"The bottom!" he called back suddenly. "From now the going is easy,
until we rise again. We pass now under the city-wall."
But they could see nothing and hear nothing except their own footfalls
swishing in the ooze beneath them. Even the priest's words seemed
to be lost at once, as though he spoke into a blanket, for the air
they breathed was thicker than a mist and just as damp. They walked
on, along a level, wet, stone passage for at least five minutes, feeling
their way with one band on the wall.
"Steps, now!" said the priest. "Have a care, now, for the lower ones
are slippery."
Ruth was regaining consciousness. She began to move and tried once
or twice to speak.
"Here, thou!" growled the Risaldar. "Thou art a younger man than I--
come back here. Help with the memsahib."
The priest came back a step or two, but Suliman declined his aid,
snarling vile insults at him.
"I can manage!" he growled. "Get thou behind me, Mahommed Khan,
in case I slip!"
So Mahommed Khan came last, and they slipped and grunted upward,
round and round a spiral staircase that was hewn out of solid rock.
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