MY HEART THROB IS STILLED, AND YET I LIVE.
"It now becomes my duty to inform you that this is one of the stages in
our journey that can only be passed by the exercise of the greatest will
force. Owing to our former surroundings upon the surface of the earth,
and to your inheritance of a so-called instinctive education, you would
naturally suppose that we are now on the brink of an impassable chasm.
This sphere of material vacuity extends beneath us to a depth that I am
sure you will be astonished to learn is over six thousand miles. We may
now look straight into the earth cavity, and this streaming light is the
reflected purity of the space below. The opposite side of this crevice,
out of sight by reason of its distance, but horizontally across from
where we stand, is precipitous and comparatively solid, extending upward
to the material that forms the earth's surface. We have, during our
journey, traversed an oblique, tortuous natural passage, that extends
from the spot at which you entered the cave in Kentucky, diagonally down
into the crust of the globe, terminating in this shelving bluff. I would
recall to your mind that your journey up to this time has been of your
own free will and accord. At each period of vacillation--and you could
not help but waver occasionally--you have been at liberty to return to
surface earth again, but each time you decided wisely to continue your
course. You can now return if your courage is not sufficient to overcome
your fear, but this is the last opportunity you will have to reconsider,
while in my company."
"Have others overcome the instinctive terrors to which you allude?"
"Yes; but usually the dread of death, or an unbearable uncertainty,
compels the traveler to give up in despair before reaching this spot,
and the opportunity of a lifetime is lost. Yes; an opportunity that
occurs only in the lifetime of one person out of millions, of but few in
our brotherhood."
"Then I can return if I so elect?"
"Certainly."
"Will you inform me concerning the nature of the obstacle I have to
overcome, that you indicate by your vague references?"
"We must descend from this cliff."
"You can not be in earnest."
"Why?"
"Do you not see that the stone recedes from beneath us, that we stand on
the edge of a wedge overhanging bottomless space?"
"That I understand."
"There is no ladder," and then the foolish remark abashed me as I
thought of a ladder six thousand miles in length.
"Go on."
He made no reference to my confusion.
"There is practically no bottom," I asserted, "if I can believe your
words; you told me so."
"And that I reiterate."
"The feat is impracticable, impossible, and only a madman would think of
trying to descend into such a depth of space."
Then an idea came over me; perhaps there existed a route at some other
point of the earth's crevice by which we could reach the under side of
the stone shelf, and I intimated as much to the guide.
"No; we must descend from this point, for it is the only entrance to the
hollow beneath."
We withdrew from the brink, and I meditated in silence. Then I crept
again to the edge of the bluff, and lying flat on my chest, craned my
head over, and peered down into the luminous gulf. The texture of the
receding mineral was distinctly visible for a considerable distance, and
then far, far beneath all semblance to material form disappeared--as the
hull of a vessel fades in deep, clear water. As I gazed into the gulf it
seemed evident that, as a board floating in water is bounded by water,
this rock really ended. I turned to my guide and questioned him.
"Stone in this situation is as cork," he replied; "it is nearly devoid
of weight; your surmise is correct. We stand on the shelving edge of a
cliff of earthly matter, that in this spot slants upward from beneath
like the bow of a boat. We have reached the bottom of the film of space
dust on the bubble of energy that forms the skeleton of earth."
I clutched the edge of the cliff with both hands.
"Be not frightened; have I not told you that if you wish to return you
can do so. Now hearken to me:
"A short time ago you endeavored to convince me that we could not
descend from this precipice, and you are aware that your arguments were
without foundation. You drew upon your knowledge of earth materials, as
you once learned them, and realized at the time that you deluded
yourself in doing so, for you know that present conditions are not such
as exist above ground. You are now influenced by surroundings that are
entirely different from those that govern the lives of men upon the
earth's surface. You are almost without weight. You have nearly ceased
to breathe, as long since you discovered, and soon I hope will agree
entirely to suspend that harsh and wearying movement. Your heart
scarcely pulsates, and if you go with me farther in this journey, will
soon cease to beat."
I started up and turned to flee, but he grasped and held me firmly.
"Would you murder me? Do you think I will mutely acquiesce, while you
coolly inform me of your inhuman intent, and gloat over the fact that my
heart will soon be as stone, and that I will be a corpse?" He attempted
to break in, but I proceeded in frenzy. "I _will_ return to upper earth,
to sunshine and humanity. I _will_ retreat while yet in health and
strength, and although I have in apparent willingness accompanied you to
this point, learn now that at all times I have been possessed of the
means to defend myself from personal violence." I drew from my pocket
the bar of iron. "See, this I secreted about my person in the fresh air
of upper earth, the sweet sunshine of heaven, fearing that I might fall
into the hands of men with whom I must combat. Back, back," I cried.
