The end was in sight.
Just as I reached the foot of the spiral stairway I saw a black
form descending from it. That Inca never knew what hit him. I did
not use my spear; time was too precious. He disappeared in the
whirlpool beneath the base of the column through which Harry and
I had once miraculously escaped.
But despair filled my heart as, with my feet on the first step of
the spiral stairway, I cast a quick glance upward. The upper half
of the inside of the column was a raging furnace of fire. How or
from what it came I did not stop to inquire; I bounded up the
stairway in desperate fury.
I did not know then that the stone steps were baking and
blistering my feet; I did not know, as I came level with the base
of the flames, that every hair was being singed from my head and
body--I only knew that I must reach the top of the column.
Then I saw the source of the flames as I reached them. Huge vats
of oil--six, a dozen, twenty--I know not how many--were ranged in
a circle on a ledge of stone encircling the column, and from
their tops the fire leaped upward to a great height. I saw what
must be done; how I did it God only knows; I shut my eyes now as
I remember it.
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