The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Part 49

WE ENTER INTO A CAVERN, THE LIKE OF WHICH NO MAN HAS EVER YET TOLD OF.

No sooner did this new idea come to me than I sprang down the rocks to where our canoe lay, stepped into it, pulled up the stone which served as an anchor, and, in a perfect rage of haste, paddled to that part of the lake where, as I have told, we were like to have been drawn down with the whirlpool.

To this region we had found no occasion to go since our first hazardous voyage thither, there being no woods, but only the high stony mountain.

But now, nearing this part, I perceived, with a tumult of joy, a wide cavern in the rock, disclosed by the falling of the water from its previous height: moreover, there was no longer any whirlpool there, but only a gentle current flowing into the cavern, which was the natural efflux of the streams that came down from the mountains. And it can be readily understood that when the waters were swollen so prodigiously as to lie some depth above this cavern, there should be that vast eddy as they were sucked down to find vent by this pa.s.sage.

Without fear I pushed my canoe to the very edge of the cavern and looked within; and, though the pitchy darkness of it was frightful enough, yet I was comforted by hearing no great noise of tumbling water, nor even the faintest echo, save of a little ripple, which convinced me that I might safely venture therein, with the a.s.surance that I should come to no horrid falls, but reach, in due course, the issue of this stream upon the other side of the mountain. But I could go no further at this time for my impatience to carry comfort to my dear lady. So back I went with as much speed as I had come, and, seeing my dear lady standing at the cavern-mouth, I cried out with all my force for joy. Then, coming all breathless to where she stood in amaze, I essayed to tell her; but for some moments could utter no comprehensible words.

"Why, what is the matter with you, Benet?" says she.

"My little comrade," gasps I, "you shall weep no more. Your cheek shall grow full and rosy again. I have found the means to get from this accursed venomous prison!"

Lady Biddy looked at me in mute amazement, my feverish excitement giving her good reason to doubt whether I was not bereft of my reason; but, to cut the matter short, for 'twas ever to me an easier matter to act than to talk, I begged her to step into our canoe, that I might show her my discovery. This she did without further ado, whereupon I pushed across the lake till we came to the newly-found cavern, and there cast out our anchor of stone, that we might examine the entrance at our ease.

"There," says I, pointing into the grotto--"there lies our road to liberty!"

She peered into the darkness some time in silence, and then, with a hushed voice--

"I see no glimmer of light, Benet," says she.

"Nay," says I, "doubtless the tunnel reaches far and has many windings ere it disembogues beyond the further side of these mountains; but a.s.suredly it has an issue, and I conclude the pa.s.sage must be sufficiently commodious, since it gives no echo of break or fall, and has sufficed to carry off the vast body of waters so speedily, for you must remember how suddenly the lake fell after the flood ceased to rush in from the Baraquan. I believe you have nothing to dread here."

"I am ever ready," says she, "to put my life in your hands; but have you no fear for yourself?"

"I value my life only as it may serve you," says I with a transport.

On that, with a sudden impulse, she stretched out both hands to me, while her eyes were flushed with a tear of joy. As quickly I seized them in mine, pressing them as I had not hitherto dared. She did not try to draw them away, but smiled, while a single tear coursed down her cheek; and if I had drawn her to my breast that moment, I think she would have made no resistance, so virginal innocent was her heart, and pure from any feeling but that of responsive affection.

We lost no time in beginning our preparations for departure, and that evening we made up into cakes for next day's baking all the ca.s.savy meal I had ground in the morning for our week's consumption. I was up at daylight the next morning, and, having made a good fire on the kitchen hearth, killed and dressed four acutis and a couple of chickens, for there was no knowing how long we might go before we again got fresh supplies. By this time, my lady having come back from her morning bath all fresh and bright as any pink after a summer shower, we sat down to our breakfast very merry and hopeful, discoursing all the while on the business before us. After that she set to a-baking of our cakes on the hearth and roasting meat at another fire, so that one would have thought we expected to entertain friends, and were preparing a banquet for them.

