of his next proceeding.
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
IN UTTER DARKNESS.
It was not easy to think and lay plans in such a position as that inwhich Scarlett Markham found himself. His temples throbbed painfully,his head swam, and at every exertion it seemed to him as if hot moltenlead were rolling from side to side of his head. But the cool damp aircame by him in a continuous draught, and feeling now that before longthe narrow passages and the little chamber beyond must certainly growheated in the conflagration, perhaps be swept away in the generaldestruction, he set himself the task of getting Sir Godfrey upon hisback, and, after several failures, found that his first step in thatdirection must be to unbuckle and cast aside the defensive armour hisfather wore.
This done, the steel falling on the stone floor of the passage with aheavy clang, he once more tried, successfully, and, bending beneath theweight of his load, traversed the narrow passage, with a dull low roarsounding in a muffled way on his left.
The air came fresher and fresher as he pressed on in the intensedarkness, till, recalling by an effort of memory every step he and Fredhad formerly taken, he felt his way into the little chamber, havingdrawn his sword and used it for a staff, and to guide his way.
How well he recalled the shape of that little hiding-place, with itsdust and cobwebs, and the colourless strands of ivy hanging down! Andas he paused here, asking himself whether he should stay for thepresent, a silent answer was given to his question, for the hand whichrested upon the wall felt that the stones were, growing sensibly warm,sufficiently so to suggest that the fire was raging on the other side.
Taking a long breath of the cool fresh air, he had no difficulty intelling which way to turn for the further door, whose half-open edge theextended sword touched directly. Then, grasping it with his hand, itgrated heavily as he drew it towards him, passed through the lowopening, and knew that he was at the top of the long narrow descendingstairs.
What a terrible depth it seemed as he went down very slowly step bystep, but heartened each minute by the feeling that every step took themmore out of the reach of the fire, while the steady current of air drawnin from the wilderness and the lake side by the fire within thebuilding, rendered it certain that no flame or suffocating fume couldreach them there.
The bottom at last! and Scarlett paused to rest. He was bathed inperspiration, and a curious dull feeling of exhaustion was setting in,but he did not speak; he had set for himself the goal which he mustreach, and at which they would rest for the present. After he had boundup his father's wounds, he might recover somewhat, so as to walk alittle with assistance; and then the opening at the end of the passagewas there, and freedom for them both, if the enemy had gone.
But he had not reached that vault-like refuge yet, and the way seemed tobe interminable. The excitement and effort had produced a dull, halfstupefying effect upon his senses, and this was growing rapidly now, somuch so, that with legs bending beneath him, he dropped his sword, whichfell with an echoing clamour upon the stones, and supported himself bythe wall.
And now in that pitchy darkness he crept slowly along, with a singularnightmare-like sensation growing upon him; he ceased to have any commandof the power of thought, and went on and on, inch by inch, ever ready tosink beneath his burden, but always at the last moment making adesperate effort, and regaining enough strength to go on.
How long it took, how he ever got through his terrible task, he neverknew. All that he could ever recall was a feeling of journeying on andon beneath an ever-increasing load, till suddenly the support on eitherside ceased; he made a desperate effort to save himself, but went downupon his hands and knees, felt that the burden he bore had suddenlyrolled from his back, and that his face was resting on the cool dampstones.
Then all was darkness, mental as well as visual, and he sank into astupor, which lasted he could not tell how long.
The awaking was strange.
Scarlett opened his eyes involuntarily, and looked above him and toright and left. He closed his eyes, and the effect was the same. Thenhe lay for a time thinking that he must be asleep, and that this wassome portion of a dream.
But the sensation of faintness, his aching head, and the sore stiffnessof every muscle--so painful that he could hardly move--soon warned himthat he was awake, and he set himself to battle with his confused brain,to try and make out where he was, and what it all meant. For, as far asthe past was concerned, it was as if a dense black curtain were drawnacross his mind, and this great veil he could not thrust aside.
