He thrust his fingers under the stone and set his feet wide apart. The muscles of his back and arms rose in ridges. The veins of his neck swelled like knotted cords. The great stone stirred in its bed.
Clearchus and Nathan dropped their weapons and bent eagerly to assist him. The ponderous mass heaved slowly upward, tilting toward the opening that led to the stairway. From the sound of the voices within they knew that their pursuers were close at hand.
"Life or death!" groaned Chares, the sweat streaming from his body like rain. "Now!"
The mighty stone rose inch by inch upon its edge, standing higher than the heads of the three men, who were now behind and beneath it. Their pursuers had evidently halted on the stairs, expecting the opening to the roof to be defended. Puzzled by the silence, they seemed to be concerting a plan of attack. Suddenly they sprang upward with a shout, thrusting forward their spears and crowding for the aperture.
The great slab stood upright, balancing on its lower end. While a man might draw breath, it hung motionless, and then it toppled over upon the opening from the stairs.
The foremost of the pursuers saw it and with inarticulate cries sought to retreat. They were too late. The heavy mass crashed down upon their heads and covered the opening. Nathan and Clearchus fell forward with it and lay gasping. Chares swayed upon his feet and his head reeled. The blood dripped from the ends of his fingers, where it had burst from beneath his nails. Faintly from under the stone issued cries of agony, as though some of the guard had been caught there and held fast by mangled limbs.
Nathan staggered to his feet and groped for his sword. "Now for the wall," he cried. "We may yet escape!"