"Miss Dare, do you mean to hang about here all day? They are waiting
for you."
"I presume, sir, Miss Dare has the right to stay where she pleases,"
retorted Eldon Brand, a quick, angry flash leaping to his eyes.
"Hardly," returned the other superciliously, "at all events she knows
better, whatever your view of the matter."
With a look of appeal from her blue eyes that arrested the sharp
rejoinder from the lips of the man she loved, the girl turned away,
her face suddenly paling from fear.
"Here comes the pirate chief with his captive," exclaimed a laughing
girl.
"Hush, Cornelia; he may hear you--horrid man! He wouldn't be here if he
wasn't so rich."
"Why, where is Eldon Brand?" said another.
"Over there, cutting a staff from the cane-brake," replied the first
speaker.
"Ladies and gentlemen," here interposed the guide, striking a stage
attitude, "if you want my services you must come right along. It is
already too late for the long route; you will have to take the short
one."
"All right," agreed the party, rallying their forces, "we'll take the
short one, then. Forward, march!"
Down, down they went in pairs along the circuitous stairway to the
entrance, where the thick darkness might be felt. With lighted torches
they turned from the sunshine and entered upon the pioneer wagon tracks
imbedded in the soil for two miles. Hither the early settlers were wont
to convey their salt barrels and other stores for safe keeping from the
natives.
Laughing, talking, jesting, the merry party went in.
"Jerusalem! What's that?" ejaculated a young fellow, with more vigor
than polish, as he fought right and left an unknown foe.
"That? Oh, that's only bats flying around. They don't stay in much
further. They'll hit you in the face if you don't look out," explained
the guide.
"Yes, I think they will," said the victim, still spluttering and
flourishing his handkerchief. "A little more of that sort of thing and
I'll turn back now."
They soon reached the avenue that leads to the Side Saddle, where more
than one merry lass took a seat for effect. They heard how an explorer
named Goren had once stood idly talking and pecking against the wall
with a sharp stone when, lo! it broke through. He continued to widen
the opening till, upon throwing down a blue light, there stood revealed
a perfect dome, exquisitely filagreed. It has been known ever since as
Goren's Dome, and a good-sized window, jagging the wall, admits one or
two lookers at a time. On their knees they crawled through the Valley of
Humility, and out into almost endless space, so varied are the landmarks
of this underground miracle. Here is a chamber too vast to be lighted
by the torches; there, a defile so narrow as to be passed only in single
file. Now they traverse a level valley to emerge at the foot of a
mountainous region that must be attacked with alpenstocks and helping
hands.
"Oh, look at that awfully dark place! It might be Pluto's hallway," said
a girl.
"Don't go that way," called the guide; "you must just follow me. There
is where that stranger strayed off and was never heard of again. He was
in bad health and came in here to breathe the pure air for a few hours.
He never came out."
"Goodness!" thundered a dozen voices; "let's move on before his ghost
appears. I hear the rattle of dry bones now."
"The Star Chamber!" shouted the guide, who, being in front, had often
much ado to send his voice to the rear of the party. "Ladies and
gentlemen, walk in, take your seats, and let me have your torches."
He was obeyed with much fluttering and chattering. He extinguished all
the lights but his own, and disappeared behind a ledge of shelving rock.
They were in total darkness. Gradually a ray of blue, then of red, then
of white light, flashed upon the vast concave roof, showing myriads of
star-like points resembling the Milky Way, a crescent moon, and finally
a comet appearing in full sail. The effect was magical.
"It is usual to have a song here, if you would like it," suggested the
guide.
"By all means," was the universal response. "A chorus! a chorus!"
Then the voices swelled upon the air in a thousand reverberating echoes.
At the close the guide reappeared and lit the torches. Once more they
sallied forth.
"Where is Minnie Dare?" suddenly asked a tall girl, whose tongue was too
voluble for the guide's equanimity.
"Here!" sounded the stentorian voice of Jason Hammond.
Upon turning back, however, he found not Minnie, but another small
maiden near him. He darted again into the Star Chamber just as the fleet
steps of Minnie Dare ran toward him. Not, however, in time to prevent
his discerning among the shadows Eldon Brand hurrying to her side.
Catching the girl's tender arm in a vise-like grip, the man hissed in
her ear,--
"By Heaven, my girl, if you don't stop philandering in the dark with
that young scoundrel, I'll pitch him into the first pit I see! You
belong to me, and I'll kill you before another shall have you!"
With a cry of mingled pain and terror the girl broke from him. Eldon
Brand, who had seen the gesture without hearing the words, sprung with
uplifted arm toward the man. Ere he could strike he was seized from
behind by strong arms, and a voice urged,--
"Don't, Brand! For Heaven's sake, let that ruffian alone till we get out
of this. You will frighten the ladies, get yourself into the newspapers,
and play the deuce generally. Come on--they are calling in front."
