The Golden Magnet Part 22

That there must be a sort of tide in the lake, small as it was; for the water was bubbling up more fiercely with a hissing noise, and there was no sand--the waters had covered it; there was no raft--the pole had been loosened by the water and the raft had gone, floated away, to be driven by the stream to the tunnel, and then swim lightly away to leave us to a horrible death--a self-sought death; and as I thought of what I had done in my insensate greed for gold I could have groaned aloud.

But no, it was no insensate greed, I told myself--it was for Lilla's sake--and my eyes rilled with tears as I thought that I should never see her more, and that Garcia--

That name sent a thrill of energy through my weary frame, and calling upon speechless Tom, I told him to light a piece more oak.u.m; and he did so, to reveal plainly the raft floating about right at the end of the great vault, and apparently nearing the arch of exit. What were we to do?

There was but one answer. Dash into that horrible black lake and swim to the raft, or else stay and die.

It was dreadful, to plunge into those mysteriously disturbed waters, containing far below who could tell what hideous monsters?--to swim, or try to swim, where the strange eddies and whirlpools might draw the struggling wretch down! To swim, too, in profound darkness; for I felt that if the attempt were made it would be made together.

The thoughts in my breast must have been the same as those in poor Tom's; for, looking at the faintly-discerned raft and then up at me, he said with a groan: "Mas'r Harry, I daren't!"

"Tom," I said, "I dare not!"

"But tell me to try it, Mas'r Harry," he cried--"order me to swim off to it, and I'll try. I shall be sucked down like a cork in a sink-hole, but tell me to do it--order me and make me, and I'll try; but I daren't go without I was made."

"Light another piece of oak.u.m, Tom," I said hoa.r.s.ely. "Perhaps the water on the sand is shallow and we might walk along to the other end, and then try to swim together: it would not be half so far. But stay-- hold my hand while I step down and try."

We crept down to where the sand had been bare when we left it, though loose and yielding; and, sticking the short piece of candle in a crevice, Tom seized my hand firmly and I stepped down into the water, but only to cry to Tom to draw me forth, for the sand was quick now and watery, and more dangerous to him who ventured upon it than the lake itself.

It was not without a sharp struggle that I once more stood beside Tom upon the ledge of rock, when without a word he drew out the oak.u.m and prepared to light it, while, half beside myself with horror, I tried to calculate how far was the distance, and whether, by well marking the spot where the raft floated, we could not contrive to hit it in swimming in the dark. That we should have to swim in the dark I knew; for neither of us, I felt, could then have swum with one hand, holding a light above the troubled waters with the other.

Just then Tom's oak.u.m blazed up behind me, to light up the vault with its sparkling stalact.i.tic roof, glistening sides, and strangely-agitated water. There floated the raft plainly enough just in front of the arch, and so near to our reach that in an instant Tom had thrown off cap, wallet, and jacket beside the candles stuck in the rock and the still burning oak.u.m.

"No, Tom--no!" I cried, catching at him; "you must not risk it."

"Let go, Mas'r Harry--I must!" he shouted. "I swore I'd stick to you."

He struck me in the chest so that I staggered back, and then there was a loud plash and he was swimming away.

To start up and throw off my own jacket and wallet was the work of an instant, for, with his example, I could not stay back. We were companions, and I felt that it would be cowardly after he had taken the first plunge.

Another instant and I was after him, "plash!" with the noise of my plunge still echoing as I rose above the waters--echoing in a strange whisper along the arched roof. But oh! the painful, numbing sensation of intense cold that struck to my heart! It was fearful, and before I had taken a dozen strokes I felt that I should never reach the raft.

I was not called upon so to do, for the next minute, in answer to my cry came a groan from Tom, and I knew that he was swimming back, and the next moment he shrieked:

"Mas'r Harry, back! lend me a hand! Cramp--cramp!"

And then he gave a shriek of agony which roused me to a state of frenzy, as I could just see him beating the water with frantic effort close by my side.

The raft was forgotten then as with a vigorous stroke I reached him, placed one arm beneath his, and then struck out for the lights.

How I reached them I cannot recall: only a horrible struggle, the echoing of splashing water, the reaching of the cold, slimy rock with something seeming to draw me under, a fierce effort to get out, the dragging forth of poor Tom, who sank by my side with a groan; and then in a dreamy state I pulled the last piece of oak.u.m from Tom's wallet, held it to one of the candles for it to blaze up, sputtering loudly from the wet hand that held it. I sheltered my eyes after pressing out the water, looked again and again, separated the oak.u.m so that it flared more and more, lighting up the low arch through which we had entered, when I groaned to myself: was this to be the end of my golden dreams-- death in this hideous vault? for the stream set swiftly now through the arch, and the raft was gone!

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A NIGHT'S REST.

