CHAPTER XX

AT SWORDS' POINTS

I entered the tunnel, sword in hand, keeping both arms stretched out to

feel my way. I resolved that I would always keep the left hand in

contact with the wall upon that side, so that, in case the tunnel

should divide, by reversing the process I could ensure my safe return.

I had only proceeded a few steps when the air grew cold and sweet. And

before I had traversed two hundred yards I saw a dim light in the

distance. This was no candle light, but that of day. So I had endured

all those agonies of mind with the open air but a short distance away!

As I advanced I fancied that I heard the soft pattering of feet behind

me.

I halted and listened intently. I crouched against the wall and

waited. But I heard nothing now except the distant roaring of the

cataracts. How sweet they sounded now!

I listened intently, leaning against the wall and facing backward,

holding my sword ready to meet any intruder. But there was no sound

from within, except the soughing which one hears in a tunnel; and

satisfied at last that I had been the victim of an over-wrought

imagination, I pursued my course.

The light grew brighter, but very slowly, until all at once I saw what

seemed to be the gleam of an electric arc-light immediately ahead. It

dazzled and half blinded me.

I started backward; and then the noble morning star disclosed herself,

swinging in the sky like a blazing jewel in a translucent sea.

Before me was a projecting piece of rock, which had shut off the view,

and but for that warning star I must have gone to my death. For my

foot was slipping on ice--and I was clinging to the cliff-wall upon the

other side of the tiny platform, where I had stood with Pierre, and the

Old Angel thundered over me.

And, instead of noon, as I had thought it to be, it was only dawn, and

the distant sky was banded with faint bars of yellow and gold, and the

fresh morning air was in my nostrils.

I picked my way back, inch by inch, across the ice which coated the

rocky floor for a few yards within the tunnel, until I stood in safety

again.

The full purport of this discovery now came to me, and it filled me

with frantic joy. For, since the cave connected with that platform

beneath the cataract, it was evident that by crossing the ledge, a

dangerous but not precarious feat, I should enter the main tunnel again

and come out eventually beyond the hills, even allowing for a

preliminary blunder into the wrong track.

The greatest danger lay in the possibility of Leroux or his aids lying

in wait for me somewhere within the tunnel, and I had not much fear of

that, for I did not believe they suspected that our cave connected with

the main passage. It was more likely that they would wait in

Duchaine's room till hunger drove us out.

So I started back to Jacqueline. But I had not gone six paces before I

heard a scream that still rings in my ears to-day, and a shadow sprang

out of the darkness and rushed at me. It was old Charles Duchaine.

His white hair streamed behind him; his face bore an expression of

indelible horror and rage, and in his hand he held the other sword.

With a madman's proverbial cunning he had pretended to be asleep; then

he must have followed me stealthily as I made my journey of

exploration; and now, doubtless, he ascribed all his wrongs and

sufferings to me and meant to kill me.

His fears had snapped the last frail link that bound him to the world

of sense.

He struck at me, a great sweeping blow which would almost have cut me

in two. I had just time to parry it, and then he was upon me, raining

blows upon my out-stretched sword. He was no swordsman, but slashed

and hewed in frenzy, and the steel rang on steel, and the rust from the

blades filled my nostrils with its sting.

But, though his attack was wild, the vigor of his blows almost beat

down my guard. At last a random blow of mine swept the weapon from his

feeble old hand and sent it whirling down the cataract into the lake

below.

Then he was at my throat, and it was fortunate that there was firm rock

instead of slippery ice beneath us, or we should both have followed the

sword.

He linked his arms around me and wrestled furiously, and his weight and

height so much surpassed my own that they compensated for his weakness.

We swayed backward and forward, and the star dipped and swung over us,

as though we stood upon the deck of a rolling ship.

"Calm yourself, for Heaven's sake, _monsieur_!" I gasped as I gained a

momentary advantage over him. "Don't you know me? I am your friend.

I want to save you!"

But he was at me again, trying to lock his hands about my throat; and,

even after I had controlled him and pinned his arms to his sides, he

fought like a fiend, and never ceased to yell. On either hand the

rocks and tunnel gave back his howls with hideous echoes that rolled

into the distance as though a hundred demons were at strife.

"You shall not take me! I have done nothing! It was years ago! Let

me go! Let me go!" he screamed.

I released him for a moment, hoping that his disordered brain would

calm enough for him to recognize me, and that, when he saw my motives

were peaceful, he would grow quiet.

But suddenly, with a final howl, he sprang past me, Sweeping me against

the wall, and leaped out on the ledge.

