But to our intense astonishment it was all dead silence. Not a sound of any single kind, save our excited breathing, greeted our ears. We might have broken into an empty house for all we knew the difference.
For nearly five minutes we stood, side by side, waiting for the battle which did not come.
"What on earth does it mean?" I asked my companion. "That crash of mine was loud enough to wake the dead. Can they have deserted the place, think you, and left us to starve?"
"I can't make it out any more than you can," he answered. "But don't you think we'd better take advantage of their not coming to find a way out?"
"Of course. One of us had better creep down the passage and discover how the land lies. As I'm the stronger, I'll go. You wait here."
I crept along the passage, treading cautiously as a cat, for I knew that both our lives depended on it. Though it could not have been more than sixty feet, it seemed of interminable length, and was as black as night. Not a glimmer of light, however faint, met my eyes.
On and on I stole, expecting every moment to be pounced upon and seized; but no such fate awaited me. If, however, our jailers did not appear, another danger was in store for me.
In the middle of my walk my feet suddenly went from under me, and I found myself falling I knew not where. In reality it was only a drop of about three feet down a short flight of steps. Such a noise as my fall made, however, was surely never heard, but still no sound came. Then Beckenham fumbled his way cautiously down the steps to my side, and whispered an inquiry as to what had happened. I told him in as few words as possible, and then struggled to my feet again.
Just as I did so my eyes detected a faint glimmer of light low down on the floor ahead of us. From its position it evidently emanated from the doorway of a room.
"Oh! if we only had a match," I whispered.