"
And, suddenly seized with fresh anxiety, he moved the little red disk
of his lantern over the walls. In this way, he lit up a curious thing:
the trunk of a tree, which seemed still quite alive, with its leaves;
and the branches of that tree ran right up the walls and disappeared
in the ceiling.
Because of the smallness of the luminous disk, it was difficult
at first to make out the appearance of things: they saw a corner
of a branch...and a leaf...and another leaf...and,
next to it, nothing at all, nothing but the ray of light
that seemed to reflect itself....Raoul passed his hand over
that nothing, over that reflection.
"Hullo!" he said. "The wall is a looking-glass!"
"Yes, a looking-glass!" said the Persian, in a tone of deep emotion.
And, passing the hand that held the pistol over his moist forehead,
he added, "We have dropped into the torture-chamber!"
What the Persian knew of this torture-chamber and what there befell
him and his companion shall be told in his own words, as set down
in a manuscript which he left behind him, and which I copy VERBATIM.
Chapter XXI Interesting and Instructive Vicissitudes of a
Persian in the Cellars of the Opera
THE PERSIAN'S NARRATIVE
It was the first time that I entered the house on the lake.
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