"Yes," I said, stopping and gazing at that strange dim mass; "it goes clear across. "And," I added, "that's the place, over there on the other side--that's where they are waiting for us!" Chapter 19 THE ANGEL AND HER DEMON "I shouldn't be a bit surprised," said Milton Rhodes. "And a strange bridge, that, truly. It looks like a ruin, a ruin that has not fallen." It looked like a ruin indeed. So ruinous did it appear that I wondered how the mass could possibly remain intact. A short advance, however, and the mystery was solved. The hand of man had not builded that great arch across this dreadful chasm; Nature had fashioned it, there in that region of everlasting darkness. It has, Rhodes said, a remarkable semblance to the celebrated Natural Bridge in Virginia. A short space, and we stood upon it, gazing across. Its width here was about sixty feet. The surface was, comparatively speaking, a smooth one, and it had a rather pronounced slope upwards--a circumstance by no means conducive to security of footing. And a feature that I noticed with some unpleasant misgivings was the diminution of width at the farther end. Just how wide it was there we could not tell, what with the uncertain light that struggled to the spot; but we saw enough to know that that way which we should have to cross was a very narrow one indeed; and on either side was the black chasm yawning to receive us. And just beyond, dim and ghostly as though seen in a dream, stupendous columns rose up and were involved in the darkness of the lofty cavern. "What on earth are those?" I queried. "It reminds one of a Grecian temple." "Limestone pillars, no doubt," returned Milton. "And it's there," I exclaimed, my voice, however, low and guarded, "that they are waiting for us! That, I have no doubt now, is where those lights were." "I think it very likely, Bill." "They'll wait," said I, "until we get in that cursed narrow place, and then--" "And then?" "And then," I told him, "we had better say our prayers before we start across." Rhodes laughed. I thought, though, that there was a touch of the sardonic in the laugh. Little wonder, forsooth, if 'twas so, for the thing was fraught with some terrible possibilities. "What," I asked, "are we going to do now?" "Cross over--that is, if we are permitted to do so." If we should be permitted to do so! I gazed into the black profundity of the chasm, and I tell you that I certainly did not feel happy. "Why," I asked, "didn't we bring a parachute along? I have an idea that we'll wish before very many minutes that we had done so." "It is possible," said Rhodes, and his voice and mien were grave, "that we shall. However, Bill, it is cross over--or give the whole thing up and go back." "Go back? Never!" "My sentiments to a T, Bill.