_The worn-out Captive.--Light Slumbers.--Fearful Wakening.--The
stealthy Step.--The overmastering. Horror.--The lone Boy confronted
by his Enemy.--The hungry Eyes.--Is it real, or a Nightmare?--The
supreme Moment._
The darkness of the night and the impossibility of escape filled
Bob with the most gloomy and distressing thoughts, which at first
quite Overcame him. But at length other thoughts came, which were
of a less distressing character. His mind once more reverted to
the idea that he was held for ransom, and that for the present, at
least, he was in safety; and not only so, but well cared for. These
people certainly had given him of their best. They had made him
share at the common meal, and though this bed of straw was not very
elegant, it was at least comfortable, and was no worse than they
themselves used to sleep upon.
He flung himself down upon the straw, and found that it was a
soft and a refreshing couch. Far better was this fresh straw
than any formal bed could have been, for in such a house as that,
a mattress or a bed would certainly have been hideous thing, as
dirty, as greasy, and as squalid as the people of the house. On
the whole, Bob was pleased with his bed of straw, and with its
clean, fresh smell.
Escape being thus cut off for the present, Bob's frame of mind grew
more placid. As long as he entertained the idea of immediate flight,
his mind was constantly on the strain; but now, when that idea had
been dismissed, he grew calmer, and thought over his circumstances
with more deliberation. He remembered that one of the brigands
had already gone away, and, as he supposed, to Salerno. If so, he
would, no doubt, either see his friends, or at least hear from
them, some time on the following day.
The more he considered his situation, the more free from all
immediate danger did it seem, and the more did his hopes increase.
He looked forward with eager hope, to the following day. That would,
without doubt, bring him news of his friends, or, perhaps, restore
him to liberty. Under the pleasant influence of thoughts like these,
his mind grew more calm and cheerful every moment, and passed into
a state of tranquil contentment Besides, he was tired, and his
weariness brought on drowsiness. As long as his excitement lasted,
he could not feel the drowsiness; but now, as calmness returned,
the weariness and sleepiness became stronger, and by degrees
overpowered him.
Gradually the thoughts of his mind became intermingled with the
fancies of dreams, and blended the realities around him with things
at a distance. All was still, outside and inside. No sound whatever
arose from below. The family seemed all asleep. At last Bob dozed
off also, and passed into the land of dreams.
His sleep was not heavy. Many things conspired to keep his senses
somewhat on the alert even in that slumber of his, and he was in
that condition which is called sleeping with one eye open. The fact
is, the extraordinary excitement of his donkey ride, and especially
of his last adventure in thus falling into captivity, had so roused
his faculties, so affected his nerves, and so sharpened his senses,
that even in his sleep there still predominated the thoughts and
the purposes of his waking hours.
In this state he remained for some time, sleeping, yet vigilant,
the body gaining rest and refreshment, but the wary soul on the
alert, as though to guard against danger.
How long this sleep continued, whether minutes or hours, Bob could
never afterwards remember; but with a sudden shock through all his
nerves, he opened his eyes. He was lying, as he had flung himself
on the straw, on his back, with his head elevated against a bundle
of straw, in such a way that he could see the length of the room.
It was a noise that he heard. He listened breathlessly, and looked
with all his eyes.
Around him all was dark. It might be near morning, or it might be
early night; he could not tell. All was still, outside and inside--the
blackness of darkness and the stillness of death.
Yet now, in the midst of that black darkness and that deathly
stillness, he became aware, of a sight and a sound.
It was a low, creaking sound, which was repeated at short intervals,
accompanied by a sliding, shuffling noise. It sounded in the
direction of the opening by which the ladder led up from below.
Looking there, he saw a ray of light, faint and flickering, yet
visible enough in that deep darkness; and as the grating, shuffling
sounds succeeded one another at regular intervals, even so did the
faint, flickering ray of light grow brighter and brighter.
As Bob looked at this and took it all in, one thought came to him
in an instant,--
_Somebody was coming up the ladder!_
The thought went through him with a pang.
