It was but just in time.  One step more and she would have fallen down the mouth of a deep pit.  Once it had been covered with a stone, but this stone was removed, and had never been replaced.  Look! there it stood against the wall of the chamber.  Well was this for Benita, since her frail strength would not have sufficed to stir that massive block, even if she had discovered its existence beneath the dust.

Now she saw that down the pit ran another ladderlike stair of stone, very narrow and precipitous.  Without hesitation she began its descent.  Down she went and down—­one hundred steps, two hundred steps, two hundred and seventy-five steps, and all the way wherever the dust had gathered the man’s and the woman’s footprints ran before her.  There was a double line of them, one line going down and the other line returning.  Those that returned were the last, for often they appeared over those that descended.  Why had these dead people returned, Benita wondered.

The stair had ended; now she was in a kind of natural cave, for its sides and roof were rugged; moreover, water trickled and dripped from them.  It was not very large, and it smelt horribly of mud and other things.  Again she searched by the feeble light of her candle, but could see no exit.  Suddenly she saw something else, however, for stepping on what she took to be a rock, to her horror it moved beneath her.  She heard a snap as of jaws, a violent blow upon the leg nearly knocked her off her feet, and as she staggered backwards she saw a huge and loathsome shape rushing away into the darkness.  The rock that she had trodden on was a crocodile which had its den here!  With a little scream she retreated to her stair.  Death she had expected—­but to be eaten by crocodiles!

Yet as Benita stood there panting a blessed hope rose in her breast.  If a crocodile came in there it must also get out, and where such a great creature could go, a woman would be able to follow.  Also, she must be near the water, since otherwise it could never have chosen this hole for its habitation.  She collected her courage, and having clapped her hands and waved the lantern about to scare any alligators that might still be lurking there, hearing and seeing nothing more, she descended to where she had trodden upon the reptile.  Evidently this was its bed, for its long body had left an impress upon the mud, and all about lay the remains of creatures that it had brought in for food.  Moreover, a path ran outwards, its well-worn trail distinct even in that light.

She followed this path, which ended apparently in a blank wall.  Then it was that Benita guessed why those dead folks’ footprints had returned, for here had been a doorway which in some past age those who used it built up with blocks of stone and cement.  How, then, did the crocodile get out?  Stooping down she searched, and perceived, a few yards to the right of the door, a hole that looked as though it were water-worn.  Now Benita thought that she