Two hundred paces, and a flight of steps rose before him, up which he made his way with difficulty, owing to the armour which encased his limbs. But he accomplished it at length. Mounting the last step, he found that an apparently blank wall of rock barred further progress. “That’s queer,” he mused, “there must be a door somewhere, or what would be the use of these steps?” Carefully he searched for a spring or other mechanical contrivance, feeling certain that there was a secret doorway somewhere in the wall. Almost every inch of the rock he examined, pressing his fingers into each crevice, touching every tiny irregularity in its surface, yet with no result. The rocky barrier refused to yield up its secret. At last, weary and discouraged, he turned and retraced his steps to the armoury, deciding to return to the chamber of the dead, and there seek some other outlet. As he picked his way amid the scattered weapons, he accidentally kicked a small jewelled casket which lay among them. The lid of this leapt open, disclosing a discoloured parchment scroll which lay within. With no other thought but curiosity, Seymour extracted the scroll and attempted to decipher the faded hieroglyphics with which its surface was covered. But the task was beyond him. Not so thoroughly familiar with the Ayuti language and writings as Mervyn, Seymour was baffled by what would have proved an easy task to the scientist. He was about to return the parchment to its case, when, turning it over, he discovered that upon the reverse side was a roughly-drawn map. This he studied for some time, puzzled by the strange lines and stranger figures, until enlightenment came to him. It was a plan of the subterranean chambers in which he had been wandering for so long. At once the thing became of importance, and he applied himself to a closer scrutiny of it, hoping to find traced thereon the way out of his present prison. Ere long his search was rewarded. The flight of steps leading up to the blank wall was clearly drawn, and upon the third step from the top was a peculiar mark--a tiny eye. “The secret!” he cried triumphantly; and, returning the parchment to its casket, he thrust both into the breast of his suit, then once more mounted the steps. Here, however, a disappointment awaited him. There was no mark upon the step resembling that upon the plan. Again he drew forth the scroll, studying it with an even greater care. The result was the same. It was undoubtedly the third step upon which the eye was drawn; yet that same step in the flight, he knew, had no mark of any description. Then an idea struck him. Perhaps if he counted from the bottom he might find the mark? He did so, and soon discovered the cause of his mistake. Upon the map only twenty-five steps were drawn, while in the flight itself there were thirty.