"Oh! la la! How horribly dull life is! I do wish something really
startling would happen, Dick!"
The words were spoken in pretty broken English by Yvette Pasquet, who,
charming and _chic_, as usual, was sitting with Jules and Dick Manton.
The adventurous trio were dining _al fresco_ in the leafy garden of the
old-world "Hotel de France" on the river bank at Montigny, that
delightful spot on the outskirts of the great Forest of Fontainebleau, a
spot beloved by all the artists and _litterateurs_ of Paris.
"Something will happen suddenly, no doubt," Dick laughed, glancing at
his beloved. "It always does!"
"I sincerely hope it will," declared Jules in good English. "We're
really getting rather rusty. I met Regnier yesterday out at Pre Catalan
with Madame Sohet, and he hinted to me that some great mystery had
arisen; but he would tell me nothing further."
"Regnier, as head of the Service, is always well informed, and like an
oyster," Yvette remarked with a laugh. "So I suppose we must wait for
something to happen. I hate to be idle."
"Yes. Something will surely happen very shortly," said Dick. "I have a
curious intuition that we shall very soon be away again on another
mission. My intuition never fails me."
Dick Manton's words were prophetic, for on that same evening before a
meeting of the Royal Society in London, Professor Rudford, the
world-famed scientist, made an amazing speech in which he said:
"Could we but solve the problem of releasing and controlling the mighty
forces locked up in this piece of chalk, we should have power enough to
drive the biggest liner to New York and back. We should have at our
disposal energy unlimited. The daily work of the world would be reduced
to a few minutes' tending of automatic machinery. And, I may add, the
first nation to solve that problem will have the entire world at its
mercy. For no nation, or combination of nations, could stand even
against a small people armed with force unlimited and terrible. And--
gentlemen--_we are on the way to solving that problem_!"
As the words fell slowly and calmly from his lips his hearers felt a
thrill of ungovernable emotion, almost of apprehension. For they knew
well that he spoke only of what he knew, and the measured phrases
conjured up in their keen brains not only a picture of a world where
labour had been reduced to the vanishing point, but of a world where
evil still strove with good, where the enemies of society still strove
against the established order of things which they hated, where crime in
the hands of the master criminal, armed with force whose potentiality
they could only dream of, would be something transcending in sheer
horror all the past experiences of tortured humanity.
Supposing the great secret _fell into the wrong hands_!
The speech at the Royal Society was a nine days' wonder.
The unthinking Press made merry in the bare idea of a lump of chalk
being a source of power. Then the transient impression faded as public
attention returned to football and the latest prize-fight. But behind
the scenes, in a hundred laboratories, students bent unceasingly over
their myriad experiments, striving to wrest from Nature her greatest
secret, the mystery of the mighty energy of the atom. Since the day
when Madame Curie had discovered that in breaking up, yet seemingly
never growing less, radium was shooting off day and night power which
never seemed to diminish, the minds of the men of science had been
filled with the dream of discovering the secret.
Could they learn to accelerate the process? Could they induce radium to
deliver in a few moments the power which, expending itself for centuries
untold, never seemed to grow less? Could they learn to control it, or
would it, when at last the secret was discovered, prove to be a
Frankenstein monster of titanic power, wreaking untold destruction on
the world?
A thin, keen-faced man sat facing the British Prime Minister in his
private room in Downing Street a few days later. This was Clinton
Scott, one of the smartest men of the British Secret Service, a man of
wide culture and uncanny knowledge of the underworld of international
crime. His profession was the detection of crime; his hobby science in
any form.
"We have very disturbing news, Scott," said the Prime Minister, "and I
have sent for you because the problem before us is largely of a
scientific nature and I know all about your hobby."
Clinton Scott smiled.
"You are aware, of course, of the latest developments in the search for
some method of releasing and controlling atomic forces," went on the
Prime Minister. "I do not profess to understand them deeply myself, but
I have a general idea of what is being done and what success would
imply. Professor Rudford, to whom I applied for information on the
subject, tells me that such a discovery would revolutionise world
conditions. You will understand of your own knowledge all that it
implies, and that is why I have sent specially for you in this matter."
"I am at the country's service," replied Scott.
