I
was aware that Paton was standing at the narrow end of the room,
waiting for me: Yes--there he was, or the impression of him in my
brain--what did it matter? I arose mechanically and walked toward him.
He had no need to direct me: I knew all there was to do, and how to do
it. I knelt on the floor, laid my shoulder against the pilaster, and
pushed it laterally. It moved aside on a pivot, disclosing an iron ring
let into the floor. I laid hold of this ring, and lifted. A section of
the floor came up, and I saw a sort of ladder descending
perpendicularly into darkness. Down the ladder Paton went, and I
followed him. Arrived at the bottom, I turned to the left, led by an
instinct or a fascination; passed along a passage barely wide enough to
admit me, until I came against a smooth, hard surface. I passed my hand
over it until I touched a knob or catch, which I pressed, and the
surface gave way before me like a door. I stumbled forward, and found
myself in a room of what was doubtless Herr Kragendorf's apartment. A
keen, cold air smote against my face; and with it came a sudden influx
of strength and self-possession.
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