THE FATHOMLESS ABYSS.--THE EDGE OF THE EARTH SHELL.
Promptly at eight o'clock the next evening the old man entered my room.
He did not allude to the occurrences of the previous evening, and for
this considerate treatment I felt thankful, as my part in those episodes
had not been enviable. He placed his hat on the table, and in his usual
cool and deliberate manner, commenced reading as follows:
For a long time thereafter we journeyed on in silence, now amid stately
stone pillars, then through great cliff openings or among gigantic
formations that often stretched away like cities or towns dotted over a
plain, to vanish in the distance. Then the scene changed, and we
traversed magnificent avenues, bounded by solid walls which expanded
into lofty caverns of illimitable extent, from whence we found ourselves
creeping through narrow crevices and threading winding passages barely
sufficient to admit our bodies. For a considerable period I had noted
the absence of water, and as we passed from grotto to temple reared
without hands, it occurred to me that I could not now observe evidence
of water erosion in the stony surface over which we trod, and which had
been so abundant before we reached the lake. My guide explained by
saying in reply to my thought question, that we were beneath the water
line. He said that liquids were impelled back towards the earth's
surface from a point unnoticed by me, but long since passed. Neither did
I now experience hunger nor thirst, in the slightest degree, a
circumstance which my guide assured me was perfectly natural in view of
the fact that there was neither waste of tissue nor consumption of heat
in my present organism.
[Illustration: "WITH FEAR AND TREMBLING I CREPT ON MY KNEES TO HIS
SIDE."]
At last I observed far in the distance a slanting sheet of light that,
fan-shaped, stood as a barrier across the way; beyond it neither earth
nor earth's surface appeared. As we approached, the distinctness of its
outline disappeared, and when we came nearer, I found that it streamed
into the space above, from what appeared to be a crevice or break in the
earth that stretched across our pathway, and was apparently limitless
and bottomless.
"Is this another hallucination?" I queried.
"No; it is a reality. Let us advance to the brink."
Slowly we pursued our way, for I hesitated and held back. I had really
begun to distrust my own senses, and my guide in the lead was even
forced to demonstrate the feasibility of the way, step by step, before I
could be induced to follow. At length we neared the edge of the chasm,
and while he stood boldly upright by the brink, with fear and trembling
I crept on my knees to his side, and together we faced a magnificent but
fearful void that stretched beneath and beyond us, into a profundity of
space. I peered into the chamber of light, that indescribable gulf of
brilliancy, but vainly sought for an opposite wall; there was none. As
far as the eye could reach, vacancy, illuminated vacancy, greeted my
vision. The light that sprung from that void was not dazzling, but was
possessed of a beauty that no words can suggest. I peered downward, and
found that we stood upon the edge of a shelving ledge of stone that
receded rapidly beneath us, so that we seemed to rest upon the upper
side of its wedge-like edge. I strained my vision to catch a glimpse of
the bottom of this chasm, but although I realized that my eyes were
glancing into miles and miles of space, there was no evidence of earthly
material other than the brink upon which we stood.
The limit of vision seemed to be bounded by a silvery blending of light
with light, light alone, only light. The dead silence about, and the new
light before me, combined to produce a weird sensation, inexplicable,
overpowering. A speck of dust on the edge of immensity, I clung to the
stone cliff, gazing into the depths of that immeasurable void.