"Now information we have received from Norway suggests very strongly
that the problem has been solved," the other said. "We have no
details--nothing in fact very definite at all. But it is certain that
some very queer things have been happening. And from what Professor
Rudford tells me I am assured that we cannot afford to neglect them.
Our ordinary men are useless for this kind of thing. Men with a
considerable knowledge of scientific subjects are absolutely necessary.
Otherwise matter which, properly understood, would be full of
significance will be passed over as of no account and quite minor and
unessential incidents will be followed up, and there would be serious
waste of time. And time is valuable."
"I agree that it is," was the terse reply.
"I want you to go to Norway and look into the matter," the Prime
Minister went on. "Of course I will see that you get all the
information we have, and you can select your own assistants."
Clinton Scott suddenly looked grave.
"Is it known at all?" he asked. "Who is behind this--I mean who has
made this discovery? You will appreciate my reason for asking. If it
is the work of a genuine man of science there would be no immediate
danger, though of course such an invention would upset all ideas of
international relations. It is literally true, as no doubt Professor
Rudford will have told you, that the nation in exclusive possession of
such a secret could dominate the world. But there are one or two men in
the world who, with such a secret in their possession, would be a real
peril to civilisation."
"Do you know a man named Lenart Gronvold?" asked the Premier.
Clinton Scott started visibly.
"Do you mean to say he is in it?" he gasped in utter astonishment.
It was the Premier's turn to be surprised.
"Why--who is he?" he asked. "Professor Rudford had never even heard his
name and laughed when I suggested that he could have had anything to do
with it."
"He won't laugh when he gets some real idea of Gronvold's ability," said
Scott bitterly. "The man is one of the mysteries of the world of
crime," he went on. "Exactly who he is we don't know--I mean we know
little about his life. But we believe he is Norwegian born, though he
has strong Russian characteristics. We know he studied at Leipzig.
Tutors who knew him well speak with the utmost admiration of his amazing
brain power as a student and the daring of his conceptions. But for
some reason he never did well in examinations and attracted no attention
whatever outside a very limited circle. Personally, I believe that for
some strange reason he deliberately elected not to call attention to
himself, for there is not the slightest doubt that he could with ease
have captured every honour the University had to bestow. After leaving
Leipzig he disappeared for some years. I don't know how he spent them.
But I do know that he is a chemist of amazing ability. He has,
moreover, been mixed up with a number of puzzling international crimes,
though we have never been able to bring any of them home to him. Do you
remember the big bank robbery at Liverpool three years ago?"
The Premier nodded.
"You mean," he said, "when the bank vaults were blown open with dynamite
and half a million in gold stolen?"
"That's the case," said Scott. "Only it wasn't dynamite, there was no
explosion. The thick steel and stone walls of the vaulted safe had been
melted through as if they had been butter. The story of an explosion
was deliberately given out to deceive the thieves. But the fact is that
some process was used of which we have no knowledge whatever."
And he paused, then went on:
"Now I am pretty sure Gronvold was in that. I was called in before
anything had been touched. And in one corner I picked up a scrap of
paper bearing some queer formulae of which I could make nothing. It had
evidently been dropped by accident. And it bore Gronvold's name.
Moreover, as I ascertained by a visit to Leipzig, where I saw some of
the old University registers, it was in his handwriting. But where he
is, how he got into England, how the burglary was effected and how he
got away with such an enormous weight of gold we never could make out.
If he is really in this new discovery we are face to face with a
terrible problem. The man is absolutely without scruple, and for three
years he has had the use of half a million of money for his experiments.
He may have done anything in that time."
"But how did you know of him?" asked the Premier.
"It's a queer story," replied the other. "Simmons, one of our men in
Christiansand came across, quite by accident, a drunken Norwegian sailor
who told a strange story of the blowing up of a mountain by a tiny
cartridge placed at the bottom of an old mine shaft. He actually
mentioned Gronvold's name, and claimed to have been one of his
assistants. When he became sober he was evidently terribly alarmed at
having talked, and denied the whole story. The same day he disappeared,
and Simmons has been unable to trace him."
He went on after a pause:
"Now the blowing up of a mountain is a fact. A hill nearly a thousand
feet high in a wild lonely district north-east of Tonstad has absolutely
disappeared--levelled out. To have done the work by ordinary means
would have meant years of labour and would have cost a fortune. There
can be no doubt that some entirely new force has been employed.
