CHAPTER XXXVII

ROUND THE CLOCK

When the water had fallen so far that we could sit on the ledge, we

rested for a few minutes to relieve the long and terrible strain of

standing, cramped and chilled as we were. But we soon felt the chill of

the water and stood again till the rocky ledge was quite free. Then we

enjoyed a rest, if the word "enjoyment" could be applied to our wearied,

teeth-chattering, exhausted condition. I made Marjory sit on my lap, so

that we could get some warmth together, and that she might be saved from

the benumbing coldness of the rock. We wrung out our clothes as well as

we could, and with braver hearts set ourselves down to the second spell

of our dark captivity. Well we knew that the tide had risen higher than

the tin box in the corner of the cave, and tacitly put off the moment of

assured knowledge. Presently when the chill had somewhat passed from her

and she shivered less, she stood up and tried to get down the box. She

could not reach it, so I rose and took it down. Then we resumed our

places on the ledge, and, with the box beside us, began to investigate.

It was a sadly helpless performance. In the dark everything seemed

strange, with regard to size as well as to shape. Our wet hands could

not of themselves discriminate as to whether anything was wet or dry.

It was only when we found that the box was quite full of water that we

realised that there was no hope of light in this quarter, and that we

must have patience through the darkness as well as we could. I think

that Marjory cried a little. She covered it up for me in some womanly

way. But there are eyes in the soul that can see even through cimmerian

gloom; and I knew that she cried, though my senses could detect no sign.

When I touched her face, my wet hands and my own wet face could tell me

nothing. Still we were happy in a way. The fear of death had passed, and

we were only waiting for light and warmth. We knew that every minute,

every breath we drew, the tide was falling; and we knew too that we

could grope our way through the cavern. We rejoiced now that there was

no labyrinth of offshoots of the cave; and we were additionally glad

that our clue, the cord which we had taken with us, remained. We could

easily pick it up when we should begin to move, for there was no stir of

water to shift it and draw it away.

When we thought that a sufficient time must have elapsed, even at the

deadly slow pace at which it crawled, we kissed each other and began our

first effort to escape.

We easily found the cord, and keeping hold of it, felt our way slowly

along the rugged wall. I made Marjory keep close behind me, a little to

the right, for I was feeling way by the left hand alone. I feared lest

she should get bruised by the jagged rock which protruded here and

there. It was well I did so, for in the first dozen yards I got some

severe knocks that might have permanently scarred her tender skin. The

experience made me careful, however, and after it I took care to feel my

way all round before advancing a step. I found by experience that it was

the cord which had misled me by straining where there was a curve or an

angle, and so taking me close to the rock instead of in the middle of

the passage where we had originally dropped it as we went along.

When we had passed the first two bends, the anxious time came; it was

here that the roof dropped, and we did not know if the tide had fallen

low enough to let us through. We pushed on however into the deepening

water, Marjory still keeping close behind me, though I wished to go on

alone and explore. We found that the rock dipped below the water level

when we had gone some way into the tunnel. So we came back and waited

a good while--it seemed a long, long time. Then we essayed again, and

found that though the water was still high there were some inches of

space between rock and water.

Joyfully we pushed on slowly; our hearts beat gladly when we could raise

our heads from the stooping position and raise them freely in the air.

It only took us a few minutes to reach the pile of rocks; then holding

the cord as a clue to the narrow opening we scrambled up as well as we

could. I helped Marjory as much as possible, but in this matter she

was as good as I was; nay better, for all her woman's instinct came to

aid, and it was she who first got through the narrow hole. Then very

carefully we climbed down the other side, and, still holding our guiding

cord, came at last to the tackle by which we had lowered ourselves into

the cave. It was rather a surprise to us when we reached it, for we

expected to see the welcome light through the opening before we had come

under it.

At first, in the whirl of thoughts, I imagined that something had gone

wrong, a rock fallen in, or some sort of general collapse. Then I

fancied that we had been tracked down, and that some one had tried to

bury us in the cave. It is wonderful what strange thoughts come to

one in a prolonged spell of absolute darkness; no wonder that even

low-grade, violent, unimaginative criminals break down in the black

hole! Marjory said nothing; but when she spoke, it was evident from her

words that she had some of the same ideas herself. There was a tone of

relief in her voice which was unmistakable, and which must have followed

some disconcerting thought:

"Of course not! It is only that the lamps and candles have burned

out. We have forgotten the long time which has passed; but the lights

haven't!" It was evident enough now. We had been so many hours in the

cave that the lights were exhausted; and at no time was there a gleam of

natural light in the cellar.

I found it a little difficult to work the tackle in the dark with my

numbed hands. Hope, however, is a paramount force, and very soon Marjory

was swinging up through the hole in the rock. I called to her to get

light as soon as she could; but she refused point blank to do anything

until I was beside her. When I got the rope round me, we both pulled;

and in a very few seconds I too was up through the hole and in the

cellar. I found the matches easily enough and oh! the glorious sight of

the light even in this spluttering form. We did not linger an instant

but moved to the door, which I unlocked, and we stepped out and ran

up the steps. The lantern on the roof which lit the staircase was all

ablaze with sunshine, and we felt bathed in light. For a second or two

we could not realise it, and blinked under the too magnificent glare.

