Sep was the first to recover consciousness. Little by little,
beginning by half-opening his eyes in the darkness only to shut them
again, without thought, without memory, he at last woke with a start
to the knowledge that he was lying on something very hard, in a cold,
dark place, that his teeth were chattering, and that he was very badly
bruised on his right arm and side. Then, turning, he saw the pale
remains of the daylight, or the pale beginnings of the moonlight,
coming through the deep embrasure of the window. Following the line of
faint light with eyes in which the intelligence was scarcely yet
awake, he saw on the floor, almost close to him, what looked like a
tumbled heap of dark clothes.
Then he remembered. Shaking off the stupor, which again seemed to be
overpowering him, Sep turned his friend’s body so that he could dimly
see the face. At first he thought he was dead, and with a shriek of
horror Sep started to his feet. But Rees stirred at the sound, and in
a moment his friend was again beside him, loosening his clothes,
watching eagerly the first faint signs of returning life, and
muttering curses on his own weakness in having helped him in this
dangerous, mad enterprise. At last Rees, after uttering a few faint
sighs, rolled over on his left side, and again his companion thought
he was dying, if not dead.
Springing up again with a despairing exclamation, Sep was on the point
of risking discovery by rushing to the lodge to summon help, when
Rees, as if instinctively knowing that his project was in danger,
recovered himself quite suddenly, like a child waking out of sleep,
and stopped him with a hoarse cry.
“Where is it? What have you done with it, Sep?” he asked wildly, but
in a weak voice.
“Done with what?” asked Sep, startled by his friend’s tone, and
fancying at first that the incidents of the night, whatever they might
have been, had turned his brain.
“The gold! You know,” said Rees mysteriously.
Sep sat down beside him, much excited.
“Gold. Did you really find any, Rees? Tell me just what happened. I
only remember feeling giddy and then drowsy, and then the light went
out.”
“You fell down, and I went to bring you up. You were right deep down
there, on the ground, insensible. I couldn’t see you, but I felt you,
and I dragged you up. And then I saw gold, gold, shining all round us
on the walls in the darkness; but when I touched it I found it all
like dry powder. I suppose I was dreaming, Sep,” he added slowly.
“Of course you were. And you went down to pull me up?” Sep went on
wonderingly. “It was very silly; you might have been overcome just as
I was, and then we should have lain dead together.”
“Well, that would be much better than for people to say Rees Pennant
left his friend to die alone.”
This sort of romantic outburst became Rees, because a little Welsh
rhodomontade was natural to him; and, indeed, he was physically brave
enough. Sep took his hand affectionately.
“Now, Rees,” said he, “we must get away, and never come near this
villainous pest-hole again.”
Rees pushed his friend’s hand away like an impatient boy.
“You need not come again,” he said. “But I shall come here again and
again, and go down that hole again and again, until I find what it
leads to, and whether there is anything in it worth finding.”
He spoke with dogged obstinacy, but indeed after the evening’s
adventures, and the cold awakening from that dream of gold which
turned at the touch, there only remained to him the embers of hope and
sullen persistency in carrying this project through to the end.
“Oh, well, then, of course if you come, I shall,” said Sep, in his
little chirpy voice. “We’ll come, and come as long as you like, till
we both find a fool’s grave down there.”
Rees did not answer. He was busy replacing the grating over the hole,
and covering it up as before. Then they walked in silence, still
suffering from a sort of lightness in the head, out into the open air,
and climbed up to the spot on the wall where Sep had been drawn up. By
the same means he was now let down again very silently, by the watery
light of a moon that was battling not very successfully with the
clouds. Then Rees walked out by the gate, as he could do without
summoning Mrs. Crow, and rejoined the other two men under the castle
wall.
Amos Goodhare was in a state of much excitement, and professed great
enthusiasm over the devotion which each of the young men had displayed
towards the other.
“It is such hazardous enterprises as these,” he said warmly, “which
bring out in their brightest colors the qualities of young men.”
“Yes, and of older ones too,” assented Sep, in his best fool’s manner,
which the librarian did not yet understand.
Goodhare heartily applauded Rees’s determination to go through with
the adventure, but declined the offer that he should share the dangers
of the next descent with a good-humored laugh.
“I am too old,” he said. “My limbs are too stiff for such doings. What
would have become of me if I had been in the place of either of you?
