A dark room; no light except from a trap door; a very proper place for improper doings.

At one end rose a large, square block of red sandstone, on which was carved a round face environed by rays, probably representing the sun.

Aunt Maria remembered the sacrificial altars of the Aztecs, and judged that the old sanguinary religion of Tenochtitlan was not yet extinct.

She became more convinced of this terrific fact when she discovered that the red tint of the stone was deepened in various places by stains which resembled blood.
Three or four horrible suggestions arose in succession to jerk at her heartstrings.

Were these Moquis still in the habit of offering human sacrifices?
Would a woman answer their purpose, and particularly a white woman?
If they should catch her there, in the presence of their deity, would they consider it a leading of Providence?
Aunt Maria, notwithstanding her curiosity and courage, began to feel a desire to retreat.
Her reflections were interrupted and her emotions accelerated by darkness.
Evidently the door had been shut; then she heard a rustling of approaching feet and an awful whispering; then projected hands impeded her gropings toward safety.