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.
Harry was crowding me from below, and we took the last few steps
almost at a run. Then the end, and we stumbled out into a blaze
of light and surveyed the surrounding scene with stupefaction and
wonder.
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