With beating heart, Timokles pushed once more at the partition. It
remained firm. Trembling with the shock of his sudden entrapping,
Timokles looked toward the room's far end. It was as he thought. The
beast was not chained. The sleeping leopard's spotted hide heaved
softly yet, with undisturbed breathing, and as Timokles watched
across the space, he remembered the ominous words spoken to him on
his entrance into this building: "Go in, O Christian! Others have
gone before thee!"

For a time, overcome by the horror of his situation, Timokles leaned
against the partition, the door through which had so mysteriously
disappeared. His eyes, between quick glances at the sleeping
leopard, searched with desperate intensity every part of the room,
for some means of escape.

"Is there no place?" he questioned.

Stealthily he crossed the apartment, and felt of the opposite wall.
It was immovable. Nowhere in it could he discover any opening.

The beautiful beast, the waking of which meant so much to Timokles,
stirred a little. The claws of one foot were drawn up. Then the foot
was relaxed again. The leopard continued to slumber.

High above Timokles were two small windows, closed by wooden
shutters. The half-ruined flat roof showed holes here and there
where the old palm branches of its construction, covered with mats
and plastered with mud, had given way. Had it not been for these
holes in the roof, Timokles would hardly have had light enough to