Doctor Who and the Planet of the Spiders

Sabor old chap... I do wish you’d be quiet. What I’m trying to
do... requires the utmost concentration.’
‘What are you trying to do?’
‘Little trick I learned from an old friend of mine... feller
named... what was it... Hopkins... no... Heatherington... no, that
wasn’t it. Got it! Houdini, Harry Houdini!’
To his amazement, Sabor saw that the Doctor’s head and
shoulders were beginning to emerge from the mouth of the
cocoon. Like a python changing its skin, the Doctor wriggled
out, further and further, until at last he was free. He struggled
out of the cocoon and got to his feet, stretching and trying to
massage his muscles into some kind of life. He crossed to Sabor
and tried to free him too, but the task was hopeless.
‘It’s no good, Sabor, I shall have to leave you. As soon as I
can, I’ll come back with one of those knives and set you free. Oh,
and if you hear the sound of fighting, give a jolly good yell. Your
son Arak and his merry men should be here soon.’ With a cheery
wave, the Doctor slipped out of the chamber.
In another part of the mountain, Sarah waited fearfully. She
was in a small, richly decorated chamber. Physically, she was in
better condition than she had been for some time. Silent women,
obviously slaves of the Spiders, had massaged her cramped limbs
back to life. They had brought her wine and fruit, and more
import-ant still, water and towels so that she could wash off the
grime of imprisonment. Then they had disappeared silently,
leaving her waiting. But waiting for what? Sarah hoped that it
hadn’t all been a Spider’s version of fattening up food and
dressing it for the table...
Suddenly, a huge Spider appeared in the doorway. She
scuttled across the floor and leaped on to a jewelled cushion.
Sarah cowered away.
The Spider spoke, in her high clear voice. ‘You have no
reason to fear me. I am the Queen. I am going to help you.’