Presently he came to that part of the tunnel where a faint film of light penetrated into it, and again the fantastic shadows he had before seen seemed to menace him at every footstep he took. The cave, then, was not deserted. It was still inhabited by some one. Who? Zuker and Brockman—the same tenants as before, or had some one else come into possession?
Yes, there was the curtain, partly concealing the main entrance to the cave. To reach it, he crawled on hands and knees as before, and peered through the space between the curtain and the wall.
There was no anthracite fire burning this time. It was dimly lighted by one of the lamps suspended from the roof. There was no sign of life. The place seemed deserted.
Paul waited for a long time listening. No sound came from the cave. It was as silent as the tomb. But as he listened, he thought that he could again hear the sound of a light step behind him, coming along the path he had travelled.
Was it possible that some one else had entered the tunnel? Surely the master had not again followed unconsciously in his footsteps? Paul turned his head and listened, but it was as silent in that direction as the other.
"I'm getting as nervous as a kitten," he laughed to himself. "My ears have again deceived me."
No one appeared to be in the cave. Mr. Moncrief had said in his letter that he knew about Zuker's movements. Could it have been that he had been arrested? It was just possible. Anyhow, he would like to have a nearer view of the cave. There could be no danger, and if there were, it was worth the risk.
So Paul rose from his hiding-place behind the curtain, and stepped cautiously into the cave. The guns and cutlasses were still hanging on the wall, but the models and designs had gone, and the photographic camera had gone from its niche.
There was a passage on the other side of the chamber similar to the one through which he had come.
"Where does that lead to, I wonder?" thought Paul.