truck me as being exceedingly curious, with its
elegant spiral. The bushes bristling in the fissures at every step, the
deserted aspect of its surroundings, all harmonized with my sadness. We
descended, and soon the luminous point of the opening, which seemed to
contract more and more, and to take the shape of a star with curved
rays, alone sent us its pale light. When we attained the very bottom of
the cistern, we found a superb sight was to be had of all those steps,
lighted from above and cutting off their shadows with marvelous
precision. I then heard the hum of which I have already spoken: the
immense granite conch had as many echoes as stones!

"Has nobody been down here since the little man?" I asked the rural
guardsman.

"No, sir. The peasants are afraid. They imagine that the hanged man
will return."

"And you?"

"I--oh, I'm not curious."

"But the justice of the peace? His duty was to--"

"Ha! What could he have come to the _Owl's Ear_ for?"

"They call this the _Owl's Ear_?"

"Yes."

"That's pretty near it," said I, raising my eyes. "This reversed vault
forms the _pavilion_ well enough; the under side of the steps makes the
covering of the _tympanum_, and the winding of the staircase the
_cochlea_, the _labyrinth_, and _vestibule_ of the ear. That is the
cause of the murmur which we hear: we are at the back of a colossal
ear."

"It's very likely," said Hans Goerner, who did not seem to have
understood my observations.

We started up again, and I had ascended the first steps when I felt
something crush under my foot; I stopped to see what it could be, and
at that moment perceived a white object before me. It was a torn sheet
of paper. As for the hard object, which I had felt grinding up, I
recognized it as a sort of glazed earthenware jug.

"Aha!" I said to myself; "this may clear up the burgomaster's story."

I rejoined Hans Goerner, who was now waiting for me at the edge of the
pit.

"Now, sir," cried he, "where would you like to go?"

"First, let's sit down for a while. We shall see presently."

I sat down on a large stone, while the rural guard cast his falcon
eyes over the village to see if there chanced to be any trespassers in
the gardens. I carefully examined the glazed vase, of which nothing
but splinters remained. These fragments presented the appearance of a
funnel, lined with wool. It was impossible for me to perceive its
purpose. I then read the piece of a letter, written in