Both ways looked alike to me. Hesitating a moment, I drew a coin from my pocket. If the Queen's head fell uppermost, I would go to the right; if the reverse, to the left. I tossed the coin into the air and bent over it as it fell. It had fallen upon its face, and turning to the left, I passed on down the path about one hundred and fifty feet more. I stopped again. Before me, shining down from the top of the rock overhead, a few yards away, there gleamed a light. Moving cautiously forward, I blew out my candle, and in a moment came upon a flight of stone steps. Looking up, I could see that what had appeared to me to be a light was simply an opening in the wall above me, which led into a lighted room. Ascending the steps, I stood in the bed-chamber of DeNortier. I had never been in it before. It was the only room in the house, so far as I knew, that I had never entered; but the door was always fastened when I tried it, and I could find no key that would fit the lock. Heavy tapestry lined the walls, and as I stood in the room I was concealed from view by the embroidered arras, which hung directly in front of the trap-door, hiding it from the sight of the occupants of the chamber. The floor was of polished wood, as was the rest of the house, and bending down I closed the aperture through which I had come, noting as I did so how cunningly it fitted into the wood, so as to be indiscernible to the eye. A thought struck me. I had best leave the trap-door ajar; it might be that those who had left it open might wish to go through it again. It would arouse suspicion were it found closed. Bending down I endeavored to again open the door, but in vain. It was evidently worked by some secret spring, and desisting from the vain attempt, I peered through the hangings into the brilliantly lighted room. The same golden candelabra suspended from the wall; the same heavy, elegant furniture and luxurious couches; the same soft rugs and skins upon the floors; even the identical odor of flowers, tropical and sweet-scented. Upon a little table stood a bottle of that same delicious nectar that I had drunk before; even the very golden goblets were there, from which DeNortier and I, and also Father Francis, had sipped the amber juice. I had not tasted such wine as that since the fat priest had drunk with me, that night which had proved so near his undoing. DeNortier had sailed the next day, where, I did not know; the burly Francis I had not seen since, until this evening in the cave; only Herrick, the grim, with a few hardy ruffians, had remained behind. I had already stepped into the room, thinking to let myself out of the door and into the great hall, when the soft thud of approaching footsteps caused me to dodge back behind the friendly tapestry. A key grated in the lock; the door swung open, and I heard the tread of footsteps across the threshold.