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He now thrust his arm through, and, grasping it, pulled at it with all his strength. His utmost effort, however, made no impression. He found that the stone was ma.s.sive within as without, that it was no thin slab, but one which his arm could not surround--at least eighteen inches in solid thickness where his arm held it. Yet the stone did move, and had been moved. The matter became now more incomprehensible than ever. It could be moved. It had been moved, yet there was a secret contrivance here into which he could not penetrate.
Again the thought came to him of the package which contained Katie's fortune. Some one had been here. Had that one found the package? It must be so. Fool that he was!
A second time had that precious package been deposited in what seemed a secure hiding-place, and a second time had the hiding-place proved almost a public thoroughfare.
For what seemed a long time Harry examined that stone. In vain. The wall arose before him impenetrable. The stone was immovable. Yet that stone seemed now to him to hold within itself the secret not only of the package, but also of escape and of liberty and life.
Harry at length felt like giving up. Once more, however, though now quite hopelessly, he examined the stone in every direction, pressing with all his strength upon every part. And now in this, the very moment of his utter hopelessness, as often happens--at the very time when not expecting it, he found what he sought.
At the extreme end of the stone, more than six feet from the crevice where he had hidden the package, he pressed upon it, and found that it gave way. The pressure was not at all strong; yet to that slight effort the apparently ma.s.sive rock yielded like a door, and moved inward several inches.
In unspeakable amazement and intense excitement Harry pushed it in farther, until he saw the whole move in, at his pressure, for about two feet. An opening was disclosed. He stepped in and looked around.
He found himself in a kind of chamber which was about four feet wide and eight feet long. At the end of this was a stone stair-way which went down. Harry looked around, and took all this in at a glance. His first thought was about his package.
The package was not there.
He had been prepared for this, yet the disappointment was bitter.
Still there was consolation in the discovery which he had made, and his excitement and curiosity were yet strong. He naturally turned his attention to that stone which formed so wonderful a door-way, and which had so long baffled him.
He saw that at the end, near the crevice, the stone was about eighteen inches thick, but that it was all cut away toward the other end, till it ended in a slab of only two inches in thickness. One end of the stone was thus a vast block, while the other was a comparatively thin slab. He now understood the whole construction.
At the thick end the door was set with stone pivots, into sockets above and below, by means of which it was easily moved. The reason why he could not move it at first was because he was exerting his strength near the hinge, or pivots, where, of course, it was thrown away; but as soon as he had touched the farther edge, it yielded to a slight pressure. Here, inside, there was a stone handle by which it was easily opened, while, outside, he thought that it was closed by swinging it as one went out, so that it went by its own weight into its place.
After all, there was nothing very strange in this. Harry had read about such stone doors. In the accounts of the Moabite cities, mention is made of something of the sort; and as those have lasted for three thousand years, this one might well l.u.s.t for several hundred.
But the package!
There were no traces of it. At the hinge end of the slab there was a wedge-shaped stone, by inserting which here the door could be secured against opening from without. Into this wedge-shaped crevice he had thrust the package. He saw also that in pushing it far in he had only secured its discovery, for he must have pushed it so far that the first one who pa.s.sed had found it.
Now who could that have been?
Whoever it was, the package was gone. No doubt it was one of the Carlists, who had taken it to their leader. It was gone beyond all possibility of recovery.
Harry had been so taken up with his examination of these things that he had forgotten all about the necessity of caution. He stood there thus, in thought, the torch brightly burning, when suddenly he was roused by some one rushing up the steps. He darted back into the pa.s.sage-way, and banged the stone door after him.
Too late. In an instant the pursuer was upon him and had caught at his coat collar.
But Harry was not the man to give up at the first attack. Quick as lightning, he drew forth a revolver from his breast pocket, and, hastily c.o.c.king it, turned to confront his a.s.sailant.
One look was enough.
"Ashby!" he cried.
"You scoundrel!" cried Ashby, in a fury. "Scoundrel! villain!
traitor!"
CHAPTER x.x.xIII.
IN WHICH THERE IS A VERY PRETTY QUARREL.
In order to account for the strange and shockingly rude language of Ashby, which must be as astonishing to the reader as it was to Harry, it will be necessary to go back a little.