And then, with inconceivable rapidity, we came back to the serenity and

confidence which comes with daylight. In less than a second we were

again in the realities of life; and the whole long night of darkness and

fear was behind us like a dream.

I hurried Marjory into the room where she had dressed, and where were

a store of her clothes; and then I proceeded to make up a fire. The

chimney place in the dining room was made after the old fashion, wide

and deep, and had in the back a beautiful old steel rack with brackets

on which to hang pots and kettles. I thought this would be the best

place for a fire, as it was the biggest in the house. So I got from

the fuel house off the kitchen an armful of dry furze and another of

cut billets of pine which I dumped on top of it. A single match was

sufficient, and in an instant, there was a large fire roaring up the

chimney. I filled a great copper kettle with water and slung it in the

blaze, and then, when I found myself in a cloud of steam from my wet

clothes, ran into my own room. After a hard rub down which made my skin

glow, and a wash which was exquisite, I put myself into dry clothes.

When I came back to the dining room I found Marjory busy getting ready

a meal--supper, breakfast, dinner, we did not know what to call it.

One glad moment in each other's arms, and then kneeling together we

thanked God for the great mercy which He had shown us. Then we resumed

preparations to eat, for we were ravenous. The kettle was beginning to

sing, and we soon had hot delicious tea, which sent a glow through us.

There were plenty of cooked provisions, and we did not wait to warm

them: such luxuries as hot food would come into our lives later. It was

only when we had satisfied our appetites that we thought of looking at

the time. My own watch had stopped when I had first tried the entrance

to the great cave and had been waist high in water, but Marjory had left

hers in her room when she had changed her dress for the expedition. It

was now one o'clock and as the sun was high in the heavens it was--P. M.

Allowing for the time of dressing and eating, we must have been in all

in the caves some twelve hours. I looked amongst my books and found

Whittaker's Almanach, from which I gathered that as the tide was full at

half past six o'clock we must as the normal rise of the tide was between

eleven and twelve feet have been immersed in the water some four hours.

The very thought of it made us shudder; with an instinctive remembrance

of our danger and misery we drew close together.

Then a heavy sleepiness seemed all at once to settle on us. Marjory

would not leave me, and I did not wish her to. I felt, as she did, that

we could not sleep easily if separated. So I got great armloads of rugs

and cushions and made up two nests close to the fire which I built up

with solid logs. I wrapped her in a great, warm plaid and myself in

another, and we sank down on our couches, holding hands and with her

head upon my shoulder.

When I woke it was almost pitch dark; only for a slight glow which came

from the mass of red embers on the hearth the darkness would have been

as complete as that of the cave. It is true that the sunblinds were down

and the curtains drawn; but even so, when there was light outside some

gleams of it even, if only reflected, found their way in. Marjory was

still sleeping as I stole softly to the window and looked out.

All was dark. The moon was hidden behind a bank of cloud, only the edges

of which tinged with light showed its place in the heavens. I looked at

Marjory's watch which she had laid upon the table, having wound it up

instinctively before the sleepiness had come upon her. It was now a few

minutes past one.

We had slept right round the clock.

I began to make up the fire as softly as I could, for I did not wish to

wake Marjory. I felt that sleep and plenty of it was the best thing for

her after the prolonged strain and trial which she had undergone. I got

ready clean plates and knives and forks, and put on the kettle again.

Whilst I was moving about, she woke. For an instant or two she looked

round in a dazed uncomprehending way; and then all at once the whole

remembrance of the night swept across her. In a single bound, with the

agility of a young panther, she sprang to her feet, and in an instant

her arms were round me, half protectingly and whole lovingly.

We had another hearty meal. It was pic-nic-ing _in excelsis_, and I

doubt if the whole world held two happier beings. Presently we began to

talk of the cave and of the treasure, and I was rejoiced to find that

all the trial and anxiety had left no trace on Marjory's courage. It was

she herself who suggested that we should go back to the cave and take

out what she called those dear little boxes. We put on once more our

cave clothes, which were dry again but which had shrunk lamentably, and

laughing at each other's grotesque appearance we went down into the

cellar again. Having renewed the lamps and made all safe for our return,

we took lamps and torches and matches and set out on our quest. I think

we both felt a little awed--we were certainly silent--as we crept

through the hole over the moraine and took our way up the treasure cave.

I confess that my own heart sank within me when we saw the ledge, with

the San Cristobal and the infant Christ seeming to keep guard upon it;

and I felt a pity, which I had not felt before, for the would-be thief,

Olgaref. Marjory I think felt the same way as I did, for she kept very

close to me and now and again held on to me; but she said nothing. We

lit a torch and renewed our search. Whilst I stooped over the box and

took out other caskets containing gems, Marjory held the light with one

hand whilst she gathered the little heap of rubies from the first box

and put them in the pocket of my jacket. Her feminine care was shown

in her searching for the box and the rubies which had fallen into the

water so that none might be lost. There were not many of the little

caskets--it is astounding what a small space will contain a many

precious gems. They easily fitted into the bag which I had brought for

the purpose. Then we took our way back to the house.

When we had ascended, we put out the lights and locked the cellar. We

changed our clothes again, Marjory putting on her livery; it was now

nearly four o'clock in the morning, and it was time to be getting back

to Crom.

The Mystery of the Sea · 第 37 / 53 章