You can see for yourself that it is difficult, but
every one of these passages divides and subdivides a dozen times before
you go a hundred yards." They had descended some twenty feet from the level of the byre, and
they were standing now in a square chamber cut out of the soft tufa. The lantern cast a flickering light, bright below and dim above, over
the cracked brown walls. In every direction were the black openings of
passages which radiated from this common centre. "I want you to follow me closely, my friend," said Burger. "Do not
loiter to look at anything upon the way, for the place to which I will
take you contains all that you can see, and more. It will save time
for us to go there direct." He led the way down one of the corridors, and the Englishman followed
closely at his heels. Every now and then the passage bifurcated, but
Burger was evidently following some secret marks of his own, for he
neither stopped nor hesitated. Everywhere along the walls, packed like
the berths upon an emigrant ship, lay the Christians of old Rome. The
yellow light flickered over the shrivelled features of the mummies, and
gleamed upon rounded skulls and long, white armbones crossed over
fleshless chests. And everywhere as he passed Kennedy looked with
wistful eyes upon inscriptions, funeral vessels, pictures, vestments,
utensils, all lying as pious hands had placed them so many centuries
ago. It was apparent to him, even in those hurried, passing glances,
that this was the earliest and finest of the catacombs, containing such
a storehouse of Roman remains as had never before come at one time
under the observation of the student. "What would happen if the light went out?" he asked, as they hurried
onwards. "I have a spare candle and a box of matches in my pocket. By the way,
Kennedy, have you any matches?" "No; you had better give me some." "Oh, that is all right. There is no chance of our separating." "How far are we going? It seems to me that we have walked at least a
quarter of a mile." "More than that, I think. There is really no limit to the tombs--at
least, I have never been able to find any. This is a very difficult
place, so I think that I will use our ball of string." He fastened one end of it to a projecting stone and he carried the coil
in the breast of his coat, paying it out as he advanced. Kennedy saw
that it was no unnecessary precaution, for the passages had become more
complex and tortuous than ever, with a perfect network of intersecting
corridors. But these all ended in one large circular hall with a
square pedestal of tufa topped with a slab of marble at one end of it. "By Jove!" cried Kennedy in an ecstasy, as Burger swung his lantern
over the marble. "It is a Christian altar--probably the first one in
existence. Here is the little consecration cross cut upon the corner
of it. No doubt this circular space was used as a church." "Precisely," said Burger. "If I had more time I should like to show
you all the bodies which are buried in these niches upon the walls, for
they are the early popes and bishops of the Church, with their mitres,
their croziers, and full canonicals. Go over to that one and look at
it!" Kennedy went across, and stared at the ghastly head which lay loosely
on the shredded and mouldering mitre. "This is most interesting," said he, and his voice seemed to boom
against the concave vault. "As far as my experience goes, it is
unique. Bring the lantern over, Burger, for I want to see them all." But the German had strolled away, and was standing in the middle of a
yellow circle of light at the other side of the hall. "Do you know how many wrong turnings there are between this and the
stairs?" he asked. "There are over two thousand. No doubt it was one
of the means of protection which the Christians adopted. The odds are
two thousand to one against a man getting out, even if he had a light;
but if he were in the dark it would, of course, be far more difficult." "So I should think." "And the darkness is something dreadful. I tried it once for an
experiment. Let us try it again!" He stooped to the lantern, and in
an instant it was as if an invisible hand was squeezed tightly over
each of Kennedy's eyes. Never had he known what such darkness was. It
seemed to press upon him and to smother him. It was a solid obstacle
against which the body shrank from advancing. He put his hands out to
push it back from him. "That will do, Burger," said he, "let's have the light again." But his companion began to laugh, and in that circular room the sound
seemed to come from every side at once. "You seem uneasy, friend Kennedy," said he. "Go on, man, light the candle!" said Kennedy impatiently. "It's very strange, Kennedy, but I could not in the least tell by the
sound in which direction you stand. Could you tell where I am?" "No; you seem to be on every side of me." "If it were not for this string which I hold in my hand I should not
have a notion which way to go." "I dare say not. Strike a light, man, and have an end of this
nonsense." "Well, Kennedy, there are two things which I understand that you are
very fond of. The one is an adventure, and the other is an obstacle to
surmount. The adventure must be the finding of your way out of this
catacomb. The obstacle will be the darkness and the two thousand wrong
turns which make the way a little difficult to find. But you need not
hurry, for you have plenty of time, and when you halt for a rest now
and then, I should like you just to think of Miss Mary Saunderson, and
whether you treated her quite fairly." "You devil, what do you mean?" roared Kennedy. He was running about in
little circles and clasping at the solid blackness with both hands. "Good-bye," said the mocking voice, and it was already at some
distance. "I really do not think, Kennedy, even by your own showing
that you did the right thing by that girl. There was only one little
thing which you appeared not to know, and I can supply it. Miss
Saunderson was engaged to a poor ungainly devil of a student, and his
name was Julius Burger." There was a rustle somewhere, the vague sound of a foot striking a
stone, and then there fell silence upon that old Christian church--a
stagnant, heavy silence which closed round Kennedy and shut him in like
water round a drowning man. Some two months afterwards the following paragraph made the round of
the European Press:


"One of the most interesting discoveries of recent years is that of the
new catacomb in Rome, which lies some distance to the east of the
well-known vaults of St. Calixtus. The finding of this important
burial-place, which is exceeding rich in most interesting early
Christian remains, is due to the energy and sagacity of Dr. Julius
Burger, the young German specialist, who is rapidly taking the first
place as an authority upon ancient Rome. Although the first to publish
his discovery, it appears that a less fortunate adventurer had
anticipated Dr. Burger.