suddenly directly before him stood Ah Ben.

"I thought you might need my assistance," he said quietly; and then
without appearing to notice Henley's astonishment, led the way to his
room.

When Paul found himself alone, he became conscious of a growing
curiosity concerning the stairs in the closet. He opened the door and
looked in, and then quietly lifted the scuttle by the ring. He peered
down into the darkness, but, as the stairs were winding, could
discern nothing for more than a half dozen steps below. He listened,
but the house was perfectly quiet, Ah Ben's retreating footsteps
having died upon the air. Somehow he half doubted the story which the
old man had told him about the original intention of the stairway as
a means of escape. It seemed improbable, and dated back to such a
remote period that he could not help feeling distrustful. Candle in
hand, he commenced to descend, looking carefully where he placed his
feet. As everywhere else, the woodwork was worm-eaten, and the
timbers set up a dismal creaking under the weight of his body, but he
had undertaken to investigate the meaning of this architectural
eccentricity, and would not now turn back. On he crept, noiselessly
as possible, adown the twisting stairs, carefully looking ahead for
pitfalls and unsuspected developments. Once he paused, thinking he
heard the distant tread of a foot, but the sound died away, and he
resumed his course. Some of the steps were so broken and rotten that
extreme caution was necessary to avoid falling. At last he reached
the ground, and found himself at the bottom of a square well, around
the four walls of which the stairs had been built. He was facing a
massive door, which occupied one of the sides of the well. Paul tried
the lock, but it was so old and rust-eaten that it refused to move.