Officially the occurrence is attributed to a landslide; actually it is
and can be nothing of the kind. Now this, coupled with what the
Norwegian sailor said, suggests that we ought to look into the matter.
Whether the Norwegian Government knows anything about it I do not know,
and the matter would be of such importance from the international point
of view that we cannot make direct inquiries."
"Will you take it in hand?" asked the Premier. "Whom will you get to
help you? I am afraid the ordinary men would be of very little use."
"I think I will run over to Paris and see Regnier," replied Scott. "He
has a fellow named Manton who will certainly be useful. He was in our
flying corps and was invalided out owing to wounds. He has done some
wonderful work and has an entirely new type of aeroplane which he
invented and which, by the way, our people would have nothing to do
with. Regnier swears by him. He works always with a French girl named
Yvette Pasquet, who did some splendid intelligence work during the war,
and her brother Jules. They will have nothing to do with anyone else
when they are on a case, and they have had some amazing results."
Crossing to Paris by the afternoon air express Scott the same evening
was warmly greeted by Regnier. He rapidly explained his visit. Regnier
looked grave.
"I have heard of the man," he said, "but have never seen him, I don't
think in a case like this you can do better than Manton. He is very
well up in all these scientific things; they seem to be a perfect craze
with him."
An hour later, Regnier, Scott, Dick Manton, Yvette, and Jules were
closely discussing the problem in Manton's rooms.
"We have got to find that sailor," was Dick's verdict, "and luck is
going to have a good deal to do with it. I suppose Simmons is on the
look out for him?"
"Yes," replied Scott, "I wired him at once."
"Do you think Gronvold and the sailor have quarrelled?" put in Yvette.
"I think not," was Scott's reply. "If they had there seems no reason
for the man's alarm. I think he calculated on going back to him. That
was Simmons' view, too."
Dick, who had been carefully studying a map, looked up.
"Just look here," he said, "you could hide an army in this place."
The map was in contour and gave a vivid impression of the wild and
desolate country, a broken mass of hills and lakes, stretching north and
east from Tonstad.
"Suppose Gronvold is there," said Dick, "he could hide anything he
wanted to. I don't think he would have travelled far from its base to
blow up the hill--that was probably experimental. My idea is that he
has established his laboratory somewhere in the hills about there.
There is no population and little or no traffic through the district.
He must send to one of the towns for supplies, and Christiansand is the
most likely. I should guess that the sailor had come there for that
purpose and may come again."
"He did not leave the town by boat," declared Scott. "Simmons made the
most careful inquiries on all the boats in the harbour and no one of his
description was seen."
Three tourists a week later were lodged in a comfortable hotel in the
Dronningens Gade, one of the principal streets in the busy port of
Christiansand. They were Yvette, Jules, and Scott. Dick had flown the
Mohawk direct to the wild district north-east of Tonstad, and with the
help of a light tent had pitched a camp in a little wood a couple of
miles from the southern edge of the blown-up hill. He had taken pains
in the selection of a suitable place and his camp and the Mohawk were so
admirably hidden that they were safe from discovery, unless some one
actually walked right up to them, a contingency which in that roadless,
unpopulated country was extremely unlikely. But though hidden himself
he commanded a wide view.
For two days Dick devoted himself to a thorough examination of the
surrounding country, quartering it thoroughly either on foot or in the
Mohawk. He could however see nothing in the least suspicious.
Then came a surprise.
His only method of receiving news from the others was to "listen in" on
the wireless telegraph set with which the Mohawk was fitted for messages
which, directed to an address in England, were handed to the
Christiansand radio station for dispatch, but were really intended for
him. These messages were handed in at eight o'clock precisely and Dick
usually got them within half an hour.
On the third day of his watch came the message:
"Sailor located. Travelling north with pack mules. We follow.
Osterluis road."
The man, as he was to learn later, had been spotted by Yvette in
Christiansand. She had seen him leave a small cafe much frequented by
sailors, and had been struck by his likeness to the description given by
Simmons. She had followed him for some time while he made a variety of
purchases at numerous shops, and had been struck by the fact that a mere
sailor should evidently have such a large sum of money at his disposal.
