At length he halted and stood facing us. The guard that followed gathered close in the rear, the guide made a curious upward movement with his arm, and when we stood motionless repeated it several times.
"I suppose he wants us to fly," said Harry with so genuine a tone of sarcasm that I gave an involuntary smile.
The guide's meaning was soon evident. It took some seconds for my eye to penetrate the darkness, and then I saw a spiral stair ascending perpendicularly, apparently carved from the solid rock. Harry must have perceived it at the same moment, for he turned to me with a short laugh:
"Going up? Not for me, thank you. The beggar means for us to go alone."
For a moment I hesitated, glancing round uncertainly at the dusky forms that were ever pressing closer upon us. We were assuredly between the devil and the deep sea.
Then I said, shrugging my shoulders: "It's no good pulling, Harry. Come on; take a chance. You said it—going up!"
I placed my foot on the first step of the spiral stair.
Harry followed without comment. Up we went together, but slowly. The stair was fearfully steep and narrow, and more than once I barely escaped a fall.
Suddenly I became aware that light was descending on us from above. With every step upward it became brighter, until finally it was as though a noonday sun shone in upon us.
There came an exclamation from Harry, and we ascended faster. I remember that I counted a hundred and sixty steps—and then, as a glimmering of the truth shot through my brain into certainty, I counted no more.