"But that has disappeared. See, the floor is dry. And so it was there where you picked up the sacred roll. Listen!"
A dripping sound was heard. As Marduk moved towards it, a splash of foul matter fell upon him from above, and extinguished the lantern. It is uncertain whether disgust or wonder predominated in his soul at the moment.
"What's the matter now?" asked Manasseh.
"Why, the bottom has fallen out of Sheol, I should think. Such a swash of offal as I caught couldn't be found in Gehenna. But, worst of all, the lantern's done for."
Manasseh broke into a low laugh. "Rub my sides, Marduk, or I shall split. Ha! ha! ha!"
The sense of the ludicrous was so largely developed in him that Marduk could not resist joining his friend in a spontaneous combustion of merriment, notwithstanding the untowardness of their surroundings.
"What now, O blind guide?" he asked, as soon as he regained self-possession.
"What now? Why, a lecture, of course, on Jewish architecture," said Manasseh. "You noticed that the temple area is flat. Well, it wasn't so originally. The Lord made a high rock, like a crown, on this hill of Moriah, the sides of which must have been very steep. And to make it level with the top of the rock men did not build solid masonry, but piers and walls, leaving great spaces beneath. These spaces were chiefly used as cisterns. In the time of Solomon they held enough water to supply Jerusalem for a month or two, in case of drought or siege by an enemy."
"But that wasn't water that struck me just now, and put out the light," said Marduk.