Luckily she had encountered Simmons, who at once recognised the man and
had promptly disappeared to avoid arousing his suspicions.
Yvette was able to learn that all the man's purchases were being
delivered to a small inn on the outskirts of the town, and a few
inquiries showed that he had four mules stationed there.
The matter began now to clear up. They were sure of the man; at least
he could not leave without his mules and stores. Jules and Scott took
up the watch at the inn, while Yvette shadowed the suspect. It was
thought best that Simmons should not appear. It soon became evident
that the man had no associates in Christiansand. All he did was to
visit shops, paying cash for all his purchases and having them sent to
the inn where his mules were stabled.
The next day, with his mules heavily loaded, he set out from
Christiansand, taking the road to Trygstand and Ostersluis.
Yvette, Jules, and Scott decided to follow him on foot. To have taken
horses would have told him he was being followed as soon as he left the
road, as they were pretty sure he would, sooner or later. Luckily all
three were splendid walkers and felt they would have no trouble in
keeping up with the heavily-laden mules. Cramming a few necessities
into rucksacks they were soon on the track of their quarry.
Man and mules made steady progress. They were soon through Trygstand
and, shortly after, caught sight of the Mohawk high above them and
evidently following the road on the watch for them.
With a handkerchief tied to a stick Yvette swiftly signalled to Dick the
brief facts, and the Mohawk passed on towards Christiansand. When the
sailor and the mules were hidden in a dip in the road Dick landed, and
all four held a brief consultation as to their future plans.
As a result Scott put on his best speed and soon passed the sailor who
had stopped for a rest. The man was now between two parties on the
ground and under observation from Dick from the air. He certainly could
not escape.
A few miles beyond Trygstand he suddenly left the high road, and turned
westward and north across the open country. Evidently he was not bound
for Ostersluis. But where could he be going? For miles there was not
even a house in the deserted track of country into which he had plunged.
But it was evident he knew his bearings thoroughly. Hour after hour he
jogged along, and soon the pursuers realised that they had been wise not
to bring horses. No horse could have crossed the country over which the
sure-footed mules went swiftly without a stagger.
At nightfall the man camped. Apparently he paid no attention to the
passing of the aeroplane, for he barely glanced at it. Building a small
fire under the shelter of a rock, the three pursuers spent a comfortless
night. Dick had flown to his camp, intending to pick the party up again
at dawn.
Early next morning the man was afoot and continued his journey. He was
now in the wild country well to the west of Ostersluis, and travelling
due north. Yvette, Jules, and Scott were a mile behind, following with
the utmost care not to reveal their presence and so rouse the man's
suspicions.
They had gone but a few miles when the man paused on the flat top of a
high hill, which on the side away from them sloped steeply into a deep
gorge at the foot of which ran a small stream. They watched him
narrowly.
With great care he got the four mules together, standing side by side.
He himself took up a position directly in front of them and almost
touching the animals' heads.
A moment later man and mules sank together, apparently into the earth
and disappeared!
They could hardly believe their eyes! Surely the man must have gone
down the reverse slope of the hill. But they were confident that he had
not moved.
They hurried to the spot. Not a sign of any living thing was to be
seen! The mystery was profound.
While they stood gazing at one another in speechless amazement, the
Mohawk, which they had not perceived above them, dropped vertically
downwards and landed a few yards away. Dick sprang out.
"Did you see?" he gasped. "The man and mules went down into some sort
of pit. But where was it?"
The flat top of the hill was broken into a series of narrow cracks;
apparently the rock of which it was composed was of volcanic origin.
They examined it closely, but they could discover nothing which offered
a solution of the mystery.
Dick described closely what he had seen from the sky. It agreed with
what the others had observed. The man had got the mules together, and
all had sunk slowly downward. Dick had seen the black mouth of the pit
for a few moments and a blaze of light. Then the pit had disappeared,
and the ground resumed its normal appearance.
"We shall have to camp here to-night," said Dick. "We must get to the
bottom of this. We shall have to take turns to watch. In the meantime
we had better have a look round."
