CHAPTER IX

Close to the mouth of the Cave of Darkness, but cleverly hidden from the

view of any passerby, sat a company of Imps. They had been commanded to

keep ceaseless watch at that point for the stranger Prince who was

expected soon to appear, and they were instructed to seize him as soon

as he attempted to enter the Cave and to bring him bound to their

master.

The time had been long, and they were now yawning for very weariness,

yet they dared not relax their vigilance, knowing, as they did, that

they would be severely punished by the Wizard if they allowed the Prince

to slip by them unobserved.

At last one of the Imps arose and stretched himself, for his limbs were

cramped and stiff. “I go to spy out over the Plain,” he said. “I shall

be absent but a moment.”

His companions nodded indifferently, and he strolled slowly toward the

entrance of the cavern. All at once, he stopped, transfixed with

surprise, for at the Cave Mouth he saw for a single instant a richly

glowing figure standing, one who could be no other than the stranger

Prince, he for whom they waited. Scarcely had he seen it, however, than

it disappeared.

He rushed back to his fellows. “The Prince is here!” he whispered

hoarsely. “I saw him at the Cave Mouth. To be sure he has vanished, but

I know he is close by.”

The Imps started to their feet, and stood ready, the ropes of darkness

with which they were to bind the Prince clutched firmly in their hands.

But no one appeared, and when they searched the Cave Mouth, they did so

in vain.

Presently they began to scoff at their companion. “Your eyes are wearied

with long watching,” they told him. “They have played you false. Come

not to us with such idle tales.”

“Nay, but I saw him,” the Imp insisted. “Without doubt this Prince has

the power to make himself invisible. Even now he may have slipped past

us unseen. If this be so, and I fail to tell the Wizard what I saw, I

shall surely be punished. I go to warn him.”

The others shrugged their shoulders. “Go if you choose,” they said. “For

our own part, we think it not impossible that he lurks in some near-by

hiding-place, from whence he steals forth at times, watching his

opportunity to slip in unobserved. He saw you, and has retreated to it.

We will keep close watch as before. He will return, and then we will

secure him. If, on the other hand, he has power to make himself

invisible, and passes us unseen, we are not to blame.”

Even as they spoke thus, Prince Ember stood near them, listening to

their words. It was as the first Imp had suspected. On passing into the

Cave of Darkness, he had, by his own power of enchantment, made himself

invisible, and having overheard the watchers talking together, he had

paused, so that the Imp who had seen him might go before him and without

being aware of it, would guide him directly to the Wizard.

The Imp did not stop to argue longer with his companions, but snatched

up a lantern, and sped off at once, and close behind him went the unseen

Prince. As they went onward, Prince Ember saw opening to either side of

them many hushed and gloomy passageways, down which, without his guide,

he might easily have strayed, but by his unexpected good fortune, and

far sooner than, at the beginning of his journey, he had dared to hope,

he came suddenly into the great Cave Hall. Its grim walls rose high on

all sides, close hung with their swaying curtains of soot. The

glistening fragments of charcoal that covered its floor, lay like a

thick carpet beneath the feet.

In the centre of the vast room stood the Wizard, quite alone. Forbidding

enough in himself, clad as he was in long black robes, over which his

dingy beard fell from his grim face almost to his feet, he seemed yet

more so because of the huge black urns that were ranged about him in a

circle. The sides of the urns were covered with curious inscriptions,

and only the Wizard knew by these signs what deadly mists and vapors

were confined under their ponderous lids.

On a table at his side his case of evil wands stood open, and as he

needed the one or the other for his enchantments, he lifted it out and

waved it over the urn which he chose, muttering strange words meanwhile

in an unknown tongue. His Book of Craft, also, lay open before him, so

that he might diligently consult it before the working of each new

spell. At this moment he was bending above it, wand in hand, reading

intently.

Even in his zeal to disclose to his master what had happened at the

entrance to the cavern, the Imp dared not tread within that circle of

enchantment. He cast himself upon his knees without it, bowed low his

head, and cried aloud, “Sir Wizard, oh, Sir Wizard! Harken!”

