My whole being leapt! An intense tremor rippled through me and I felt giddy. I stood still for a few moments, regaining my breath, stunned and almost afraid. I put down the shovel and bandaged my hands again to remove the last stones. Drops of perspiration fell from my forehead and I was quaking with impatience, but I continued to work slowly and methodically. Within three minutes, everything was clear: in front of me was a round metal cover, a metre in diameter, with a slightly rusty handle set off-centre. I picked up a screwdriver to free and raise it. Was I going to have to lift this heavy-looking plate? I was confused and almost in despair, telling myself that I probably wouldn’t have the strength, but I tugged at the handle just in case. I felt something move, I tugged again and found that the plate rotated on a horizontal axis, stiffly, and with a scraping sound, but it required no more strength than I had. It rose up, surrounded by a rim of steel, and I saw, at a depth of half a metre, a small ledge on which I could stand. I lowered myself in gingerly, my hands on the edges. As soon as I’d gained a foothold, I realised I was on the top step of a very narrow spiral staircase that was unlit. At that time, I’d never experienced the profound darkness of enclosed spaces, because the light never went out in the bunkers, but the women had spoken of switches. I felt along the wall. They hadn’t given a precise description, but I thought they must be small objects positioned near doors. I began groping my way down the stairs, and when I reached the third step I felt something small and smooth with a button. I pressed: a big light came on, just at my feet. The wall was grey and rough like the walls in the bunkers, but the staircases were never spiral like this, and you couldn’t control the light. I continued my descent, hurrying at first, but I think I’d only got to about the tenth step when I started feeling dizzy. I stopped, and, despite my impatience, forced myself to wait a few minutes until the giddiness had passed. As soon as I started moving again, it returned. Later, I was able to run up and down it, but that first time, even though I was consumed with curiosity, I had to stop several times. There were eighty open-work metal steps. At last I saw the floor, made of the same rough material as the walls. One last turn and I was at the bottom, in a corridor that was six or seven paces wide and twelve paces long, lined from top to bottom with shelves laden with cans, bottles and packets of all kinds, and closed at the end by a door of a very strange material that I had never seen before. It opened easily to reveal a big square room, which wasn’t grey and gloomy like the bunkers.