Having closely examined the top of the hill, they turned to the deep
gorge and descended to the bottom. The stream, they found, issued from
the hill itself, flowing out from a low tunnel high enough to admit the
passage of a man. From it also issued a cloud of mist which spread over
the bottom of the little valley in a thick blanket which completely
concealed the surface of the ground from anyone at the top of the hill.
But still more remarkable was that the bed of the little stream was
deeply covered with what appeared to be recently melted lava. In many
places it was still hot, and the water, they found, was nearly boiling.
The first traces of this were found at the mouth of the tunnel from
which the stream emerged, and for hundreds of yards the molten rock
could be traced, as though it had poured from the tunnel and flowed down
the bed of the brook.
Wood and water were available in abundance, and soon they had pitched
their camp, near enough to the top of the mysterious hill to enable them
to watch it closely and yet well concealed so that if the man reappeared
they would have no difficulty in escaping observation.
The first watch fell to Yvette, and with a revolver ready for instant
use, she prepared to spend a couple of lonely hours on the edge of the
hill. The camp was but a quarter of a mile away so that a shot would
bring her speedy help at any time.
A brilliant moon lit up the country for miles.
There was no trace of any living thing. Everything was still and
silent.
Yvette had been on watch about an hour when she became aware that the
air was full of a dull murmur of sound. She listened intently. There
was no mistake about it. A dull throbbing noise was distinctly
discernible.
She walked round the flat top of the hill, looking keenly in every
direction and trying to locate the position from which the mysterious
sound was coming. But it was in vain.
Glancing into the gorge, she saw a strange and terrible phenomenon. The
course of the little brook was traced in a dull fiery glow. Clouds of
steam were rising thickly into the night air; she could plainly hear the
sharp hiss of water on something hot.
She ran swiftly down the hill. At the bottom she paused on the edge of
the stream. The water had disappeared and in its place ran a river of
molten rock! Through her boots she felt the heat of the ground.
Returning to the top of the hill she waited for Dick, who was now almost
due to relieve her. In a few moments he appeared and listened in
amazement as she gasped out her story.
The dull, throbbing noise was still audible.
"Machinery," said Dick laconically, "but where?"
Suddenly he flung himself on his face, and pressed his ear close to the
ground.
"Listen," he said.
Yvette followed his example. There could be no mistake; the mysterious
sound was coming from the ground beneath their feet! The earth was full
of muffled thunder.
Dick took from his pocket a hammer and struck a sharp blow on the flat
rock beneath their feet. It rang hollow! Unmistakably they were
standing on the roof of a cavern.
Walking to the camp they roused the others and told them what they had
seen and heard.
"We have got to catch that sailor if we wait here a month," said Scott.
"He must come out again some time. But how about food?"
"We have enough tinned stuff in the Mohawk for a week," said Dick, "so
we shall be all right for a few days. In the meantime we must watch the
place closely."
Next day passed without incident until evening was drawing on. Then
Yvette, who was watching the top of the hill while the others rested, at
six o'clock gave a low whistle. She was lying on the ground keeping
observation between a couple of rocks which hid her completely. In a
moment the others had crawled to her side.
"Look!" she said.
On the top of the hill, three hundred yards away, stood the sailor and
the four mules, clearly silhouetted against the evening glow. He had
appeared suddenly, Yvette told them, just on the spot where he had
disappeared on the previous day.
"We must get him," said Dick.
The man with the mules started to return along the way he had come.
They saw at once that the path he was taking would bring him close to
them.
With the mules unloaded the man evidently had no intention of walking.
He mounted one of the animals and rode towards them at a fast trot.
He was within twenty yards when Dick aimed his revolver and fired. The
mule the man was riding bolted, throwing its rider heavily. Before he
could recover himself he was bound and helpless. The other three mules
stampeded wildly and were soon out of sight.
Carried to the camp the man soon recovered. But he resolutely refused
to say a word.
"Well," said Dick. "We must try to get into the cave. Perhaps the
tunnel out of which the brook runs will lead us to it."
They were soon at the mouth of the strange tunnel. There was no sign of
the molten matter of the previous night. The stream, thick with mud,
flowed sluggishly, but the water was cool, and the ground, which the
night before had been too hot to walk upon, was now not more than
uncomfortably warm.