Hammond had seen this little by-play, and would not soon forget it; but
at present he strode on after the girl.
"Why don't you fellows keep up?" grumbled a voice as the delinquents
entered the Chapel.
"Did anybody fall? I thought I heard a cry back there," said the tall
young lady peering suspiciously into the group; but all seemed serene
in the fitful torchlight.
In the Chapel huge stalactites and stalagmites meet each other to form
arm-chairs, thrones, alcoves, pulpits, and a double niche conspicuous
among its surroundings. Standing within this niche a restless pair
exclaimed:
"What a capital place to be married! Who will pronounce the ceremony?"
"Bless you, my children!" invoked a sober-looking fellow, extending
his arms in mock solemnity.
An earnest, significant look flashed from Eldon Brand's eyes into the
still blanched face of Minnie Dare. As they met the glance it bore but
one meaning to her, and the rosy color again mantled her cheek.
"Time's up," said the guide; "come along."
It was late ere the party completed the tour of the Short Route wonders,
and there was barely time to dress for the ball-room at Cave Hotel, a
dance being an attractive interlude between journeyings.
Indoor etiquette forbade the hateful espionage to which Hammond had
subjected the girl he claimed as his own during the informal jaunt of
the day. So at ten o'clock, despite the scowl on his dark face, she
stood up in the dance with Eldon Brand.
Perhaps her persecutor might have attuned his wooing to something less
ferocious, but soft words having proved futile, he sought to frighten
her into compliance. Love's dallying might come later on. He deemed his
prize secure. She could not escape him. He held her father's honor--aye,
his very life--in his relentless grasp; for Colonel Dare was not a man
who could survive disgrace. Let her rebel, and the world should hear
an ugly story of rash speculation, involving a ward's trust money; of
financial ruin and despair. Oh, yes--she was his, fast and sure.
It required all her persuasive power to withhold her lover from a
personal attack upon her betrothed husband.
"It can do no good, Eldon," she urged; "my father has promised my hand
to this man. He is somehow in his power. There seems no escape. Oh, that
I might die and be free! It is like a horrible nightmare."
Then his words came in passionate pleading. Eloquently the tones fell
upon her ears. At length the hopeless apathy in her eyes gave place
to interest, then animation, and finally to a degree of agitation but
ill-concealed from the suspicious watcher. They were standing on a low
balcony just outside the ballroom.
"Will you, dearest? Will you be brave for my sake--for our sakes?" were
Eldon's parting words.
"I will try," she murmured softly, as with a fond pressure of the hand
he resigned her to a new partner.
Early next morning Eldon Brand might have been seen returning from
a little wayside shop with a bundle, whose contents--a ball of heavy
twine, a can of oil, and a box of matches--would have surprised his
fellow tourists. He conversed earnestly for some minutes with Stephen,
the favorite guide of Mammoth Cave, to whom he also conveyed some
bank notes; and at eight o'clock he joined the party en route for the
nine-mile tramp into the cave. For two miles the way was the same as
that of the short route, bats and all. Then came the immense hall where
rude plank seats still attest the worship of pioneer settlers in the
land of Indians and wild beasts. Here they sat and sang hymns, while
countless echoes repeated the sounds.
They paused in the Ball Room; squeezed through Fat Man's Misery, that
zig-zag passage so narrow and winding that the one behind cannot see
his neighbor a yard ahead; and then out into the ample comfort of Great
Relief. Merrily they filled the little boats and sailed down Echo River,
where abound the eyeless fish; crossed Lake Lethe, where all care is
said to be left behind; passed the huge Granite Coffin; stood wondering
before the Great Eastern; shuddered beside the Dead Sea and the
Bottomless Pit; climbed Martha's Vineyard, where huge bunches of grapes
in stone looked as natural as life; took lunch in Washington Hall;
revelled in the snow-white crystals of Siliman's Avenue; crossed the
Rocky Mountains to Traveller's Rest, and there wrote their names upon
the extreme wall, that perpetual register of hundreds of sightseers.
Here some moments were given to recapitulating the marvels of the long
route; the rivers, lakes, hills, ravines and valleys; and above all,
another black, yawning chasm similar to that which had startled them on
the short route.
"Stephen, where does that lead?" was the query.
"That leads into the one we saw yesterday. We call this end Beersheba,
and the other Dan, because it is so much nearer the mouth of the cave.
I have explored the whole passage, but it has nothing worth showing
visitors. But I have no doubt there's miles that nobody has ever been
over. It's a big place, I tell you."
"Didn't you find the dead stranger?" asked the tall girl, who always had
something to say.
"Can't say as I looked for him, miss."
In high spirits the party retraced their steps as far as the Bottomless
Pit on the right, and the black chasm Beersheba, on the left, a distance
of about five miles from the entrance to the cave.
"Take care!" warned the guide; "it is wet and slippery here, and the
path is very narrow."