Interrupted in such unexpected fashion while he was in the midst of his

wicked task, the Wizard turned abruptly and bent upon his servant a

glance of dark displeasure. “How dare you disturb me in the working of

my spells?” he thundered. “Have I not strictly forbidden any to tread

within this Hall during the Hour of Enchantments?”

“Alas, that I should have ventured to disobey you, my master!”

stammered the Imp with trembling voice. He knew well the punishment that

waited on disobedience, yet he feared far more what might be meted out

to him if he should withhold that which he had come to say. “Only the

news I bring,” he continued humbly, “could have made me disobey your

commands.”

The Wizard perceived that this was a matter of real importance. He laid

down his wand, therefore, and prepared to listen. “What is it that you

have come to tell?” he demanded.

Encouraged thus, the Imp began. “As I stood near the Cave Mouth, I had a

sudden vision of a stranger in ruddy garments. He stood at the entrance

for an instant only, but plain to be seen against the light, and then

vanished, I know not whither. It may be that my eyes deceived me, for

when we made diligent search we could find no trace, but it may be,

also, that he has made himself invisible, and is even now among us. Lest

it might be this stranger Prince, perchance, for whom you bade us watch,

I have left my companions on guard as before, while I came to tell you

what I believe that I beheld. I dared not do otherwise.”

“You have done wisely,” commended the Wizard. “Without doubt it is the

Prince of whom Black Shadow has told me, for she said that we may know

him by his ruddy garments. Whether or not he has made himself invisible,

he shall not escape me. If he is here, I shall surely find him out. Rise

now, and return to your watch with the rest.”

Silently the Imp arose and obeyed. Prince Ember standing but a little

distance from the mystic urns, heard his swift footfalls echo down the

corridor.

The Wizard stood for a moment wrapped in thought, but presently he laid

down the wand which he held in his hand and chose another from the case.

He raised it aloft and waved it in a great circle above his head. “By

the power of this wand,” he exclaimed, “I bid any who stand invisible

within this Cave Hall to become visible at once.”

As he heard the words, Prince Ember’s heart stood still. He knew not the

power of the Wizard’s wand, nor whether his own magic would surely be

proof against it. But his own spell held firm, and he remained

invisible.

So certain was the Wizard of the potency of his wand, that he smiled

grimly and confidently when he saw none appear. Leaving the circle of

his urns, he stepped to the entrance to the corridor, and drew his wand

across it. “Let none pass this threshold unseen,” he cried in a loud

voice.

Satisfied that he now had made all secure, he returned, Prince Ember

watching him meanwhile. He took his place amid the urns and replaced his

wand in the box with its fellows. He dropped the lid and turned the key.

He closed and locked his Book of Craft, also.

Then he smote his hands together sharply and, at the signal, the Chief

Imp came rushing to learn his desire.

“Take away these urns,” the Wizard commanded, “and place my wands and

book in safe-keeping.”

The Chief Imp raised the Book of Craft from the table and bearing it

carefully in his outstretched hands, disappeared with it from the Hall.

A moment later he returned and carried away the box of wands in the

same manner. With him came many Imps, who laid hands upon the ponderous

urns and with heavy rumblings rolled them slowly away out of the Cave

Hall.

In the meanwhile Prince Ember stood still watchful beside the wall,

waiting for some clue which would guide him to where the Shadow Witch

lay imprisoned, for he knew well that without this he must surely go

astray. He had not long to wait, for when presently the Imps came

flocking back to the Cave Hall, as they were always free to do when the

Hour of Enchantment was done, the Wizard gave a sign to his

lantern-bearers.

“I go to visit my sister, the Shadow Witch,” he said.

Immediately they snatched up their lights and stood ready.

The Wizard crossed to the farther end of the Cave Hall and touched the

wall with his wand. Prince Ember saw the wall part instantly in twain,

revealing the dim corridor beyond it.