With Dick leading, Scott and Yvette next in order, and Jules bringing up
the rear they entered the mouth of the tunnel. There was, they found,
just room for them to pass, stooping low and walking knee deep in the
little stream. They were, of course, in total darkness, for Dick was
afraid to show a light for fear of betraying their presence.
For a hundred yards Dick groped his way onward. Then his outstretched
hands struck something soft. It was a kind of curtain hung across the
stream, thick and heavy.
Cautiously he slightly raised one corner and peered through. The sight
that struck his eyes filled them with amazement.
They were at the entrance to an enormous chamber, a hundred and fifty
yards across, dimly lighted by a single big electric lamp, the only one
alight out of dozens which hung from the roof. The floor sloped steeply
upwards at the far end where they could make out a kind of platform,
reaching nearly to the roof and with steps leading downward into the
great hall. All round the side were a series of openings, apparently
small chambers cut into the solid rock. From one of these the stream
they had followed seemed to issue, crossing the floor of the great cave
in a narrow deep channel.
But what fascinated Dick's attention was a great table, apparently of
iron, which occupied the centre of the cave. It was heavily constructed
and seemed to be based on massive legs which went down into the rock.
Upon it stood a strange machine unlike anything he had ever seen before
and of the use of which he could not form the smallest idea. Surmounted
by two huge governor balls, it was a complicated mass of polished
wheels, of some metal which Dick could not identify, and which gleamed
with a strange radiance in the light of the huge electric lamp overhead.
From the machine a bewildering mass of wires led to a series of points
at the face of the rock.
So much Dick could make out in the dim light. He was keenly anxious to
learn more. But how was it to be done? No sign of any human being was
to be seen, but he could not imagine that what lay before their eyes was
the work of the solitary sailor who now lay bound in their camp.
At any rate they could not remain where they were. Dick decided to try
to gain entrance to one of the wall chambers where they could shelter
with a better chance of seeing what would happen in this underground
home of mystery. But which should they choose?
Some of the chambers were half-way to the roof and were reached by steps
cut in the solid rock. Dick decided on one of these not far from where
they were standing. They crept cautiously from their hiding-place and
stole along to the bottom of the cave. A moment later they were at the
foot of the steps. These they hastily climbed, and soon found
themselves in a fair-sized cave, fifteen or sixteen feet above the floor
of the main cavern and commanding a good view of the entire area. It
was dry and warm and formed an ideal post of observation, provided their
presence remained undiscovered.
Suddenly a blaze of light struck their eyes. Some one had turned on the
whole of the electric lamps which hung in clusters from the roof.
Peering cautiously out they saw, to their amazement, half a dozen men
issue from different chambers near the floor of the cave. All wore big
round spectacles of deep blue glass and were clothed in close-fitting
garments of rubber, with heavy gauntletted gloves of the same material.
Apparently they could not see well, for the spectacles must have been
almost impervious to ordinary light.
One of the men, fixing his spectacles on more firmly and, drawing his
rubber overall more closely around him, approached the strange machine
which stood on the table. The others proceeded to the points at which
the wires from the machine reached the side of the cave. Here they took
up some kind of tool which looked like a gigantic blowpipe and stood
ready as if awaiting a signal.
A low whistle sounded from the man at the table, as he grasped a small
wheel and gave it a quick turn.
An instant later an appalling blaze of light burst from the strange
machine, and the cave was filled with a roar of sound, a terrible deep
drone of such frightful intensity that the hidden watchers shuddered as
if with actual physical agony. Dick felt the sweat start suddenly from
his forehead and pour down his face. Anxiously he glanced towards
Yvette. She lay with her face buried in her arms, her body trembling
convulsively. Scott and Jules, their faces white as chalk, were gazing
at the unearthly light which streamed from the whirling machine, shading
their eyes with their hands to shelter them from its blinding radiance.
They could not look at it for more than a few seconds; it was like
trying to gaze at the sun at midday.
Taking a letter from his pocket, Dick bored a tiny hole in it with his
scarf pin. Through this hole he found he could see in comparative
comfort. He signed to the others to do the same, and soon all four--for
Yvette quickly recovered her self-possession--were eagerly watching the
strange scene before them. Speech, in the deafening noise by which they
were surrounded, was, of course, out of the question.