While this was about, I went into the wood to cut some poles for guiding us through the cavern, and also I got me some good canes, with which I proposed to fence about our canoe, that we might be fended from sudden encounter with sharp rocks. In addition I gathered a good store of fresh fruit, and a quant.i.ty of cuati nuts on their branches, which the Ingas use for lamps, etc., than which no candles of wax give better light with less smoke.

All these things I carried back to the cavern by the time the sun had reached the meridian, and there I found dinner spread on our table, and no more sign of disorder than on any other day, my Lady Biddy being one of those excellent rare women, who, no matter how busy they be, keep a clear head, and neglect none of those comforting attentions on which domestic happiness so much depends.

The rest of that day I spent in strengthening and defending our canoe (our fate depending thereon as much as anything), while my lady packed up those things we were to carry with us; and many a time she came to me in distress to know if we could not take this, or if we must leave that or t'other, for I had bid her take no more than was needful to us.

"The truth is," says she, when I went to her once, "I have not the heart to leave anything behind; for I cannot touch a thing but that it reminds me of the pleasure you have given me in making it for my use." Then after a pause, in which she looks around her, "Oh! Benet," adds she, "I never realized till now how happy we have been here; so I must needs feel sad in leaving these tokens behind."

The next morning we packed our effects in the canoe, and this being done, we carried my lady's pets from the conies' cave (as I call it) to the wood, and there set them free; but, Lord, to see these dumb things at the water's edge (the conies on their hind-legs), looking after their mistress, as if they had a notion they should never see her again, touched our hearts with sad regret.

"Farewell, you dears!" says my lady tearfully; and then, as we glided past our cavern, "Farewell, little home!" but she could say no more.

So in silence we neared that cavern where we were about to venture our lives; for I now perceived how serious and grave a business lay before me.

Before entering the grotto, I lit one of the cuati-nuts, and stuck it in a fork of green hard wood I had fixed to the prow of the canoe for that purpose. Then, my lady having a pole out on one side, and I one on the other, we recommended ourselves to Providence, and pushed into the darkness.

For some time we went gently down with the current, only using our poles to keep us head foremost, and as nigh the middle of the stream as we could judge. And here it was admirable to see how the rocks on either hand and above flashed back the light from our flaming nuts, for all the world like cut diamonds; but after a while, upon looking back, the opening of this cavern (through which we had come) looked no bigger than the flame of a penny candle, and the glitter of the rocks grew less perceptible, from which we concluded that the grotto, instead of diminishing, was increasing in capacity. At first this was no matter of regret, but rather the contrary; but by-and-by, when we could descry no light at all behind us, nor any reflection from the rocks around, a strange feeling crept upon me, for which I can find no name. Save the reflection of the burning nut upon the black water, and our own figures as we stood up in the canoe (which were shadowy enough for creatures of another world), we could see nothing. The water under the fire lay as still and smooth as any polished mirror; for aught we could tell, the current had ceased to flow, and we had come to a standstill. I thrust my pole out on either side; it touched nothing. I slid it downwards into the water, and my arm also up to the elbow, without striking the bottom.

Then I struck upward as far as I could reach, without meeting any resistance. And on this I looked in my lady's face, and saw it white as a ghost's, and full of awe.

"We seem to have drifted into the world of nothing," says I sportively.

She lifts up her finger in silence a moment, and then in a whisper says she:

"There is no echo."

This indeed impressed me, more deeply than all the rest, with a sense of that vastness and obscurity in which we stood; and I could not speak, for fear of I know not what. And then, as we stood in that wondrous silence, there came a hollow voice from the immensity above, echoing my words after all this interval, but in such a hollow, m.u.f.fled sound as you may hear after dropping a stone into a deep well.

"Are we moving, Benet?" says my lady, drawing a little nearer to me.

