"But look!" he cried.
And he bent forward and compelled her also to stoop over the cavity. It
descended through three floors to the very lowest basement, like a well
of darkness. A damp odor arose: one could scarce distinguish the vague
outlines of thick ironwork; alone, right at the bottom, burnt a lantern,
a distant speck of light, as if the better to indicate the depth and
horror of the gulf. Morange and Constance drew back again blanching.
And now Morange burst into a temper. "It is idiotic!" he exclaimed. "Why
don't they obey the regulations! As a rule there is a man here, a man
expressly told off for this duty, who ought not to stir from his post so
long as the trap has not come up again. Where is he? What on earth can
the rascal be up to?"
The accountant again approached the hole, and shouted down it in a fury:
"Bonnard!"
No reply came: the pit remained bottomless, black and void.
"Bonnard! Bonnard!"
And still nothing was heard, not a sound; the damp breath of the darkness
alone ascended as from the deep silence of the tomb.
Thereupon Morange resorted to action. "I must go down; I must find
Bonnard. Can you picture us falling through that hole to the very bottom?
No, no, this cannot be allowed.
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