The Copper Princess Part 13

Trusting to the wildness of their surroundings and the absence of human beings from that region to shield them from observation, they ventured to build a fire, by the light of which they proposed to carry out their devilish plans.

Besides binding Peveril's arms, they had, on reaching this place, taken the further precaution of tying his ankles, so that he now lay on the ground utterly helpless, a prey to bitter thoughts, but nerving himself to bear bravely whatever torture might await him.

All at once the deep baying of a hound and a crash of galloping hoofs, coming directly towards the fire-light, sounded through the wood.

With a fierce imprecation Rothsky gave a hasty order, at which all three men sprang to where Peveril was lying in deepest shadow.

Hurriedly picking him up, they carried him a short distance, gave a mighty swing, and flung him from them. There was a crash of parted bushes and rending vines, a stifled cry, and all was still.

A minute later, when a boyish figure on horseback swept past the fire, the three men seated by it only aroused a fleeting curiosity in Mary Darrell's mind as to what they could be doing in such a place at such a time.

CHAPTER XVI

LOST IN A PREHISTORIC MINE

After the disappearance of the young rider, whose coming had so materially changed the plan of Rothsky and his a.s.sociate scoundrels, they gazed at each other for a full minute in sullen silence. In the minds of two of them the anger of their disappointment was mingled with a cowardly terror at the awful deed they had committed, and they began fiercely to denounce their leader for having implicated them in it.

Rothsky answered with equal bitterness that he was no more to blame than they, and the quarrel grew so furious that for a time it seemed as though only the shedding of blood could settle it. At length they were quieted by a realizing sense of the common danger that might only be averted by mutual support. So they finally swore with strange oaths never to betray each other, or breathe a word to a living soul of what had just taken place.

Of course they did not for a moment antic.i.p.ate that their crime would ever come to light, though each was secretly determined that if it did he would promptly secure his own safety by denouncing his comrades.

With the patching up of this truce and the forming of their worthless compact the three wretches prepared to depart from the scene of their villany. First, however, they advanced cautiously as close as they dared to the edge of the pit into which they had flung their victim, and, peering into its blackness, listened fearfully. No sound broke the awful silence, and of a sudden the three men, moved by a common impulse, turned and fled through the darkness, stumbling and falling, clutched at by invisible fingers as they ran, and uttering inarticulate cries of terror.

At that same moment their victim was lying on a ledge of rock deep down in the ground beneath them, still alive, but numbed almost into unconsciousness by the hopeless horror of his situation. In the first agony of falling he had instinctively exerted a strength of which he would have been incapable under other circ.u.mstances, and burst asunder the bonds confining his arms.

He believed that in a moment he would be dashed into eternity, and yet a medley of incongruous and commonplace thoughts darted through his mind with inconceivable rapidity. Innumerable scenes of his past life glanced before him, but more distinct than any, sharp and clear as though revealed by a flash of lightning, shone the wonderful eyes that had appeared to him from the red-stained cliffs overlooking the great lake. And, strangest of all, the face seemed to smile at him with a promise of hope.

In another instant all the pictures were blotted out, and his whole world was gulfed by a rush of water in which he sank to fathomless depths.

After an endless s.p.a.ce of time he began slowly to rise, until at length, to his infinite amazement, he found himself still alive and gasping for a breath of the blessed air into which he had once more emerged.

Although his ankles were still bound, his arms were free, and, with the instinct of self-preservation strong within him, he began, awkwardly and feebly, to swim. Dazed, fettered, and weighted by clothing as he was, his utmost efforts would not have carried him more than a few feet, and then he must have sunk forever in that black flood. But the strength given him was sufficient, and ere it was exhausted his hands struck a shelf of rock upon which he finally managed 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 been granted a respite from death, but without a hope that it would be much longer extended.

After a while the sense that he still lived became stronger, and with it grew the desire for life. Animated by it he sat up and made an effort to loosen the cord that still bound his ankles. It was tightly knotted, and the knot was so hardened with the water that for a long time his trembling fingers could make no impression on it. Still he persevered, and his exertions infused him with a slight warmth.

Finally the knot yielded and his limbs were free, though so numbed that it was several minutes before he could stand up.

Knowing nothing of his surroundings he dared not move more than a step or two in any direction for fear of again plunging into that deadly water. 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 tomb looks like!"

Then he remembered that he actually did possess both matches and a candle, it having been impressed upon him by old Mark Trefethen that a miner should never be without those necessities. So he had always carried them in a pocket of his canvas mining-suit. But were they not rendered useless by the double wetting he had received that day?

With trembling eagerness he drew forth the silver match-safe that Tom Trefethen had insisted on presenting to him in token of his grat.i.tude.

It had been called water-tight. Would it prove so in this time of his greatest need? A match was withdrawn, and he struck it against a roughened side of the safe. There was a splutter of sparks, but no flame. That, however, was more than he had dared hope for, and, sitting down, that he might not run the chance of dropping his precious box, he rubbed it briskly in his hands until it was thoroughly dry before making another attempt.

This time there was no result, the head of the match having evidently flown off. With breathless anxiety he tried a third, and was thrilled with joy by having it burst into flame. Tom Trefethen's gift had redeemed its promise.

By the fitful flare of that match, whose cheery gleam filled him with a new hope, Peveril saw that he was sitting on the rocky floor of a cave or chamber that extended back beyond his narrow circle of light.

On the other side, and but a few inches below him, was outspread a gleaming surface of water, smooth as a mirror and black as ink. These things he saw, and then his match burned out.

