by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XVI
LOST IN A PREHISTORIC MINE
After the disappearance of the young rider, whose coming had somaterially changed the plan of Rothsky and his associate scoundrels,they gazed at each other for a full minute in sullen silence. In theminds of two of them the anger of their disappointment was mingledwith a cowardly terror at the awful deed they had committed, and theybegan fiercely to denounce their leader for having implicated them init.
Rothsky answered with equal bitterness that he was no more to blamethan they, and the quarrel grew so furious that for a time it seemedas though only the shedding of blood could settle it. At length theywere quieted by a realizing sense of the common danger that might onlybe averted by mutual support. So they finally swore with strange oathsnever to betray each other, or breathe a word to a living soul of whathad just taken place.
Of course they did not for a moment anticipate that their crime wouldever come to light, though each was secretly determined that if it didhe would promptly secure his own safety by denouncing his comrades.
With the patching up of this truce and the forming of their worthlesscompact the three wretches prepared to depart from the scene of theirvillany. First, however, they advanced cautiously as close as theydared to the edge of the pit into which they had flung their victim,and, peering into its blackness, listened fearfully. No sound brokethe awful silence, and of a sudden the three men, moved by a commonimpulse, turned and fled through the darkness, stumbling and falling,clutched at by invisible fingers as they ran, and utteringinarticulate cries of terror.
At that same moment their victim was lying on a ledge of rock deepdown in the ground beneath them, still alive, but numbed almost intounconsciousness by the hopeless horror of his situation. In the firstagony of falling he had instinctively exerted a strength of which hewould have been incapable under other circumstances, and burst asunderthe bonds confining his arms.
He believed that in a moment he would be dashed into eternity, and yeta medley of incongruous and commonplace thoughts darted through hismind with inconceivable rapidity. Innumerable scenes of his past lifeglanced before him, but more distinct than any, sharp and clear asthough revealed by a flash of lightning, shone the wonderful eyes thathad appeared to him from the red-stained cliffs overlooking the greatlake. And, strangest of all, the face seemed to smile at him with apromise of hope.
In another instant all the pictures were blotted out, and his wholeworld was gulfed by a rush of water in which he sank to fathomlessdepths.
After an endless space of time he began slowly to rise, until atlength, to his infinite amazement, he found himself still alive andgasping for a breath of the blessed air into which he had once moreemerged.
Although his ankles were still bound, his arms were free, and, withthe instinct of self-preservation strong within him, he began,awkwardly and feebly, to swim. Dazed, fettered, and weighted byclothing as he was, his utmost efforts would not have carried him morethan a few feet, and then he must have sunk forever in that blackflood. But the strength given him was sufficient, and ere it wasexhausted his hands struck a shelf of rock upon which he finallymanaged to drag himself.
On the flinty platform that he thus gained he lay weakly motionless,chilled to the bone, dimly conscious that he had for a time beengranted a respite from death, but without a hope that it would be muchlonger extended.
After a while the sense that he still lived became stronger, and withit grew the desire for life. Animated by it he sat up and made aneffort to loosen the cord that still bound his ankles. It was tightlyknotted, and the knot was so hardened with the water that for a longtime his trembling fingers could make no impression on it. Still hepersevered, and his exertions infused him with a slight warmth.Finally the knot yielded and his limbs were free, though so numbedthat it was several minutes before he could stand up.
Knowing nothing of his surroundings he dared not move more than a stepor two in any direction for fear of again plunging into that deadlywater. Nor could he with outstretched arms touch a wall on any side.
"Oh, for a light!" he groaned, "that I might at least see what my tomblooks like!"
Then he remembered that he actually did possess both matches and acandle, it having been impressed upon him by old Mark Trefethen that aminer should never be without those necessities. So he had alwayscarried them in a pocket of his canvas mining-suit. But were they notrendered useless by the double wetting he had received that day?
With trembling eagerness he drew forth the silver match-safe that TomTrefethen had insisted on presenting to him in token of his gratitude.It had been called water-tight. Would it prove so in this time of hisgreatest need? A match was withdrawn, and he struck it against aroughened side of the safe. There was a splutter of sparks, but noflame. That, however, was more than he had dared hope for, and,sitting down, that he might not run the chance of dropping hisprecious box, he rubbed it briskly in his hands until it wasthoroughly dry before making another attempt.
This time there was no result, the head of the match having evidentlyflown off. With breathless anxiety he tried a third, and was thrilledwith joy by having it burst into flame. Tom Trefethen's gift hadredeemed its promise.
By the fitful flare of that match, whose cheery gleam filled him witha new hope, Peveril saw that he was sitting on the rocky floor of acave or chamber that extended back beyond his narrow circle of light.On the other side, and but a few inches below him, was outspread agleaming surface of water, smooth as a mirror and black as ink. Thesethings he saw, and then his match burned out.
The darkness that followed was so absolute as to be suffocating; butbefore striking another of the priceless "fire-sticks" he drew forththe candle that had lain quietly in his pocket for several weeksawaiting just such an emergency as the present. After many reluctantsputterings, it, too, yielded to his efforts, and finally burned witha steady flame. With it he was enabled to make a much more careful andextended survey of his surroundings. To his great delight hediscovered, lodged here and there on the rocks about him, aconsiderable quantity of dry wood in small pieces.
Whittling some shavings from one of these, he soon had a brisk blazethat not only drove the black shadows to a respectful distance, butimparted a delicious warmth to his chilled body.
"I'll live to get out of this place yet and confront the wretches whotried to murder me--see if I don't!" he cried, filled with a newcourage inspired by the magic of light and warmth. "They probablythink me safely dead long ere this; but they'll find out that I amvery much alive, and I'll know them when I see them again, too. Whatcould have been their object, and what can they have against me? Iwonder if the old fellow who claimed the logs could have set them onto me? I hate to believe it; but the whole business looks awfullysuspicious.
"There's a deep game going on somewhere, but I may live to fathom ityet. What made them start up in such a hurry and fling me down thishole? I remember: they were scared by the barking of a dog and theapproach of some one on horseback. Whoever that chap was, I'll owe hima debt of gratitude if ever I get out of here; and if I don't--Well,perhaps he did me a good turn anyhow, for they would probably havekilled me in the end. Hello! I had forgotten these hardtack."
Mechanically thrusting his hands into the pockets of his coat duringthis soliloquy, Peveril found the hard biscuit that he had slippedinto them on leaving camp. Now, though these were soggy with water,they were still in a condition to be handled, and, carefullywithdrawing them, he ate one hungrily, but laid the other near thefire to dry. Then he removed his clothing, wrung what water he couldfrom each article, rubbed his body into a glow, re-dressed, and againsat beside his fire for a further consideration of his strangesituation.
As he could arrive at no conclusion regarding an attempt to escapeuntil the coming of daylight, which he hoped would reach him withsufficient clearness to disclose the nature of his prison, histhoughts finally drifted to other matters. He recalled his lostletter, and wondered if Rose would grow very impatient at his longdelay
in answering it.
"If she does, she must," he remarked, philosophically, "for I am notin a position to hurry the mails just now. How distressed the deargirl would be, though, if she could see me at this minute! That is, ifshe didn't find it a situation for laughter, and, by Jove! I believeshe would, for she laughs at most everything. I only hope we will havethe chance to laugh over it together some time."
In some way thoughts of Rose led to a recollection of that other girl,whom he had only seen for an instant; and when, a little later, inspite of his desperate situation, he actually fell asleep on his bedof cold flint, it was the face of the unknown that again haunted hisdreams.