The Imps plunged quickly into it holding aloft their flickering lanterns

that gave out but a feeble light in the gloom. The Wizard strode after

them, and at his very side stole the Prince, overjoyed at this sudden

and unexpected opportunity.

The Wizard paused and touched the wall again, and it closed soundlessly

behind them. Then they went forward.

Deep and yet deeper, into the very heart of the Cave they penetrated,

following its dark and winding ways. The Prince observed each turn

closely, so that when he should return bringing with him the Shadow

Witch, he might find his way out without error.

At length they reached the wall that barred her dungeon, and the Wizard

struck upon it as he had the other. It yawned apart in its turn, and

with such impetuous zeal did Prince Ember hasten toward the opening that

he entered before the rest the sombre prison that lay within.

In the first moment he saw nothing, but as the Imps pressed into the

room and ranged themselves along the walls, he was enabled, by the light

of their glimmering lanterns to descry a dim bowed figure seated there.

It was the Shadow Witch. Her face was buried in her delicate hands. Her

long black hair hung loose over her drooped shoulders and grey garments,

and fell in masses upon the ground. Plunged as she was in deep despair,

even the opening of the wall had failed as yet to make her sensible of

the coming of her brother and his servants.

Beholding her thus, Prince Ember was stirred to deepest pity, and his

heart burned to speak some instant word of comfort. With a powerful

effort he restrained himself, for to betray his presence to the Wizard

now would be to encounter he knew not what evil power, to endanger his

chance of delivering her whom he had come to save.

That which so moved the heart of the Prince to compassion, awoke only

malicious delight in the Wizard’s breast.

“Ah, my sister,” he said mockingly, drawing near to her, “I find you

less confident today than when we last met. Hope fades I see.”

His voice aroused her. She lifted her head and raised herself slowly to

her feet, and as she turned herself toward the Wizard, Prince Ember

beheld her face for the first time.

He looked upon its wondrous beauty, he saw upon it the marks of the pain

that she had endured, he gazed into the splendor of her great dark eyes,

and love for her rose within him like a flood, a love so warm, so

strong, that he knew instantly, and for a certainty, that in her he had

found his true Princess, she whom he could not choose but love with his

whole heart. Thrilled with joy because of it, he waited for her voice.

Silvery calm it fell upon his ear as she answered the Wizard. “Though

hope may seem to fade for a moment, brother, it rises fast and soon, for

there is that within my breast that tells me that you cannot always

hold me thus.”

She would have given much had the Wizard not found her sunken in

despair, but since he had done so, she was determined that he should not

guess how deep that despair had been.

The Wizard smiled contemptuously at her words, and added taunt to taunt.

“It tells you, perchance, of that Prince, then, who lingers near the

Cave Mouth, seeking entrance, in the belief, no doubt, that he can

succeed in snatching you from this prison, and from my power. But let

him not deceive himself. My guards are many and watchful—my friends

without are strong and clever. He will never be able to escape all of

these, try how he may.”

The Shadow Witch started violently at such unexpected words. The help

that she had yearned for had come! Prince Radiance, to whom she had

been so true a friend, had not forsaken her in her need! That hope, of

which she had boasted, and which had so nearly faded from her heart,

sprang again to fulness of life. She threw up her arms in uncontrollable

rejoicing, and her voice rang sweet and high and clear as she exclaimed:

“Ah, he has come at last, the good Prince Radiance! He has not failed

me! Think not that your guards can stay him. Think not that your evil

friends are able to destroy him. He has conquered them once—he will

conquer again. Already you yourself have felt his mystic power. You

shall feel it once more, my brother, when he returns. I have done well

to hope!”

“Nay, not so fast,” the Wizard flung at her scornfully. “He who comes is

not Prince Radiance, but some stranger prince. One who owes you no

friendship, whose power is untested, who has no cause to brave great

dangers for your sake—grey woman that you are. From the perils that he

must meet he will soon turn back, if indeed he live to do so.”

Undismayed, undiscouraged, the Shadow Witch bent her dark eyes upon him.

