On the third occasion of my awaking, the obscure chamber was still occupied by white-robed figures, but the manipulation of my body had evidently ceased. Among those present I noticed an old man with a white beard, and some inches taller than his colleagues, who paid him special deference. I rightly conjectured this venerable person to be the Arch-priest, of whom d'Aragno had spoken, both from his evident superiority of rank and his more elaborate garments. I was still feeling very weak and languid, but after staring around me for some minutes with an effort I managed to raise my arm. The action was immediately noticed, whereupon the individual with the censer once more prepared to advance, but was checked by an imperious gesture from the Arch-priest. The latter now approached, and after peering long and steadfastly into my face he made a sign to the others present, and all but two left the room. He then signalled to me to rise, but though I attempted to do so, my physical weakness forbade me, and I sank back exhausted. The two junior priests thereupon firmly raised me in their arms, and half-walking, half-supported I was led out of the chamber to a further and a much larger room, in the centre of which I perceived a wide circular hollow space with steps descending, such as one sees in ancient Italian baptisteries. From this hollow there issued a great sound of gurgling and roaring, as well as a most horrible stench of chemicals, and as I was dragged none too willingly towards the edge I saw below me a pool of dark, sinister-looking, stinking water that was rising and falling in a constant state of ebullition. I made a feeble attempt to struggle, but the Arch-priest laid a firm grip upon my nerveless arm, whilst the two attendant priests hastily proceeded to hook a couple of chains to two stout rings inserted in the farther wall of the chamber. To these chains was attached a pair of strong leathern slings, which were now skilfully fastened beneath my arm-pits. Thus provided, I was pushed rather than persuaded to descend to the lowest step of the awesome basin, and was then unceremoniously thrust into its bubbling and hissing depths. Down, down, down I went into the icy surge, whose suction I could feel dragging me as violently as though a pair of giant hands beneath the water had hold of both my ankles. Then suddenly gasping and spluttering I was pulled up to the surface, only in spite of my protests to be once again lowered into that awful gelid fountain, whence again after a fearful interval of choking and shivering my body was withdrawn. On the third occasion, however, the two priests drew me towards the steps, and their master signed to me to quit the pool. I exerted myself only too eagerly, and with a nimbleness that amazed me I hastened up the steps towards the Arch-priest, who had been watching the whole gruesome rite with the most solemn air.