And a real cave it was! There were curious niches in the walls; the stone was fretted away into arches and hollows; in some parts natural columns had formed themselves, and in others dimly seen stalactites hung in the darkness above their heads.
Kerberos whined rather uncomfortably and kept very close to Chryseis, but Philos sniffed round excitedly, bent on investigating every nook and corner, till Andromache lifted him up struggling and barking and insisted on carrying him, for fear he might fall into some “unseen chasm.” Iason told her that Philos could take care of himself “a thousand times” better than she could; but Andromache was never easy to convince.
They went along very cautiously in Indian file. Iason came first, then the two girls, then Nikias, and Pavlo last of all.
After they had walked a little way in, they found a heap of charred sticks and a broken necked pitcher.
“Perhaps,” suggested Chryseis, “they may have remained here ever since the times when the women and children were hiding from the Turks. They may have had to cook and sleep in here, you know, while the men were outside fighting. And perhaps,” she added, stooping down to touch the broken pitcher, “we may be the very first people to touch them since then!”
“Well,” put in Andromache, the practical, “I should not care to have to eat or sleep in here. It smells just awful!”
“It is getting very dark too, and I cannot see where to step any more,” suggested little Nikias; then he added hurriedly, “Perhaps it will get lighter further in!”
“No, you little stupid, it will be darker further in,” said Iason, “because it winds away from the entrance!”
Chryseis stopped short.
“Let us turn back! perhaps it turns and turns like the Labyrinth and we may never be able to get out again.”