He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. ’ Gerald cast a swift look up the corridor, but there was no one there, not even a shadow. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. It was instantly burst open, when the horrible stench that issued from it convinced them that it must be a receptacle for the murdered victims of the thief-taker. The whole place had come to life, the magic seeped out of the walls.
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