Somebody is coming up the ladder!
Who?
What for?
That mysterious somebody was coming slowly and stealthily. It was
the tread of one who wished to come unobserved.
On waking out of sleep suddenly, the mind is often confused; but
when, after such a sudden awakening, it is confronted by some
horrible presence, the shock is sometimes too great to be endured.
So was it with Bob at this time. His awaking had been sudden; and
the horror that he found in the object that now presented itself
was, that the shuffling sound that arose from the ladder was the
step of Doom,--and the mysterious visitant was stealing towards
him to make him its prey. There arose within him an awful
anticipation. His eyes fixed themselves upon the place where the
light was shining; all his soul awaited, in dreadful expectation,
the appearance of the mysterious visitor, and as the stealthy step
drew nearer and nearer, the excitement grew stronger, and more
painful, and more racking.
At length the figure began to emerge above the opening.
Bob's eyes were fixed upon the place.
He saw first the light. It emerged above the opening--an old oil-lamp
held in a bony, grisly, skinny hand. Then followed an arm.
Bob's excitement was now terrible. His heart beat with wild throbs.
His whole frame seemed to vibrate under that pulsation which was
almost like a convulsion.
The arm rose higher! Higher still!
_It_ was coming!
There arose a matted shock of greasy, gray hair. The light shone
down upon it as it was upheld in the bony hand. The hair came tip,
and then, gradually, a face.
That face was pale as ashes; it was lean and shrivelled; the cheeks
were sunken; the cheek bones projected; and a million wrinkles were
carved upon the deep-seamed brow and corrugated cheeks. Over that
hideous face the gray hair wandered. Bob's blood seemed to freeze
within his veins. The old fable tells of the Gorgon, whose face
inspired such horror that the beholder stiffened into stone. So
here. Bob beheld a Gorgon face. He felt petrified with utter horror!
As the face came up it was turned towards him. It emerged higher
and higher, and at length stopped about a foot above the opening.
Here it fixed its gaze upon Bob, bending itself forward, and holding
forth the light as far as possible, so that it might light up the
room, and peering through the gloom so as to see where Bob was.
There seemed something indescribably evil, malignant, and cruel,
in those bleary eyes which thus sought Bob out, fastened themselves
upon him, and seemed to devour him with their gaze. There was a
hideous eagerness in her look. There was a horrible fascination
about it,--such as the serpent exerts over the bird. And as the
bird, while under the spell of the serpent's eye, seems to lose
all power of flight, and falls a victim to the destroyer, so
here, at this time, Bob felt paralyzed at that basilisk glance,
and lost all power of motion. He could not speak. He tried to
scream. No cry came. He was dumb with horror. He was like one in
a nightmare; but this was a waking night-mare, and not the fanciful
terrors of dreamland.
But the horror was too great to be endured. He closed his eyes
tight, and thus shut out the sight.
But though he shut out the sight, he could not shut oat sound; and
soon he became aware of something which brought a fresh terror over
his soul.
It was a stealthy step.
It was advancing towards, him.
Slow, cautious, cunning, yet steady, and nearer and still nearer,
came the awful step! Bob opened his eyes, to assure himself once
more of the worst. He opened them by a resistless impulse.
The figure was now half way between the opening and the bed. The
old hag stood now fully revealed. Her bleary eyes were fixed on
Bob. One hand upheld the flickering lamp, and in the other was a
sharp weapon.
Bob closed his eyes in an anguish of horror. He was dumb. He could
utter no cry. He could not move. The blow was coming. The destroyer
was here, yet he could not make one motion to ward off that blow.
His brain whirled, his heart seemed to stop beating.
There was a terrible moment of dumb, motionless, breathless
expectancy.
The old woman knelt by his side.
She put the lamp on the floor.
Then she reached out one of her long, lean, bony, skinny, shrivelled
hands, and took Bob by the hair of his head, while with the other
she raised her sharp weapon.