CHAPTER XVI.
BEFORE THE STATUE It was night -- dead night -- and the silence lay on the Frowning City like a cloud.
Secretly, as evildoers, Sir Henry Curtis, Umslopogaas, and myself threaded our way through the passages towards a by-entrance to the great Throne Chamber.

Once we were met by the fierce rattling challenge of the sentry.

I gave the countersign, and the man grounded his spear and let us pass.

Also we were officers of the Queens' bodyguard, and in that capacity had a right to come and go unquestioned.
We gained the hall in safety.

So empty and so still was it, that even when we had passed the sound of our footsteps yet echoed up the lofty walls, vibrating faintly and still more faintly against the carven roof, like ghosts of the footsteps of dead men haunting the place that once they trod.
It was an eerie spot, and it oppressed me.