“The front is unguarded surely,” I admitted gravely, “but do not feel confident that there are no occupants within.  If I mistake not, we have stumbled upon the very spot whence the priests signal down to the valley the rising and setting of the sun.”

“I never witnessed such ceremony, yet to my mind it would be far pleasanter going forward than lying here on the hard rock.”

Realizing the truth of his comment, yet muttering over my shoulder a word of caution, I began crawling forward into the interior.  No sign of human presence appeared, and I ventured to stand upright.  The cavern possessed a wide opening, with a broad platform of rock extending well out beyond the face of the cliff.  Along the edge I could observe the rather dim outlines of an immense altar, built of detached stones, rising to a considerable height, and partially blocking the entrance.  From below it might serve to conceal the mouth of the cave.  This obstruction shut off much of the moon’s light, rendering the interior intensely dark.  We were compelled to grope our way forward with hands pressed against the walls.  I had not advanced more than thirty feet, my every nerve tingling, when I saw the ruddy reflection of a fire, hitherto completely concealed by a sharp turn in the tunnel.  Rounding this abrupt point we found ourselves in a large room capable of containing upwards of three hundred persons.  This chamber was partly natural in formation, but, as I discovered later, had been considerably enlarged by artificial means.  So high was it that, in the dim light, I could scarcely distinguish its vaulted roof, while its length was hidden in the darkness.  In the very centre of this apartment arose a great pile of irregular rock, flattened and hollowed along the top, where was burning a vast log, the smoke ascending straight upward, evidently finding outlet above.  The light, red and yellow, flared and flickered upon the surrounding bare gray walls, nothing else arresting the eye except a second wide rock platform close to where we crouched.  This was partially concealed by a great mat of coarsely woven scarlet cloth, which brought to me a conjecture that here, perhaps, the Queen was throned.

Wherever there was fire burning there must, of necessity, be attendants to feed the flame, but I could detect no sign of life, no sign of any kind, other than the crackling of the blazing log, and the heavy breathing of my companion.  The silence oppressed me.

“Go to the right,” I advised at last, nervous from inaction, “I will try the left, until we meet again.  Keep close against the wall, and move with care.”

“’Tis not wholly unlike a visit to hell,” he muttered gloomily, “but I am weary of lying shivering here.”