But I could not say whether we were or not, nor knew I any device to ascertain the truth.

I made my lady sit down, seeing she was much terrified by this strange experience, and replenished the fire at the prow; for though this light was of no service for our guidance, yet I felt that to be without it would be terrible, in good sooth.

So we waited, gazing about us for some sign of change (with the hope we were yet moving with a current whose now was too even for perception), until I guessed by my feelings it must be getting on for noon. Then, with what spirit I could muster, I proposed we should eat our dinner.

But a more ghostly meal I never ate in my life; for all seemed so unreal that it was difficult to believe in our own existence almost. Nay, it crossed my mind that, for aught we knew to the contrary, we were now in some limbo of a future state.

"I do not think we are moving, Benet," says my lady, when our meal was at an end; "shall we not use our oars?"

"With all my heart," says I; "but as to steering, we must leave that to Providence." Indeed, I should long before have brought our oars into play but for the uncertainty as to whither we might come. For 'twas as likely as not we should pull in the wrong direction, having nothing for our guidance, and so, getting out of the current (if current there were), come into some stagnant part of those waters, where we might paddle about forever and a day and find no exit; but of this I said nothing, lest I should inspire my lady with more terrors than she had already.

And so we rowed on, from time to time replenishing our fire, and my heart sickening at the thought that we might be pushing into the depths of a boundless s.p.a.ce, and away from all hope of deliverance. We had food for a week; but I doubted our fire-nuts would hold out three days. And when they were all spent, we must row in endless night, neither seeing each other nor any faintest glimmer, and that only till our food was spent. At this I did fervently pray for mercy--if it were only to catch sight again of the mouth by which we had entered--that we might get back once more into the light of day. My poor little comrade was thinking at this time of the sunlight and her conies, with a longing to be back in our deserted cavern, as she told me.

We rowed till our strength was exhausted; then I bade my lady lie down and rest, while I watched and kept the nuts burning. When she had taken her slumbers, she insisted upon my doing likewise, and with some reluctance I, in my turn, lay down and fell asleep.

I awoke, and then seeing nothing whatever, for the light was no longer burning, I cried out with a terrible fear that my lady was no more.

But her sweet voice brought me quick relief, as she told me that she had thought it best to economize our fuel. "And, Benet," says she, "are we not more likely to catch sight of a faint light in the distance if we have no fire here to dazzle our eyes?"

"Why, there you are in the right, as you ever are," says I.

"That emboldens me to another suggestion," says she. "As we have not been rowing for many hours, it may be that we have drifted again into a current, so do let us rest as patiently as we can doing nothing."

I agreed to this, and we pa.s.sed an interminable time, as it seemed, as best we might; but, truly, no hours ever spent in that dear soul's company were ever so tedious or weary. For, as I say, we had no means of telling whether we were moving or standing still; but lay there, seeing nothing, hearing no sound, feeling no motion, and in a state of uncertainty and dread of unknown possibilities that was enough to drive one to a frenzy.

And so we lay or drifted (I know not which) for a time that seemed to have no end. Once or twice we made a pretense of being hungered, though, Lord knows, 'twas pain to swallow a morsel for our vast terror; and sometimes we made as if we would go to sleep a while, but could never close our eyes for blinking at the darkness in hope of seeing some sign of light; and from time to time we burned a fire-nut, but without perceiving any change at all in our condition.

But at length, when we were beginning to talk of the advisability of rowing again, for we were as blind to our position as ever, to our unspeakable joy we felt the cane fender of the canoe grinding against the rocks, and before I could get a light to see where we were, my lady cried aloud with joy:

"Look, dear Benet--look up there!"

And casting my eyes round, without knowing whither she pointed, I presently spied a bright star; and the next moment the whole starry firmament was revealed.

Thus did we come out of that wondrous cavern in the night, having gone into it in early morning; but whether we had been therein one day or three we could never make out.

CHAPTER LXIV.