showed that they were winding into the core or belly of some
enormous building. After a little time the glazed corridors began
to be lit by electricity.

At last, when they had walked nearly a mile in those white and
polished tunnels, they came with quite a shock to the futile
finality of a cul-de-sac. All that white and weary journey ended
suddenly in an oblong space and a blank white wall. But in the
white wall there were two iron doors painted white on which were
written, respectively, in neat black capitals B and C.

"You go in here, sir," said the leader of the officials, quite
respectfully, "and you in here."

But before the doors had clanged upon their dazed victims, MacIan
had been able to say to Turnbull with a strange drawl of
significance: "I wonder who A is."

Turnbull made an automatic struggle before he allowed himself to
be thrown into the cell. Hence it happened that he was the last
to enter, and was still full of the exhilaration of the
adventures for at least five minutes after the echo of the
clanging door had died away.

Then, when silence had sunk deep and nothing happened for two and
a half hours, it suddenly occurred to him that this was the end
of his life. He was hidden and sealed up in this little crack of
stone until the flesh should fall off his bones. He was dead, and
the world had won.