The darkness that followed was so absolute as to be suffocating; but before striking another of the priceless "fire-sticks" he drew forth the candle that had lain quietly in his pocket for several weeks awaiting just such an emergency as the present. After many reluctant sputterings, it, too, yielded to his efforts, and finally burned with a steady flame. With it he was enabled to make a much more careful and extended survey of his surroundings. To his great delight he discovered, lodged here and there on the rocks about him, a considerable quant.i.ty of dry wood in small pieces.

Whittling some shavings from one of these, he soon had a brisk blaze that not only drove the black shadows to a respectful distance, but imparted a delicious warmth to his chilled body.

"I'll live to get out of this place yet and confront the wretches who tried to murder me--see if I don't!" he cried, filled with a new courage inspired by the magic of light and warmth. "They probably think me safely dead long ere this; but they'll find out that I am very much alive, and I'll know them when I see them again, too. What could have been their object, and what can they have against me? I wonder if the old fellow who claimed the logs could have set them on to me? I hate to believe it; but the whole business looks awfully suspicious.

"There's a deep game going on somewhere, but I may live to fathom it yet. What made them start up in such a hurry and fling me down this hole? I remember: they were scared by the barking of a dog and the approach of some one on horseback. Whoever that chap was, I'll owe him a debt of grat.i.tude 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 have killed me in the end. h.e.l.lo! I had forgotten these hardtack."

Mechanically thrusting his hands into the pockets of his coat during this soliloquy, Peveril found the hard biscuit that he had slipped into them on leaving camp. Now, though these were soggy with water, they were still in a condition to be handled, and, carefully withdrawing them, he ate one hungrily, but laid the other near the fire to dry. Then he removed his clothing, wrung what water he could from each article, rubbed his body into a glow, re-dressed, and again sat beside his fire for a further consideration of his strange situation.

As he could arrive at no conclusion regarding an attempt to escape until the coming of daylight, which he hoped would reach him with sufficient clearness to disclose the nature of his prison, his thoughts finally drifted to other matters. He recalled his lost letter, and wondered if Rose would grow very impatient at his long delay in answering it.

"If she does, she must," he remarked, philosophically, "for I am not in a position to hurry the mails just now. How distressed the dear girl would be, though, if she could see me at this minute! That is, if she didn't find it a situation for laughter, and, by Jove! I believe she would, for she laughs at most everything. I only hope we will have the 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, in spite of his desperate situation, he actually fell asleep on his bed of cold flint, it was the face of the unknown that again haunted his dreams.

CHAPTER XVII

UNDERGROUND WANDERINGS

When Peveril next awoke he was racked with pain, and so stiff in every joint that an attempt to move caused him to groan aloud. A faint light dimly revealed his surroundings; but these were so strange and weird that for several minutes he could not imagine where he was nor what had happened. Slowly the truth dawned upon him, and one by one the awful incidents of the past night began to shape themselves in his mind.

"I have been murdered and drowned," he said to himself. "Now I am entombed alive, beyond reach of hope or human knowledge. Never again shall I see the sunlight, never revisit the surface of the earth, never look upon my fellows nor hear the voice of man. I may live for several days, but I must live them alone--alone must I bear my sufferings, and finally I must die alone. What have I done to deserve such a fate? Is there no escape from it? I shall go mad, and I hope I may. Better oblivion than a knowledge of such agony as is in store for me.

"And yet why should I lose faith in the Power that has thus far miraculously preserved me? I am alive, and in possession of all my faculties. I shall not suffer from thirst. I even have a certain amount of food, together with the means for procuring fire. I am not left in utter darkness, and, above all, I have not yet proved by a single trial that escape is impossible. How much better off I am in every respect than thousands of others, who, finding themselves in desperate straits, have yet had the strength and courage to work out their own salvation! What an ingrate I have been! What a coward! But, with G.o.d's help, I will no longer be either!"

Having thus brought himself to a happier and more courageous frame of mind, Peveril stiffly gained his feet, moved his limbs, and rubbed them until a certain degree of suppleness was restored. He was about to build a fire, but refrained from so doing upon reflection that his stock of fuel must be limited, and that a fire might be of infinitely greater value at some other time.

Now the prisoner began a careful survey of his surroundings by the feeble light finding its way down the shaft into which he had been flung. As it did not materially increase, he concluded that full day had already reached the upper world. It was also brightest in the middle of the black pool, which showed that the opening through which it came must be directly above that point, and that the shaft must be perpendicular.

Peveril called the hole a shaft, because, while he could neither see to the top nor clearly make out the outlines of the portions nearest at hand, it still impressed him as being of artificial construction, while the opening at one side, in which he stood, also seemed very much like a drift or gallery hewn from the solid rock by human hands.

The impossibility of scaling the sheer, smooth walls of the shaft was evident at a single glance, and Peveril turned from it with a heavy heart. At the same moment his attention was attracted by a sharp squeaking, and, to his dismay, he made out a confused ma.s.s of something in active motion about the precious biscuit that he had left beside his fireplace. With a loud cry he sprang in that direction, only to stumble and fall over a small pile of what he took to be rocks that lay in his path.

Without waiting to regain his feet, he flung several of these at the animals that had discovered and were devouring his hardtack. A louder squeak than before showed that at least one of his missiles had taken effect, and then there was a scampering away of tiny feet. When he reached the scene of destruction his only biscuit was half eaten, while beside it lay a huge rat that had been killed by one of his shots.

"With plenty of rats and plenty of rocks I need not starve, at any rate," he remarked, grimly. "The idea of eating rats is horrid, of course, but I don't know why it should be. Certainly many persons have eaten them, and in an emergency I don't know why I should be any more squeamish than others.

"What heavy rocks those were, though, and what sharp edges they had! I expect it will be a good idea to collect a few, and have them ready for my next rat-hunt."