He took the end of the string and started off into the thick darkness once more. He reached the mummies and said: “Six. Now I will try another way.” Suddenly his voice came in a sharp whisper.
“Rex — quickly, follow me along the string.”
Rex followed and saw at once what De Richleau had already seen: a faint blur of light showed clearly the entrance to a passage a few feet away. They were standing near the side of the great hall. Momentarily the light grew brighter — the sound of footsteps could be heard — the steady glow showed that whoever was approaching carried a torch and not a candle.
“Thank God,” breathed the Duke. “Tackle him as he gets to the opening. You hit him on the head — I’ll snatch the torch.”
Rex nodded; swiftly they moved to opposite sides of the archway, and stood peering round the corners. A bright light could be seen now advancing between two rows of mummies. Weird shadows flickered on the walls and ceiling — behind the light all was darkness.
As the man emerged from the passage they sprang upon him simultaneously. Rex delivered a swift blow with his marlinspike, De Richleau snatched the light — the man dropped in a heap without a sound.
The Duke gave a great sigh of relief. “Light,” he exclaimed; “golden, glorious, life-giving light!”
“What shall I do with this bird?” asked Rex, pushing the body with his foot.
“Leave him,” said De Richleau briefly. “Poor devil, we cannot bother with him now.” Then, as the beam of the torch fell for a second upon the white blood-stained face of the crumpled figure at their feet, he stooped suddenly:
“Good God! It’s Richard Eaton.”