If in Sep Jocelyn’s, I should have been too heavy for you to lift; if
in yours, I should not have been active enough to get him out in time.
No, I must take the humbler part of watcher, and be content therefore
with such share of the spoils--if there are to be any spoils--as you
think due to my initiative.”
The younger men could not but agree with the justice of this
reasoning, in whatever light they might consider these last words.
They parted for the night very soon, Rees declaring that he had a
plan, and that if Sep would be at the same place under the walls on
the next evening but one, he would by that time, he thought, be in a
position to perform the perilous adventure in safety.
On the evening appointed, therefore, Rees, without increasing the risk
of exciting suspicion by meeting the other two men first, passed as
usual through the castle gates and mounted to his place on the west
wall. The weather was fine and mild, so that they had to wait their
opportunity of escaping the eyes of such of the townsfolk as had
strolled this way for a summer evening’s ramble. Sep’s seafaring
experiences now stood him in good stead. As soon as Amos, on the watch
a few yards below in the cricket meadow, gave the signal that no one
was near, Sep seized the rope, which was almost hidden by the thick
ivy, and was safe on the top of the wall in a few seconds.
Then came a more severe trial for their patience. Rees and his
companion had scarcely got down to the inner court of the castle when
they saw in the distance a small party of young tradesmen of the town
and their lasses, who were being escorted over the ruins by one of
Mrs. Crow’s sons. The two young men, knowing every corner of the old
building, easily found a hiding-place for Sep and for a mysterious
parcel which Rees had brought, hidden under his rug. This rug he now
quickly spread on the remains of one of the wide inner walls, and
throwing himself upon it, he lit a cigarette and opened before him a
book, on which he appeared to be intent as the excursion party came
up. He had to look up then, however, for he and his family were so
popular that more than one of the intruders stopped to make kind and
respectful inquiries after his mother, which Rees, though boiling with
impatience to get rid of them, was obliged to answer civilly. This
incident caused a delay of nearly an hour before the two young men
could begin their work.
At last, however, the wicket-gate swung to behind the party. Sep
instantly, on a whistle from Rees, came out of his hiding-place, and
they descended together to the vaulted room. Here Rees, going down on
his knees on the floor, opened his mysterious parcel and spread out
before Sep’s inquiring eyes a great coil of old garden hose, neatly
repaired in various places, and furnished at one end with a sort of
macintosh bag.
“What’s that for?” asked Sep.
“To breathe through,” answered Rees in a tone of triumph. “It was the
foul air that put out the light and overcame you and me. To go down
there safely one must have air from above, like a diver. I’ve stopped
up all the holes in the tubing myself, and I’ve joined our own garden
hose with Mr. Long’s, which I borrowed out of his tool-shed without
troubling him for permission; and I’ve contrived, as you see, a sort
of loose air-tight mask at one end to cover the nostrils as well as
the mouth. Provided with this, I believe I can breathe down there as
freely as up here. Anyhow, I mean to try.”
Sep, though not inclined to put much faith in this ingenious
arrangement, and, in fact, most dismally minded concerning their
chances of escaping with their lives out of the adventure, listened
submissively to all his friend’s instructions, and agreed at last,
with much reluctance, to be the one left at the top, while Rees was to
test his own apparatus.
Rees then showed his friend an old miner’s lantern which he had bought
secondhand in Cardiff years ago when he was a boy. A very long rope
completed his equipment. One end of this rope he tied round his waist,
fastening the other securely to the bars of the iron grating; then
attaching the air-tight mask over his face, with the tube depending
from it, he took the lantern in his hand and began the descent.
Sep’s office was to keep the tubing straight, that the supply of air
might be unimpeded; also to watch the rope, and, when he saw it jerked
three times, to help his friend’s return to the upper air by hauling
it up with all his might.
Although he had made light of the risks he was about to run in order
to encourage his friend, Rees was really quite as fully aware of the
desperate nature of his enterprise as Sep was. All definite hopes
about the supposed treasure had, indeed, given place in his mind to
the mere desire to carry on to the end an exciting adventure; for
Rees, though deficient in moral strength, had just the needful dash
and daring for a dangerous feat of this kind. He thought he saw in the
discovery of these underground steps, not the confirmation of
Goodhare’s ambitious hopes, but the foundation for them. It was,
therefore, as an explorer rather than as a robber that he made this
third descent.
