BURIED ALIVE
'You cannot stay here alone,' said Jack; 'I will remain with you.'
'You must rejoin your men. Leave me. Your way is to the mouth of the
Axe, and mine――I will go along the beach till I reach the path to the
station――no, I dare not go that way. Some of the angry and disappointed
men might meet and question me――Why out at night? I would confess
nothing, but they might suspect something and search along the shore
and find this rent. I will climb up by the way I came down, and get
home as fast as may be, after I have got the kegs rolled into the cave
and concealed.'
'I do not like to desert you here at this hour.'
'Time with you is precious. With me it is only a matter of concern to
relieve my mother's anxiety and alarm should she chance to wake and
miss me.'
The young man laid his hands on the girl's shoulders.
'Winefred, I shall never forget what you have done for me to-night. I
cannot find words in which to thank you, but my heart is full.'
'Well, go.'
'Good-night, Winefred. Henceforth we are no mere strangers, but
friends.'
'Yes, till we quarrel.'
'For that there must be an occasion.'
Then he started.
She listened as his feet displaced the pebbles on the strand. She
listened till the roar of the inrolling tide drowned his steps. Then
she went back into the chasm.
The lantern still threw a sickly light on the white wall opposite.
She had to pick her way among the kegs that encumbered the floor, and
lift or roll them up a heap of soil before the mouth of the cave. The
barrels were happily small. A tubman carried a pair of them, one slung
at his back and the other in front of him. They were heaped up where
they had lodged on their descent. The loops of rope attached to each,
and inseparable from such run tubs, loops furnished by the dealers
in France who consigned the spirits to the smugglers――these greatly
facilitated the transfer.
Winefred got several into the cave, where they now encroached on the
entrance. The girl entered and busied herself with arranging them along
the side.
Then she left the natural improvised cellar, and recommenced rolling
and hauling the casks. The cave, as she observed, had been severed in
half; a portion of it certainly penetrated through the portion of the
cliff that had split away from the main bulk. She looked and saw the
crown of the arch just showing above the floor on the farther side
of the chasm, at a considerably lower level, thus proving that the
separated bulk had sunk in splitting off.
She examined the small opening that showed, that she might see if it
were feasible to stow any of the tubs there, and so obviate the labour
of rolling or carrying them uphill. She threw in a stone, and it fell,
rolling over, indicating that the floor of this portion of the cavern
was tilted at a steep incline.
Satisfied that it would not do for her to attempt to force any of the
tubs in there, she resumed her toil of carrying them to the upper
cavern. She worked on diligently, but the work was trying, and she
became exhausted and hot. Then she seated herself and wiped her face
with her sleeve.
The smell of the spirits pervaded the air and made her giddy.
As soon as she had recovered her breath she rose, and, finding the
entrance again encumbered, she again went within to roll the casks
against the sides. That she might see where to place them she planted
the lantern in the middle. She counted the kegs. She had ranged more
than half the entire number, but she doubted whether she would have
strength to store all. Moreover, she was becoming anxious to go
home lest her mother should discover her absence. Not only was this
so because of the alarm into which Mrs. Marley would be thrown by
her disappearance, but also because, should she miss her, she would
assuredly rush forth and rouse the neighbourhood to search for her, and
this, under the circumstances, might lead to detection of her part in
the rescue.
Stirred by this thought, she took up the lantern to resume her task,
when――with a rush and a rattle――down came a mass of chalk-rubble and
soil from above.
Happily the fall took place without the cave in the chasm, so that none
of it touched Winefred. She was, however, frightened. She stood holding
the lantern, breathless, expectant of more, waiting till the cataract
should cease.
Considerably alarmed though she was, she did not at the moment suppose
that her position was endangered. She congratulated herself that she
was under cover when the avalanche occurred. Had she been outside the
cave she would have been struck down and buried by the fallen masses.
Owing to the feeble light diffused by the candle through the horn
sides, she was unable to see far and discover the extent of the fall.
It was some minutes before she ventured to approach the entrance.
There were stones on the floor that had not been there before, and she
was able to distinguish a bank of earth where had been the cave door.
Moreover, a strong smell of brandy, far stronger than before, pervaded
the air.
Dread came over her, like a cold wave rolling down on and enveloping
her――a dread lest the mouth might be choked. It was an imperious
necessity for her at once to ascertain whether there remained any way
of escape.
She threw open the door of the lantern to afford more light, and then
she saw that a mass of rubble mounting to the summit encumbered the
entrance, and apparently completely choked it.
Winefred found that she must climb this; she did so, tearing and
rolling down the pieces of chalk and marl and sand before her.
She thrust the lantern before her, to see if any glimmer shot through
and reflected itself against the farther wall of the cleft. She looked
to see if any indraught caused the flame to waver.
The earth and stone were heaped dense to the very summit, and to what a
depth above the mouth of the cave without it was impossible for her to
conjecture.
To add to her terror and bewilderment, the fumes of the spirits became
stronger and more pungent, stupefying her brain. The stones in falling
had stove in some of the barrels, and their contents oozed forth.
Winefred's heart stood still for a moment as she realised the full
meaning of her situation.
Then she staggered down the heap and retreated to the farthest recess
of the cave, set the lantern before her, looked into the light, and for
a moment became the prey of despair.
But Winefred was young, energetic, and brave. She studied the candle.
How long would that last? How long would it be before day broke?
But when daylight came, none would penetrate into this vault where
she was interred alive. Yet, possibly there might be some rift, some
eyelet-hole through which it might enter and reveal a way of escape.
What was the time?
She put her hand to her belt for the watch that had been given her. It
was not there. She had not brought it with her.
She left the lantern where it was and went again to the entrance, and
worked with hands and feet to roll down and tear through the dead mass
of rubble. She worked on till she was blinded with sweat and tears,
till her head whirled, till her powers were failing, and then she
reeled back to the depths of the cave to see the wick of the candle
fallen over and burn uncertainly in the melted grease.
She put her hand to it.
It went out.
Then she threw herself forward on her hands, gasping, her pulse
leaping, her brain swimming.
'I am buried alive!' she cried. 'Oh, mother! what will she think?
What will she do?' Her hands gave way, she fell on her face, and
consciousness deserted her.