Had he been the king's friend, St. George was asking--but
why did no one know anything of him? Or had he been an enemy who had
done the king violence--but how was that possible, in his age and
feebleness? Mystifying as the matter was, St. George exulted as much
as he marveled; for it would be his, at all events, to place the
jewels in Olivia's hands and clear her father's name; he longed to
step out of the dark and confront the old man and seize the casket
out of hand, and he would probably have done so and taken his
chances at getting back to the upper world, had he not been chained
to his corner by the irresistible hope that the old man knew
something more--something about the king. And while he wondered,
reflecting that at any cost he must prevent the replacing of the
pivotal stone, he saw old Malakh take up his taper, turn away from
the table, and open a door which the room's central pillar had cut
from his view.
He was around the table in an instant. The open door revealed three
stone steps which the old man was ascending, one at a time.
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