The man at the great table in the centre of the cavern evidently had a
task of great difficulty to control the movements of the strange
machine, which he seemed to do by means of a large wheel something like
the steering wheel of a steamer. Long streamers of flame shot from it
in all directions, and as its mass of wheels revolved at terrific speed
it shook and trembled as if it would actually leap from the table.
In the meantime the men at the rock face were hard at work with big
blowpipes, from the muzzles of which shot streams of fire of such
intensity that the solid rock seemed to melt away like butter. The
molten matter was led by ducts in the ground through a grid of some
metal, evidently highly refractory to heat, for it appeared to do no
more than glow white-hot even in the terrific temperature of the melted
rock. After passing through this grid the molten matter was led to the
bed of the stream, from which the water had in some manner been cut off,
and flowed out the way Dick and his companions had entered.
What was the object of the work?
Dick could not guess, but every now and again one of the men would walk
to the grid and with a long implement shaped like a hoe would scrape off
something adhering to the bars, which he deposited in a big tank of
water. Dick determined that, sooner or later, he would obtain a
specimen.
But in the meantime their position was decidedly precarious. If they
were observed there was no possible way of escape, for the tunnel by
which they had entered was barred by the stream of molten matter. They
could only lie still and hope that no one would enter the gallery in
which they lay concealed.
After two hours of work, the man at the table stopped the machine, and
all the men straightened out for a rest. Evidently they were very much
exhausted. The lights were extinguished, except for the single one
which was burning when they entered, and the men returned to their
quarters, evidently almost falling with weariness. Dick came to the
conclusion that they could only carry on the work on which they were
engaged for a short time and that after that sleep and rest were
imperative. The flow of molten metal had stopped and the water was
again allowed to flow along its ordinary channel, from whence it sent up
huge clouds of dense steam.
This gave Dick his chance.
Sending the others to the mouth of the exit, he cautiously crept towards
the tank in which were deposited the scrapings from the grid which
filtered the molten rock. He reached it safely, and plunging in his arm
up to the shoulder, abstracted a couple of handfuls of what seemed like
heavy shot. These he placed at once in his pocket.
He was about to return to the others when his attention was caught by
the queer platform at the one end of the cave. Looking at this
carefully he found that it was really a huge lift, and at once the
mysterious disappearance of the sailor and the mules was explained. It
was evident that the top of the lift was really the thin covering of
rock which had sounded hollow when tapped and that this had been so cut
that when the lift forced it into position only traces of ragged
crevices were left on the surface. Dick could not but admire the
ingenuity with which this approach to the subterranean retreat had been
devised.
Presently he heard a heavy knocking above his head and, guessing the
cause, shrank back for shelter into the mouth of a small cave adjoining.
A moment later a man emerged from one of the other chambers and
approached the lift. Dick was curious to see how it worked. There was,
as he could see, a small electric motor fitted to it, but where could
the necessary power come from?
The new-comer carried in his hand a tiny machine which was in every
respect a duplicate in miniature of the big one on the central table.
But it was so small that the man carried it easily in one hand. From it
ran a pair of electric cables which the man proceeded to connect with
the terminals of the motor.
Placing the machine on the ground he gave the wheel a sharp turn.
Immediately the tiny machine began to revolve, throwing out flashes and
flames exactly like the larger one but on a miniature scale.
Clearly, however, there was considerable power in it, for the lift at
once commenced to descend. On it stood a man whom Dick instantly
recognised as Gronvold. And he was accompanied by the sailor whom Dick
had left safely tied up in their camp. Evidently Gronvold had found and
released him.
Their position was now indeed one of terrible gravity.
As soon as the lift reached the bottom the two men stepped off and the
lift reascended, moving upward with an ease which showed the tremendous
power developed by the tiny machine. Here, indeed, was something of
which Dick had had no previous experience.
The three men crossed the cave to the shelter occupied by the man who
worked the big machine, who was evidently the captain, and Dick knew
there was no time to be lost.
Directly the men entered the shelter, Dick dashed across the cave to
join the others, snatching out his revolver as he ran.
He had nearly reached them, when a whistle blew and instantly half a
dozen men rushed from different caves. They were discovered!
"Take care of Yvette, Jules!" Dick yelled as, with Scott at his side,
he faced round to the men who were rushing at them from three sides.