He released his hold of my person, and folded his arms upon his breast,
then quietly faced me, standing directly between myself and the passage
we had trod, while I stood on the brink, my back to that fearful chasm.
By a single push he could thrust me into the fathomless gulf below, and
with the realization of that fact, I felt that it was now a life and
death struggle. With every muscle strained to its utmost tension, with
my soul on fire, my brain frenzied, I drew back the bar of iron to smite
the apparently defenseless being in the forehead, but he moved not, and
as I made the motion, he calmly remarked: "Do you remember the history
of Hiram Abiff?"
[Illustration: "I DREW BACK THE BAR OF IRON TO SMITE THE APPARENTLY
DEFENSELESS BEING IN THE FOREHEAD."]
The hand that held the weapon dropped as if stricken by paralysis, and a
flood of recollections concerning my lost home overcame me. I had raised
my hand against a brother, the only being of my kind who could aid me,
or assist me either to advance or recede. How could I, unaided, recross
that glassy lake, and pass through the grotesque forests of fungi and
the labyrinth of crystal grottoes of the salt bed? How could I find my
way in the utter darkness that existed in the damp, soppy, dripping
upper caverns that I must retrace before I could hope to reach the
surface of the earth? "Forgive me," I sobbed, and sunk at his feet.
"Forgive me, my friend, my brother; I have been wild, mad, am crazed."
He made no reply, but pointed over my shoulder into the space beyond.
I turned, and in the direction indicated, saw, in amazement, floating in
the distant space a snow- and ice-clad vessel in full sail. She was
headed diagonally from us, and was moving rapidly across the field of
vision. Every spar and sail was clearly defined, and on her deck, and in
the rigging I beheld sailors clad in winter garments pursuing their
various duties.
As I gazed, enraptured, she disappeared in the distance.
"A phantom vessel," I murmured.
"No," he replied; "the abstraction of a vessel sailing on the ocean
above us. Every object on earth is the second to an imprint in another
place. There is an apparent reproduction of matter in so-called vacancy,
and on unseen pages a recording of all events. As that ship sailed over
the ocean above us, she disturbed a current of energy, and it left its
impress as an outline on a certain zone beneath, which is parallel with
that upon which we now chance to stand."
"I can not comprehend," I muttered.
"No," he answered; "to you it seems miraculous, as to all men an
unexplained phenomenon approaches the supernatural. All that is is
natural. Have men not been told in sacred writings that their every
movement is being recorded in the Book of Life, and do they not often
doubt because they can not grasp the problem? May not the greatest
scientist be the most apt skeptic?"
"Yes," I replied.
"You have just seen," he said, "the record of an act on earth, and in
detail it is being printed elsewhere in the Book of Eternity. If you
should return to earth's surface you could not by stating these facts
convince even the persons on that same ship, of your sanity. You could
not make them believe that hundreds of miles beneath, both their vessel
and its crew had been reproduced in fac simile, could you?"
"No."
"Were you to return to earth you could not convince men that you had
existed without breath, with a heart dead within you. If you should try
to impress on mankind the facts that you have learned in this journey,
what would be the result?"
"I would probably be considered mentally deranged; this I have before
admitted."
"Would it not be better then," he continued, "to go with me, by your own
free will, into the unknown future, which you need fear less than a
return to the scoffing multitude amid the storms of upper earth? You
know that I have not at any time deceived you. I have, as yet, only
opened before you a part of one rare page out of the boundless book of
nature; you have tasted of the sweets of which few persons in the flesh
have sipped, and I now promise you a further store of knowledge that is
rich beyond conception, if you wish to continue your journey."
"What if I decide to return?"
"I will retrace my footsteps and liberate you upon the surface of the
earth, as I have others, for few persons have courage enough to pass
this spot."
"Binding me to an oath of secrecy?"
[Illustration: "SPRUNG FROM THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF INTO THE ABYSS BELOW,
CARRYING ME WITH HIM INTO ITS DEPTHS."]
"No," he answered; "for if you relate these events men will consider you
a madman, and the more clearly you attempt to explain the facts that you
have witnessed, the less they will listen to you; such has been the fate
of others."
"It is, indeed, better for me to go with you," I said musingly; "to that
effect my mind is now made up, my course is clear, I am ready."
With a motion so quick in conception, and rapid in execution that I was
taken altogether by surprise, with a grasp so powerful that I could not
have repelled him, had I expected the movement and tried to protect
myself, the strange man, or being beside me, threw his arms around my
body. Then, as a part of the same movement, he raised me bodily from the
stone, and before I could realize the nature of his intention, sprung
from the edge of the cliff into the abyss below, carrying me with him
into its depths.