You see, then, my dears, immediately after Harry's flight, Ashby also had hurried away, and had reached his own room without further adventure. He now began to think that he had acted with mad folly and recklessness; yet at the same time he could not bring himself to regret it at all. He had seen Dolores, and that was enough, and the hunger of his heart was satisfied, for the present at least.
Like Harry, he had a sense of being pursued, which kept him for a long time on the watch, until at length he began to feel safe. All the circ.u.mstances of his recent adventure now came to his memory. One thing amidst it all gave him great perplexity. Who were in that room?
There had been others, and he had heard the motion of one in particular behind him--some one who seemed to be moving under the chimney. Then came the arrival of "His Majesty." But who was that other one? Ashby did not like the appearance of things at all.
After a time, as his confidence became restored, he began to think of going back again, just, as he said to himself, for the sake of listening at the chimney, and seeing that all was right. Putting it in this plausible way, the thought became too tempting a one to be resisted, and at length he started on his way back.
The pa.s.sage-way, with its secrets, had already been shown him by Dolores. It started from the chimney, and after a few feet came to some steps which ascended to the second floor, upon which were situated the rooms of Harry on the one side and the ladies on the other. The steps thus led upward toward the very pa.s.sage-way which Harry had been traversing. How they opened into that pa.s.sage-way, however, has yet to be explained.
As Ashby reached the foot of the flight of steps he became aware of sounds, which brought him to a full stop. Instead of going back, however, he waited. Hidden in impenetrable gloom at the foot of the steps, he could listen, and there was no fear of his being seen. His only idea was that the Carlists were closing up the way.
At length he noticed a faint gleam of light, and after a short interval he noticed that it grew brighter. He then saw the stone door open inward. As he watched he did not move, being too eager to know what was coming, and feeling confident in his own obscurity.
And now, as he watched, he saw Harry's face suddenly reveal itself, as it was lit up by the flaring torch. Yes, it was Harry, and there he stood, examining everything in the manner already described; and Ashby was a witness of all his proceedings.
As Ashby looked, there came to him a mult.i.tude of dark and gloomy suspicions. So then, he thought, Harry knows all about this pa.s.sage, and if so, he must know where it leads to. And where was that? It was to only one place--that one room alone. And what would Harry want there, and what would he find? He would find her--Katie!
Now, although Ashby was full of bitter resentment against Katie, and was, perhaps, quite in earnest in all that he had said about her to Dolores, yet when he had this fresh confirmation of something like an understanding between these two, he became filled with the bitterest jealousy and indignation.
He had already felt something of these same feelings. He had seen Harry with his own eyes paying devoted attentions to Katie, though he knew that Katie was engaged to him. It was this which had made him turn away from her, for he had seen that she was false to him. Yet his resentment against her did not lessen his jealousy, nay, it intensified it. He regarded Harry as guilty of an offence which was at once the worst and the most unpardonable. He had been false to his friend, and that, too, immediately after he had received that friend's fullest confidence, and had promised that friend his most energetic a.s.sistance. Could anything be worse than this?
And now Ashby saw through it all. Harry had traversed that pa.s.sage-way. He had been in that room. He had seen Katie. Of this he had not a doubt. And what now? No doubt he was prowling about to try to find some way out, so that he might escape with Katie.
Ashby watched with all these bitter thoughts in his mind, until at length he could endure them no longer. He determined to confront his former friend, his present enemy, and meet him face to face; to charge him with his perfidy, and seek for vengeance. With a leap, he bounded up the steps. Harry retreated, yet not so fast but that Ashby caught up with him, and grasped him as he was flying. Then Harry turned, pistol in hand, and the two stood face to face.
"Ashby!" cried Harry.
And Ashby cried out:
"Scoundrel! villain! traitor!"
His face was white, and his voice hoa.r.s.e with pa.s.sion.
Harry was confounded.
"Hang it, Ashby; don't you know me? Are you mad?"
"Know you!" cried Ashby, bitterly. "Thank Heaven, I do know you! I've found you out, you infernal sneak, you! Know you? Good heavens! yes, I know you for a scoundrel, and a contemptible, double-dealing interloper and villain!"
Harry stood aghast.