It was not until a couple of days later, that I managed to get across to the Pit.  There, I found that, in my few weeks’ absence, there had been wrought a wondrous change.  Instead of the three-parts filled ravine, I looked out upon a great lake, whose placid surface, reflected the light, coldly.  The water had risen to within half a dozen feet of the Pit edge.  Only in one part was the lake disturbed, and that was above the place where, far down under the silent waters, yawned the entrance to the vast, underground Pit.  Here, there was a continuous bubbling; and, occasionally, a curious sort of sobbing gurgle would find its way up from the depth.  Beyond these, there was nothing to tell of the things that were hidden beneath.  As I stood there, it came to me how wonderfully things had worked out.  The entrance to the place whence the Swine-creatures had come, was sealed up, by a power that made me feel there was nothing more to fear from them.  And yet, with the feeling, there was a sensation that, now, I should never learn anything further, of the place from which those dreadful Things had come.  It was completely shut off and concealed from human curiosity forever.

Strange—­in the knowledge of that underground hell-hole—­how apposite has been the naming of the Pit.  One wonders how it originated, and when.  Naturally, one concludes that the shape and depth of the ravine would suggest the name ‘Pit.’  Yet, is it not possible that it has, all along, held a deeper significance, a hint—­could one but have guessed—­of the greater, more stupendous Pit that lies far down in the earth, beneath this old house?  Under this house!  Even now, the idea is strange and terrible to me.  For I have proved, beyond doubt, that the Pit yawns right below the house, which is evidently supported, somewhere above the center of it, upon a tremendous, arched roof, of solid rock.

It happened in this wise, that, having occasion to go down to the cellars, the thought occurred to me to pay a visit to the great vault, where the trap is situated; and see whether everything was as I had left it.

Reaching the place, I walked slowly up the center, until I came to the trap.  There it was, with the stones piled upon it, just as I had seen it last.  I had a lantern with me, and the idea came to me, that now would be a good time to investigate whatever lay under the great, oak slab.  Placing the lantern on the floor, I tumbled the stones off the trap, and, grasping the ring, pulled the door open.  As I did so, the cellar became filled with the sound of a murmurous thunder, that rose from far below.  At the same time, a damp wind blew up into my face, bringing with it a load of fine spray.  Therewith, I dropped the trap, hurriedly, with a half frightened feeling of wonder.

For a moment, I stood puzzled.  I was not particularly afraid.  The haunting fear of the Swine-things had left me, long ago; but I was certainly nervous and astonished.  Then, a sudden thought possessed me, and I raised the ponderous door, with a feeling of excitement.  Leaving it standing upon its end, I seized the lantern, and, kneeling down, thrust it into the opening.  As I did so, the moist wind and spray drove in my eyes, making me unable to see, for a few moments.  Even when my eyes were clear, I could distinguish nothing below me, save darkness, and whirling spray.