"What do you make of it?" he asked.
"It might be a cavern leading into the one that runs out to the face of
the cliff," I replied.
"But how are we to cross it?"
"I can't tell you. I'm afraid if we leave this opening that we'll get
lost."
It was rather plain that we would. The surrounding walls were as black
as the opening by which we had entered the place, and we stood with
quick-beating hearts staring out across the place through which the bars
of moonlight appeared like silver skewers.
One of these skewers fell upon a ledge of stone some few yards in front
of the spot where we were standing, and Holman stepped toward it.
"Stay where you are," he said. "If I get lost I'll whistle softly and
you can signal back to me."
He moved away and I was left standing in the opening. A bat banged
heavily against my face, and the odour from the dusty floor irritated my
nostrils so that I had difficulty in restraining myself from sneezing.
It was about twenty minutes before Holman returned. He whistled ever so
softly, and when I replied he came toward me hurriedly.
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