I held my breath. I expected to see him stagger to his death below.

But he stood motionless in the middle of the little platform and

stretched out his arms toward the raging torrent, as though in

invocation. Then he leaped across with the agility of a wild sheep and

rushed on into the tunnel beyond.

I drew my breath thickly and leaned against the wall, overcome with

nausea. The physical shock of the struggle was, however, less

appalling than the thought of Jacqueline.

I had no hope that the old man would ever return, or that his crazed

brain remembered the way home to the cave. He would wander on through

the tunnels, either to perish in them miserably, or to emerge at last

into the snow beyond and die there.

Unless Leroux found him.

I started back, keeping this time to the right side of the tunnel,

until I heard the gurgling of the brook. Then I heard Jacqueline's

footstep.

"Who is it?" she called wildly. "M. Hewlett! My father!"

I caught her as she swayed toward me. "He has gone, Jacqueline," I

said. "I went into the tunnel to try to find the way. He had been

feigning sleep, and he crept after me. I tried to stop him. He was so

frightened that I thought it best to let him go. He ran on into the

tunnel----"

"We must find him," she said.

"He will come back, Jacqueline."

"He will never come back!" she answered. "He must have been planning

this and waiting for me to sleep. For years he brooded over his

danger, suspecting everybody, and the shock of last night unhinged his

mind. He may be hiding somewhere. We must search for him."

"Let us go, then, Jacqueline," I answered.

In fact, there seemed to be no use in remaining any longer. If Pierre

were on his way back, we ought to meet him in the tunnel; and if he had

been captured, delay spelled ruin.

So I led her back into the tunnel on what was to be, I hoped, our final

journey. We reached the ledge. The star had faded now, and the whole

sky was bright with the red clouds of dawn.

Very cautiously we picked our way across the platform, clinging to the

wall. It was a hideous journey over the slippery ice, beneath the

thunder of the cataract; and when at length we reached the tunnel on

the other side, I was shaking like a man with a palsy.

But, thank God, that nightmare was past. And with renewed confidence I

went on through the darkness, with Jacqueline at my side, feeling my

way by the deeper depression in the ground along the centre of the

tubular passage.

At length I saw daylight ahead of me--and there was no sound of the

torrents.

Fortune had led us where I had wanted her to lead--into the open space

where the gold was. From there I knew that I could strike the passage

which led into the sleigh road under the hills. Half an hour's travel

ought to bring us to the rocking stone at the entrance, and safety.

But I found that I had entered the mine from a third point, and that

some forty feet away from the place where I had emerged before. This

time we were inside the cave in which Leroux and Lacroix had piled the

sacks of earth.

I was looking out beyond them toward the rivulet, and on my right hand

and on my left the tunnel stretched away, leading respectively toward

the _château_ and to the rocking stone at the entrance.

I left Jacqueline in the cave for a few moments and went into the

smaller one near by, where I had seen the provisions on the preceding

day. I found a small box of hard biscuit, with which I stuffed the

pockets of my coat, and, happier still, a small revolver and some

cartridges, to which I helped myself liberally.

Then I went back to Jacqueline.

We must go on. Half an hour more should see us outside the tunnel

beyond the mountains. And this was the day on which Père Antoine would

be expecting me.

It seemed incredible that so much could have happened in

four-and-twenty hours.

But there was no sign of Charles Duchaine. And I did not intend to

jeopardize our future for the sake of the crazed old man.

"Jacqueline," I said, "let us go on. Perhaps your father is on his way

outside the tunnel."

She shook her head. "We must find him first," she answered.

"But that is impossible," I protested. "How can we go wandering among

these dark passages when we do not know where he has gone? You know he

is invaluable to Leroux, and he will come to no harm with him. If we

get free, we can return with aid and rescue him."

"We cannot go without my father," she answered, shaking her head in

determination.

"But----"

"Oh, don't you see that we _must_ find him?" she cried wildly. "But

_you_ must go. You cannot be burdened with me. Give up your hopeless

mission to rescue us, _monsieur_, and save yourself!"

At that my hopes, which had been so high, went crashing down.

"Jacqueline," I said, "if we can find your father you will come with

me? Because it has occurred to me," I went on, "that if he had come

this way, his footprints would be in the mud beside the stream. It

would take an hour or two for them to fill up again. So, perhaps, he

did not come this far, but is hiding in some cave in the tunnel through

which we came. Will you wait for me here while I go back and search?"

She nodded, and I went back into that interminable tunnel again.

Jacqueline of Golden River · 第 20 / 25 章