“What matter that he is a stranger?” she cried confidently. “They who

come from that bright land count themselves no strangers to the weak and

the defenceless. They have, too, their own noble magic, before which

ours is powerless. In a moment when you think not it will be upon you,

and its spell will overcome you. This prince is my friend! I know it

well! The hour of my deliverance is at hand!”

Loud rang the laughter of the Wizard. Harsh and vibrant it filled all

the room and echoed back from the gloomy walls. “Think you I would tell

you of this prince, did I not know that he cannot reach you? Far hid

from him are you, my sister,” he triumphed, “so deep within this Cave,

and behind such walls as he can never penetrate, whatever be his magic.

The secret that unlocks your dungeon lies with me only, and with those

to whom I choose to entrust it. The spell that holds it fast is the

all-potent spell of the Wizard of the Cave.”

Proudly and boastfully he spoke, but all that he might say had no power

to dim the hope and confidence of his sister. She deigned him no reply,

but by her bearing he knew that she feared him not at all.

“When I come again,” he jeered at her, “I will bring you further news of

this good prince, and how his adventure fares. It will give you food

for thought, perchance, as you sit here in your darkness.”

“It will indeed sustain me, brother,” she replied.

Prince Ember, near to her, though unseen, listening to her dauntless

words, loved her yet more for her high courage and for her sorrowful

beauty.

Still smiling scornfully, the Wizard turned away. The Imps knowing that

he was now ready to depart, raised their lanterns. Their master touched

the wall. It opened wide, and in an instant master and slaves were gone,

and the walls met silently and grimly together behind them. Beyond its

barrier their retreating footsteps grew fainter and yet fainter until

soon they could no longer be heard.

Alone, as she believed herself now to be, in the imprisoning darkness,

the Shadow Witch let fall her head and sighed deeply. “Ah, that the time

may not be long,” she murmured. “Ah, that this prince might hasten his

coming, for I am very weary, even though I hope.”

Then from the darkness near her came a voice. “Princess of the Shadows,”

it breathed, “I, Prince Ember am here.”

At the words her heart leapt within her breast. She raised her head

quickly, thinking to pierce the blackness that surrounded her and behold

the one who spoke. As she did so the gloom melted, and in its place a

soft warm glow flooded all her prison. By its rich light she saw before

her a glorious figure, clad all in deepest rose—Prince Ember, freed from

his dark disguise. The radiant brightness of his ruddy garments made

warmth and light about him. His eyes, ardent and glowing, were bent

upon her, filled with a tenderness of sympathy and compassion, with a

fulness of love, that struck to her soul. His hands were stretched to

her, his spirit drew her.

[Illustration: She saw before her a glorious figure, Prince Ember.]

A cry of wonder broke from the lips of the Shadow Witch. With her large

eyes fixed upon him, sorrow fled from her face, and in its stead came

joy where joy had never dwelt before. How had he come to her? she asked

herself, to her in this dark prison? How had he pierced the thickness of

those cruel walls? Why should his eyes rest with love upon her, the grey

Shadow Witch? And yet it was true—he was here, this glorious prince—come

to save her!

Her face dropped suddenly to her quivering hands, lest it should betray

to him too plainly how her heart went out to him, in love and gratitude.

Radiance, that first bright prince, had awaked her to keenest longings

for a nobler life, a truer magic. But he who stood before her now gave

this, and more—gave love, brought happiness.

The Prince came nearer till he was close beside her, and as he did so,

her cheek, till now so pale, flushed to a crimson glory against the

dusky splendor of her hair. Gently he drew away her shielding hands and

looked into her lovely face, bright as none but he had ever seen it.

Gently he raised her drooping head and looked into the sweetness of her

eyes. “Dear Shadow Witch,” he whispered tenderly, “come, ah, come with

me, and leave behind forever the darkness of this evil place.”

Low was her voice and soft as she made answer: “Happy, thrice happy am

I, Prince Ember, that I may leave it with you.”

[Illustration]

The Shadow Witch · 第 9 / 16 章