He made a sign with his hand.
The four Moors briskly took up Vorski and carried him to the back of the hall, on the side opposite the communicating passage.
Turning to Otto, who had stood throughout this scene without moving:
"I see that you're a reasonable fellow, Otto, and that you understand the position. You won't get up to any tricks?"
"No."
"Then we shan't touch you. You can come along without fear."
He slipped his arm through Belval's and the two walked away, talking.
They left the hall of the God-Stone through a series of three crypts, each of which was on a higher level than the one before. The last of them also led to a vestibule. At the far side of the vestibule, a ladder stood against a lightly-built wall in which an opening had been newly made. Through this they emerged into the open air, in the middle of a steep path, cut into steps, which wound about as it climbed upwards in the rock and which brought them to that part of the cliff to which François had taken Véronique on the previous morning. It was the Postern path. From above they saw, hanging from two iron davits, the boat in which Véronique and her son had intended to take flight. Not far away, in a little bay, was the long, tapering outline of a submarine.
Turning their backs to the sea, Don Luis and Patrice Belval continued on their way towards the semicircle of oaks and stopped near the Fairies' Dolmen, where the Moors were waiting for them. They had set Vorski down at the foot of the tree on which his last victim had died. Nothing remained on the tree to bear witness to the abominable torture except the inscription, "V. d'H."
"Not too tired, Vorski?" asked Don Luis. "Legs feeling better?"