The Trap Is Sprung

How long has it been? Certainly more than an hour. Your limbs are weary and stiff. Your nerves are worked up to the highest pitch of tension. Your hearing is so focused that you can hear the gentle breathing of your companions.

Your eyes catch the glint of a light in the direction of the floor. At first it is but a spark upon the pavement.

It lengthens out until it becomes a yellow line. Then, without any warning or sound, a gash seems to open in the stone. A hand appears. It feels around for a moment and is withdrawn quickly. All is dark again except the single spark, which marks a chink between the stones.

With a tearing sound, one of the white floor stones turns over upon its side. It leaves a square, gaping hole, and through it streams the light of a lantern. A boyish face peeps up over the edge. The young man looks around, and then he lifts himself shoulder-high and waist-high, until one knee rests upon the edge. In another instant he stands at the side of the hole. He turns and hauls up his companion, thin and small like himself, with a pale face and very red hair.

“It’s all clear,” he whispers.

The time is now. You must make your move.