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378
The Red Mist

head—the fellow who had been at the window, no doubt—and jumped from the platform to the floor. My eyes surveyed those contracted surroundings curiously. The candle, a mere fragment, burned dimly in one corner, revealing what appeared to be the interior of a huge box, with a platform built half across it, its outer edge protected by a low rail. The wood was damp, and water-soaked, half way up, but there was no unpleasant odor. A small wheel ingeniously arranged to operate a lever, occupied one end of the platform, and directly across was an opening in the side wall next the floor, barely large enough for a man's body to squeeze into. Nothing else was visible; no evidence left of the two who had already passed that way.

I slipped down the steps, and lowered my body silently to the damp floor. An instant I peered into the dark hole, satisfied that I could make the passage, and then extinguished the light. The conduit was stone-lined, but the blocks had been smoothly set, and, I knew, from the crisp freshness of the air, that the distance to be traversed was short. I entered the hole head first, dragging and pushing with hands and feet, eager to get quickly into the open. My body so blocked the opening that I felt stifled, nor could I perceive any gleam of light ahead, yet the passage was not really a difficult one, and almost