Alan was thinking deeply on the situation they were in, when his eyes were caught by the scar on the roof. “I wonder,” said he suddenly, “I wonder if there is a way out—there.” “Where?” asked Desmond. Alan jerked his head in the direction of the scar. “It would be madness to try and find out,” said he. “The ledges of rock are not strong enough to bear one—don’t think of risking your life in such a foolish adventure.” And indeed it seemed almost impossible. The walls of the cavern were jagged and rough, and in many places overhung in a dangerous manner. To climb to the roof would have made even an experienced Alpine climber think twice before he attempted it, and to one inexperienced in such feats it seemed like courting death. “You wouldn’t try,” Desmond urged. He knew Alan of old, and feared for him. Alan laughed. “Is it likely?” was all he said. But all the same the thought remained in his mind, and his brain was working. It was time to go to sleep. They had supped off the roots of mautzer, and had drunk the liquid from the stems of the elers, and felt refreshed. Jez-Riah was already breathing softly, and Desmond was talking in fitful gusts with drowsy interludes between. Of the three, Alan alone was wide awake. He answered Desmond quietly, and he at last dropped off to sleep too. For some time Alan remained quite quiet, afraid lest a tiny movement of his might awaken either of his companions. Then Jez-Riah’s breath came in deep, indrawn sighs, and Desmond lay with one hand over his head and his lips slightly apart. Alan looked at them both closely—they were fast asleep. Stealthily he rose and stepped past the sleepers through the low way into the Tomb of Korah. He moved with purpose, for his plans were all carefully thought out. High up in the roof, at the farthest right hand corner, the scar seemed its widest. Quickly he walked toward it, and without a backward glance began a long, dangerous and arduous climb. The rocks were slippery, and the foothold almost nothing, yet with tenacious pluck he kept on until his fingers were lacerated and his limbs ached. Pulling himself up by the jagged pieces of rock, he came closer to the roof. Once only he looked below, and his heart pumped and his head swam as he saw the depths beneath. After that he kept his eyes bent upward, and he did not stop until he could touch the roof itself. There was a little ledge, three feet from the top, which was big enough for him to sit on fairly comfortably, and his breath came in hard gasps as he rested.