Being thrust into these dungeons, Ramey discovered, was unlike being imprisoned in the cell-block of a modern--a 20th Century--jail. Here were no neat, ordered individual cells, no runways with pacing guards, no blazing lights, no clean, steel avenues astringent with the odor of disinfectant. When the gate clanged shut behind him, darkness surged in to engulf him in a maw of ebon velvet; his feet slipped on damp masonry, and for a moment a sense of panic fear, instinctive, unreasoning, gripped him. In that moment he was glad of the presence of Sheng-ti. For nothing could disturb the smooth complaisance of the aged _bonze_. His hand, upholding Ramey, was warm and serene, his voice reassuring. "Peace, my son! We are at least alone, and in solitude is strength." Ramey grinned at him, an invisible grin to an invisible companion. "Thanks, old man," he said. "I guess it's the dark. I went into a tail-spin for a second." "It is written," said Sheng-ti, "that darkness is naught but the shadow of the gods. Yet, behold! Even now it is not dark. See--in the distance?" Now that his eyes had accustomed themselves to gloom Ramey saw that, indeed, there was a faint smudge of light before him. By it he recognized that they stood at the threshold of but one of a numberless series of connected chambers; high, vaulted caverns, sturdywalled and windowless, supported by massive columns which might have been hewn from solid rock. Now, completely in possession of himself again, it was Ramey who took the initiative. He gripped his friend's arm, propelling him forward. "Where there is light," he said, "there must be men. These dungeons are not tenantless. Come on!" And together they picked their way, on feet rapidly growing more sure, toward the faraway smudge. As they drew nearer its source, they discovered that the illumination came from guttering candles, and from small bonfires over which, like so many wraiths huddling from the frightful chill of Limbo, hunkered the figures of other prisoners. Many were these, and of all races. Earthmen and Videlians alike were the exiles of this abandoned gaol. They did not mingle together, but in little clans: groups similar in color or in creed, in physiognomy or faith. Although they shared an identical fate, it was evident by the angry glances which passed between one group and another, by the bickering of individual leaders, that there was strife and distrust between these companies. An example of this smouldering hatred showed itself as Ramey and Sheng-ti considered which of the groups it were best they should approach. * * * * * The apparent leader of one tiny clan, a tall, strong-thewed earthman whose race Ramey would have identified tentatively as Coptic, had been muttering to himself audibly. Now he rose to his full height, swift decision seeming to fan to a blaze the long-contained flame within him.