The House on the Borderland

by William Hope Hodgson

  _XIII_

  THE TRAP IN THE GREAT CELLAR

  I suppose I must have swooned; for, the next thing I remember, I openedmy eyes, and all was dusk. I was lying on my back, with one leg doubledunder the other, and Pepper was licking my ears. I felt horribly stiff,and my leg was numb, from the knee, downward. For a few minutes, I laythus, in a dazed condition; then, slowly, I struggled to a sittingposition, and looked about me.

  It had stopped raining, but the trees still dripped, dismally. From thePit, came a continuous murmur of running water. I felt cold and shivery.My clothes were sodden, and I ached all over. Very slowly, the life cameback into my numbed leg, and, after a little, I essayed to stand up.This, I managed, at the second attempt; but I was very tottery, andpeculiarly weak. It seemed to me, that I was going to be ill, and I madeshift to stumble my way toward the house. My steps were erratic, and myhead confused. At each step that I took, sharp pains shot throughmy limbs.

  I had gone, perhaps, some thirty paces, when a cry from Pepper, drewmy attention, and I turned, stiffly, toward him. The old dog was tryingto follow me; but could come no further, owing to the rope, with which Ihad hauled him up, being still tied 'round his body, the other end nothaving been unfastened from the tree. For a moment, I fumbled with theknots, weakly; but they were wet and hard, and I could do nothing. Then,I remembered my knife, and, in a minute, the rope was cut.

  How I reached the house, I scarcely know, and, of the days thatfollowed, I remember still less. Of one thing, I am certain, that, hadit not been for my sister's untiring love and nursing, I had not beenwriting at this moment.

  When I recovered my senses, it was to find that I had been in bed fornearly two weeks. Yet another week passed, before I was strong enough tototter out into the gardens. Even then, I was not able to walk so far asthe Pit. I would have liked to ask my sister, how high the water hadrisen; but felt it was wiser not to mention the subject to her. Indeed,since then, I have made a rule never to speak to her about the strangethings, that happen in this great, old house.

  It was not until a couple of days later, that I managed to get acrossto the Pit. There, I found that, in my few weeks' absence, there hadbeen wrought a wondrous change. Instead of the three-parts filledravine, I looked out upon a great lake, whose placid surface, reflectedthe light, coldly. The water had risen to within half a dozen feet ofthe Pit edge. Only in one part was the lake disturbed, and that wasabove the place where, far down under the silent waters, yawned theentrance to the vast, underground Pit. Here, there was a continuousbubbling; and, occasionally, a curious sort of sobbing gurgle would findits way up from the depth. Beyond these, there was nothing to tell ofthe things that were hidden beneath. As I stood there, it came to mehow wonderfully things had worked out. The entrance to the place whencethe Swine-creatures had come, was sealed up, by a power that made mefeel there was nothing more to fear from them. And yet, with thefeeling, there was a sensation that, now, I should never learn anythingfurther, of the place from which those dreadful Things had come. It wascompletely shut off and concealed from human curiosity forever.

  Strange--in the knowledge of that underground hell-hole--how appositehas been the naming of the Pit. One wonders how it originated, and when.Naturally, one concludes that the shape and depth of the ravine wouldsuggest 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 thegreater, more stupendous Pit that lies far down in the earth, beneaththis old house? Under this house! Even now, the idea is strange andterrible to me. For I have proved, beyond doubt, that the Pit yawnsright below the house, which is evidently supported, somewhere above thecenter of it, upon a tremendous, arched roof, of solid rock.

  It happened in this wise, that, having occasion to go down to thecellars, 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 hadleft it.

  Reaching the place, I walked slowly up the center, until I came to thetrap. There it was, with the stones piled upon it, just as I had seen itlast. I had a lantern with me, and the idea came to me, that now wouldbe 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 cellarbecame filled with the sound of a murmurous thunder, that rose from farbelow. At the same time, a damp wind blew up into my face, bringingwith 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. Thehaunting fear of the Swine-things had left me, long ago; but I wascertainly nervous and astonished. Then, a sudden thought possessed me,and I raised the ponderous door, with a feeling of excitement. Leavingit 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 drovein my eyes, making me unable to see, for a few moments. Even when myeyes were clear, I could distinguish nothing below me, save darkness,and whirling spray.

  Seeing that it was useless to expect to make out anything, with thelight so high, I felt in my pockets for a piece of twine, with which tolower it further into the opening. Even as I fumbled, the lanternslipped from my fingers, and hurtled down into the darkness. For a briefinstant, I watched its fall, and saw the light shine on a tumult ofwhite foam, some eighty or a hundred feet below me. Then it was gone. Mysudden surmise was correct, and now, I knew the cause of the wet andnoise. The great cellar was connected with the Pit, by means of thetrap, which opened right above it; and the moisture, was the spray,rising from the water, falling into the depths.

  In an instant, I had an explanation of certain things, that hadhitherto puzzled me. Now, I could understand why the noises--on thefirst night of the invasion--had seemed to rise directly from under myfeet. And the chuckle that had sounded when first I opened the trap!Evidently, some of the Swine-things must have been right beneath me.

  Another thought struck me. Were the creatures all drowned? Would theydrown? I remembered how unable I had been to find any traces to showthat my shooting had been really fatal. Had they life, as we understandlife, or were they ghouls? These thoughts flashed through my brain, as Istood in the dark, searching my pockets for matches. I had the box in myhand now, and, striking a light, I stepped to the trap door, and closedit. Then, I piled the stones back upon it; after which, I made my wayout from the cellars.

  And so, I suppose the water goes on, thundering down into thatbottomless hell-pit. Sometimes, I have an inexplicable desire to go downto the great cellar, open the trap, and gaze into the impenetrable,spray-damp darkness. At times, the desire becomes almost overpowering,in its intensity. It is not mere curiosity, that prompts me; but more asthough some unexplained influence were at work. Still, I never go; andintend to fight down the strange longing, and crush it; even as I wouldthe unholy thought of self-destruction.

  This idea of some intangible force being exerted, may seem reasonless.Yet, my instinct warns me, that it is not so. In these things, reasonseems to me less to be trusted than instinct.

  One thought there is, in closing, that impresses itself upon me, withever growing insistence. It is, that I live in a very strange house; avery awful house. And I have begun to wonder whether I am doing wiselyin staying here. Yet, if I left, where could I go, and still obtain thesolitude, and the sense of her presence,[1] that alone make my oldlife bearable?