He was cold--he was stiff and sore--he was hungry and feverishlythirsty,--he could realise all these things, but that was all, and helay thinking and asking himself again and again, "What does it allmean?"
The first hint which his brain seemed to seize upon was given by a lowdeep sigh which came from close at hand.
Scarlett started up, staring wildly in the direction from which thesound came, while his hands and brow grew moist with terror--a terrorwhich passed away, as a flash of mental light illumined his obscuredbrain, and he cried aloud--
"Father!"
There was no reply, and Scarlett's horror and dread grew more intense,not from weak foolish imagination, but from the feeling that his fatherwas lying wounded there, perhaps at the point of death, while he, whoought to have been aiding him in every way, must have been selfishlyasleep.
The self-shame was not deserved, for nature had been too strong forScarlett Markham, and it was more the stupor of utter exhaustion towhich he had succumbed than sleep.
He crept to where Sir Godfrey lay, and felt for his face, which was coldand clammy, sending a shudder through the fingers which touched the icybrow, and then sought for the region of the heart.
Incongruous ideas of a trivial nature occur to people even in the mostterrible times, and it was so here, for as Scarlett's hand sought forhis father's breast, he found himself thinking of how good a thing itwas that he removed the armour when he took him upon his back.
The heart was beating faintly, but the pulsations could be plainly felt,and this gave Scarlett some little hope, such as was badly needed atthis crucial time. But what was he to do? How could he help him? Foraught he could tell, they must have been there many hours, and once morea terrible chill ran through the youth, as the thought struck him thathis father might be bleeding to death.
And what could he do? He was in utter darkness, and could not tellwhere the wounds might be.
There was comfort once more in the fresh thought which came, suggestedby his experience in the skirmishes in which he had been engaged, and byhis duties in tending the wounded.
For he recalled how, in the majority of cases, unless some importantvessel was divided, Nature interposed as the great surgeon for thepreservation of her children's lives, causing the veins to chill andcontract, and the bleeding to cease; and as Scarlett Markham kneltbeside his father, and pressed his lips to the icy brow, he prayed thatit might be so now, and that his life might be spared.
"Now, what is to be done?" he said to himself, half rising, as if theact he had done had given him refreshment and a new access of thought.
He stood for a few moments thinking, and then, feeling his way about theplace, he satisfied himself where the openings out of the little vaultlay, his doubt as to which led to the lake being solved by the stepsdown to where it was formerly water, but which on testing he now foundto be firm floor, and by the little heap of rusty arms over which henearly fell as he crept about.
His first need was light and help for his father, and to obtain these hefelt that perhaps it would be best to surrender.
With this aim in view, he made his way back along the passage, kickingagainst and recovering his sword, and up the flight of narrow stonesteps, becoming conscious that the air was growing warmer as heproceeded, and finally that the walls were hot, while straight beforehim, as he reached the top and tried to penetrate into the chamber,there was a confused pile of heavy stones leaning towards him, as ifsome party wall or portion
of the roof had fallen in that direction, andblocked the way.
He could not stay to investigate, the heat was too great; but thefreedom with which he breathed taught him that the ruins had notcompletely stopped all the chamber, for a steady current of air wasflowing past him from below.
He felt instinctively that the fire must have done its work, and thatthe greater part of the secret passage had been obliterated by thefalling ruins, so that he must not look for help from that direction.
Retracing his steps, then, he once more reached the vault, whosecoolness was pleasant after the stifling heat above. Then, crossing thedark place, he slowly descended the steps, and went onward with extendedhands, feeling his way toward the two entries--the original, and thatwhich had been broken through by the fallen tree.
He had not far to go before a faint light stole down to guide his way,and he reached the spot where the passage was roofed in with deadbranches and twigs, and as he reached it, just faintly heard, came theshrill cry of a blackbird--_Pink-pink-pink_!--from somewhere