As we walked, the seven columns of rays streaming down from the crystalline globes high above us waned steadily; the glow within the chamber lost its prismatic shimmer and became an even grey tone somewhat like moonlight in a thin cloud.
Now before us, out from the wall, jutted a low terrace.

It was all of a pearly rose-coloured stone, slender, graceful pillars of the same hue.

The face of the terrace was about ten feet high, and all over it ran a bas-relief of what looked like short-trailing vines, surmounted by five stalks, on the tip of each of which was a flower.
We passed along the terrace.

It turned in an abrupt curve.

I heard a hail, and there, fifty feet away, at the curving end of a wall identical with that where we stood, were Larry and Marakinoff.
Obviously the left side of the chamber was a duplicate of that we had explored.