano; “for you are about to cross a narrow bridge, my lord—and one false step is destruction.”
Slowly they passed over the bridge, which seemed to be a single plank of about thirty feet in length and excessively narrow, he had no doubt, both from the caution which he had received and the elasticity of that dangerous pathway.
On the opposite side, the level-paved surface was continued; and at the expiration of another minute, heavy folding-doors closed behind them.
“Take off the bandage, my lord,” said Stephano, as he untied the knot which fastened the scarf at the back of the young nobleman’s head.
The Marquis of Orsini gladly availed himself of this permission; and when the bandage fell from his eyes, he found himself in a spacious cavern, paved with marble, hung with rich tapestry, and lighted by four chandeliers of massive silver.
Six pillars of crystal supported the roof, and rendered the luster of the chandeliers almost insupportably brilliant by means of reflection.