The bright, flaring, spluttering blaze, glimmering and flashing upon the troubled waters and reflected from the roof; then, as it sank down, comparative darkness, for the two sc.r.a.ps of candle seemed to burn very dimly. Tom lay upon the rocks without speaking, while the agony that pa.s.sed through my brain was intense. I felt that I had murdered the poor fellow, who was called upon to give up his young life through his fidelity to what any thoughtful man would call my wild follies.

We were to die, then, here, in this wild, mysterious cave, far beyond the reach of aid; for even if we had not by our caution thoroughly concealed our coming, who would dare to follow our route, unless by chance the raft were seen?

That certainly afforded a faint gleam of hope, and another came directly to fortify it. My uncle had talked about the great cave, and its exploration had been mentioned. It was possible, then, that upon our absence causing uneasiness a search might be made in this direction; for I knew my uncle too well to think that he would leave his sister's child unsought.

But if he did not arrive in time? or if some of Garcia's spies had seen us enter and were to mislead the searchers?

The thought was too horrible; and I shuddered as I thought of Lilla and her fate, till a maddening sensation of jealousy drove for a few minutes all fear and dread away.

My musings were arrested by Tom, who made me start by suddenly taking my dripping hand between his--damp and icy to the touch.

The next moment he was holding my hand to his breast, so that I could feel the laboured beatings of his true heart as he exclaimed hoa.r.s.ely:

"Mas'r Harry, you saved my life then, and I'll never forget it."

"Nonsense, Tom!" I said with gloomy cheerfulness. "It's all give and take out here. Why, you saved me from the crocodiles."

"Cuss 'em! Don't talk about 'em here, Mas'r Harry," said Tom in a whisper. "We don't know but what there's horrible ones living in these dreadful waters. That there cramp taking me in the leg like that made me feel as if one had got hold of me. I'm a horrible coward, Mas'r Harry, that I am."

"Tom," I said, "this place is enough to unnerve any one."

Then we were silent, for the strange echoings of our voices had an unearthly, terrible effect upon our nerves; and more than once I started at the grotesque shadow of myself upon the wall. The roar of the great waterfall came humming through the rift above our heads, while below the waters hissed, and bubbled, and lapped against the rocks in a curious, whispering, awe-inspiring fashion; and then moved by the same impulse we both took off and wrung all the moisture we could out of our things before standing shivering before the lights, one of which was already beginning to gutter down and threatened to become extinct.

Upon examining our wallets we found that we each had a couple of candles left, but our provision was very low; and the question now arose as to the next proceeding.

"Won't do to lie down and die, Mas'r Harry," said Tom. "I'm ever so much warmer now."

"No, Tom," I said, "we'll fight to the last; but what are we to do?"

"Well, Mas'r Harry, I'd first of all get up into the crack of a pa.s.sage up there before the lights go out, for there's no knowing how high this water may rise; and if I ain't to see daylight no more, but to die here, I should like to die dry and warm."

"Don't talk about death, Tom," I said with a shudder. "Let's fight for life to the last, and, as you say, we'll climb up to the rift."

One candle burned out as we tried to move it, and deferring the lighting of another for reasons of economy, we climbed to the narrow crack-like pa.s.sage and went along it about thirty yards before Tom, who was first, turned round in a part where the pa.s.sage widened a few feet.

"Now look here, Mas'r Harry," he said. "We don't know that there ain't no other way out of the cave. I should say as there is if we could find it; at all events we mustn't lie down and die till we've looked about and the candles are burned away, and then felt about till we can't feel no longer. So see here, Mas'r Harry, we're wet, and cold, and tired out, and we can't do nothing better than sit down here and have a good sleep. Then we'll wake up, eat the bit of grub there is left, and go to work again fresh. What do you say?"

"Say? That I think you are right, Tom," I replied, trying to imitate his cheerfulness. "But about the light?"

"Light, Mas'r Harry? Why, we must put it out. We ain't little children to be afraid to go to sleep in the dark. Then you've got your tinder-box and matches all dry in the wallet, and we can light up and go at it again in the morning, or night, or whatever it is, Mas'r Harry, for there ain't no difference here. Who knows but what, while we are looking for the way out, we mayn't find what you want?"

"What I want, Tom?" I said suspiciously. "To be sure, Mas'r Harry?

What you want, whatever that may be--I don't say as it's gold mines, or dymons, or what not; only whatever it is we _may_ find it, for I shouldn't be surprised at finding anything here."

I did not reply; but making the best of the sad lodging that was to be ours for the next few hours, and all wet and shivering as we were, creeping together for warmth, we lay down, and I stretched out my hand to extinguish the candle.

But my hand was arrested half-way, as I looked upon the glittering rock above my head and listened to the hissing, seething noise of the water below us in the long vault and the faint roar of the cataract far above us to the left. Now with a sense of dread indescribable I thought of the water rising to where we were during our sleep, and whether it would not be better to light another candle. Anything was better than lying there in the horrible darkness.