The first flight of steps was quickly passed. The next stage was the
flight of rugged, perpendicular notches with the handrail at the side.
To his great joy, the tubing answered admirably. He got to the bottom
of this flight of steps, and landed on the spot where he had picked up
Sep’s insensible body, without having suffered the slightest
inconvenience. Neither did his light go out, although he fancied that
it began to burn rather dimly. Down there, in the depths of the earth
though, surely his imagination was beginning to play some odd tricks
with him. The ground, which was still hard and rocky, sloped down from
the bottom of the steps towards what looked like the black round mouth
of a cavern. It seemed to Rees that a thin mist, rising like curls of
filmy smoke, came out of the blackness of this opening continually,
and mounting slowly to just above his head, obscured his view of the
walls. Was there some intoxicating property in this vapor, that, in
spite of his precautions, perhaps began to cloud his brain? For, as he
looked at the walls, he saw again the effect which had dazzled him
before; on every side the rock shone like gold in the light of the
lantern. He hastened to examine the walls, and found that this
singular effect was merely produced by a sort of glaze which, as he
could not doubt, the gases generated at this cavernous depth below the
earth’s surface had, in the course of ages, deposited there. This, he
thought, as, much excited by the strange sight, his eyes ran round the
steep, glistening walls, might be another and very reasonable origin
of the hidden gold story. Indeed, on this point he was now satisfied,
and for a moment he hesitated whether, as he began to find it much
more of an effort to draw breath, he should not make his way back to
the upper air, and, if not relinquish further search, at least put it
off for the present. One look into that cavern a few yards off,
though, he must cast.
His lantern, meanwhile, was certainly growing very dim. He had done
everything so rapidly that only a few seconds had elapsed since he had
began the descent. He now ran down the slope, but stopped short just
in time, with a guttural ejaculation of horror.
For the rock ended abruptly in a perpendicular cliff.
Rees, shaking and shivering with an odd feeling of having been very
near the Great End, peered down. He could see nothing. There was a
cavernous depth of blackness below, but he could tell neither its
width nor its height, for his light was waning rapidly. Suddenly he
caught sight of something which roused him again to a frantic pitch of
do-all, dare-all curiosity. It was a rope attached to an iron staple
at his feet, and hanging down. The temptation to go further was now
irresistible. Throwing himself first into a sitting position, with his
legs hanging over the rock, he tried the rope, giving it a tug with
his disengaged hand. It seemed firm. That decided him. He fastened his
lantern to the rope which was tied round his waist, and seizing the
other, swung himself over and began descending, hand under hand. He
had not gone down more than a couple of yards, however, when the rope,
which was old and rotten, gave way, and he was thrown to the ground.
Luckily, this was only a couple of feet or so below him, and he picked
himself up at once, unhurt, with his lantern unextinguished.
As he did so, he noticed a strange sound like heavy hailstones
falling. Beginning as he touched the ground, it continued for a few
moments after, growing gradually fainter. This, he found, proceeded
from the walls, which were here only just far enough apart to allow
him to pass without touching them. The disturbance he made in the
still air had caused hundreds of little flat flakes of stone to
crumble off the rocky sides and to fall to the ground.
He was now, he felt sure, going under the river; for the passage went
straight forward without slope or curve. He was conscious, as he
hurried on, of a strange acrid smell, quite unlike the damp heavy
fumes which, in spite of his precautions, had faintly reached his
nostrils in the stage above. Here it was dry--strangely dry--with an
atmosphere which, although not hot, seemed to parch the flesh as he
passed.
But, in the meantime, breathing through the tube was becoming
difficult, and a mad impatience seized him when he found that there
was a sudden turn in the passage just in front of him, while he had
come so close to the end of the tubing that the length left would not
allow him to pass the corner. If he went carefully, however, he
thought he could, by the last rays of his dying candle, manage to look
round.
Very cautiously he now moved; two steps more; yes, he could just do
it. The tube was stretched to its utmost length; already he felt
himself half suffocated, as if it had caught on something. But as he
reached the corner, and held the little flickering light up to see
what it led to, his eyes fell on a sight which would have stopped his
breath with horror even if he had been breathing free air.
Seated on a chest against the wall, leaning his head back, and meeting
Rees Pennant’s stare of dismay with eyes wide open and horror-struck
as his own, was a lean and shrivelled man.