Instantly Yvette and Jules plunged into the tunnel. Dick and Scott
backed after them with drawn revolvers threatening the men in the cave.
For a moment the leaders hesitated; apparently they were not aimed.
Then Gronvold rushed to the front, followed by the captain, both
carrying curious weapons which looked like heavy pistols.
All four men fired simultaneously. Dick saw the captain drop, evidently
shot dead, and heard a bullet whiz past him and strike the rock behind.
A burst of flame singed his hair, and he felt the hot breath of it on
his face.
Then Gronvold fired at Scott. The effect as the bullet struck him was
strange and awful. His body actually disappeared in a mass of flame
under the impact of some projectile of unimaginable power and energy.
At the same instant Dick slipped on a projecting bit of rock and fell
heavily on his head. As he lost consciousness he heard the crack of a
revolver behind him. Yvette and Jules, hearing the shots, had returned
in the nick of time. Jules snatched up Dick and carried him down the
tunnel, while Yvette very coolly shot down Gronvold just as he was
reloading his terrible weapon.
When Dick recovered his senses he found himself lying on the ground at
the entrance to the tunnel, his head pillowed on Yvette's arm as she
tried to pour some brandy between his lips. He could feel the sobs
which shook her, and even felt a tear on his face. Jules stood on guard
at the entrance to the tunnel, his revolver ready for instant action in
case of pursuit.
As Dick opened his eyes, Yvette gave a gasp of relief.
"Oh, dearest, I thought you were dead!" she sobbed and burst into tears.
A moment later she turned away blushing scarlet. She had betrayed her
secret at last. And even in his confused state Dick felt a thrill of
triumphant joy.
His head spinning he staggered to his feet. But he would have fallen if
Yvette had not caught him.
"Sit down, Dick," she said peremptorily. "Jules can look after this
place."
Dick obeyed, perforce; he was so sick and giddy that he could have done
nothing even if the expected attack had come.
But it never came. Suddenly as they stood there, tense and waiting, a
terrific convulsion shook the earth. With a terrible roar the great
cavern collapsed and a vast burst of smoke and flame vomited to the sky,
and a deep crater was left by the subsidence. Sick and dizzy, with
showers of stones falling all around them, they stood aghast while
explosion after explosion rent the air, rendering the crater deeper. It
was some minutes before quiet reigned again and, white and shaken, after
their nerve-racking experience, they were able to collect their shaken
faculties and make an examination of the scene.
The hill beneath which the cavern was located had practically
disappeared; in its place was left nothing but a heap of torn and
tumbled earth and rock. Its dreadful secret was safe, for the cave and
its contents, and the men who had wielded such titanic forces, were
buried deep under tens of thousands of tons of debris.
Perhaps it was as well, Dick thought. There are some forms of knowledge
which mortals ought not to possess; there are some powers which they are
not fit to handle.
Whatever secret Gronvold had discovered, it rested with him for ever on
the very scene of his ill-omened labours. What had gone wrong in the
depths of the cavern they could not even imagine, but it was evident
that the mysterious force which Gronvold had called into existence,
whatever it was, had destroyed him and his companions. And it was
almost by a miracle that Dick, Yvette, and Jules had escaped.
Slowly and painfully they made their way back to their camp, and for the
first time Dick became conscious of the great weight of the double
handful of shot which he had taken from the tank. He drew some of it
out and examined it by the light of the fire. As he did so he gave a
cry of surprise. For the "shot" was nothing more or less than tiny
nuggets of virgin gold.
Here was an addition to the mystery. As Dick knew perfectly well, there
was not an atom of gold-bearing rock within hundreds of miles of where
they stood.
It was evident that one of the secrets of Gronvold's invention was that
it gave him the power of actually bringing about the transmutation of
substances. There was some element in the rock which was susceptible of
being changed into gold by a process at which they could not even guess.
But if this were so, Gronvold had indeed, as they suspected, been able
to solve the problem of loosing the incredible force contained in the
atom. His discovery was, as Dick at once realised, on the lines of the
latest development of scientific thought.
Dick was to see the problem solved in later years by more reputable
investigators.
But he could never forget his strange encounter with the wonderful but
misguided genius whose career had been so terribly brought to an end by
the dread power he had himself evoked.