Taking up a link, which was blazing beside him, he walked across the room; and touching a spring in the wall, a secret door flew open. She visualized him as in a policeman’s uniform and quite impassive. "Stand aside, Tom," commanded Kneebone. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps.
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