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  CHAPTER XXIX

  IN AND OUT THE SHADOW

  It is strange I remember so little from that instant when my torturedhands released their frantic grasp on the stone slab of the floor. Irecall the sharp pain, as that fair-faced fiend stamped upon myclutching fingers; I heard the echo of sneering laughter with which shemocked my last upward look of agony, but, with the plunge downward intothat black, unknown abyss, all clear recollection ceased--I even retainno memory of the severe shock which must have occurred as my fallended. Whether excess of fear paralyzed the brain, or what may havebeen the cause for such a phenomenon, I know not. I merely state thefact.

  I awoke--how much later God alone knows--lying upon the rough stonebottom of an awful well, huddled in its blackness. When I finally madeattempt at straightening my cramped limbs it seemed as if each separatemuscle had been beaten and bruised, and it required no littlemanipulation before I even recovered sufficient strength to standupright and endeavor to ascertain the nature of my grewsomeprison-house. My stiffness caused me to believe that I must have lainmotionless for several hours in the same cramped position into which Ifell, before even regaining consciousness. Another evidence of thiswas the blood which, having flowed copiously from a severe cut upon theback of my head, had so thoroughly hardened as to stanch the uglywound, thus, perhaps, preserving my life.

  Slowly I returned to a clear realization of my position, for my eyesopened upon such intense darkness I could scarcely comprehend in myweakened, dazed condition that it was not all a dream from which I wasyet to awaken. Little by little the mind began asserting itself,vaguely feeling here and there, putting scrap with scrap, untilreturning memory poured in upon me like a flood, and I grasped theterrible truth that I was buried alive. The knowledge was a deathlikeblow, with which I struggled desperately, seeking to regain controlover my shattered nerves. I recall yet the frenzied laugh burstingfrom my lips--seemingly the lips of a stranger--ringing wild andhollow, not unlike the laughter of the insane; I remember tearing wideopen the front of my doublet, feeling I must surely choke from thesuffocating pressure upon my chest; I retain memory of glaringviolently into the darkness; how I fondled the sharp edge of thehunting knife, crying and shouting impotent curses, which I trust Godhas long ago forgiven, at that incarnate devil who had hurled me downto such living death. Terror dominated my brain, pulsed like moltenfire through my blood, until, as the desperation of my situation becamemore clearly defined, I tottered upon the very verge of insanity,feeling I should soon become a helpless, gibbering imbecile.

  Yet, as I succeeded in staggering weakly to my feet, the movement andexertion served to quiet my apprehensions, while hope came faintlyback, bringing with it, as though newly born, a determination never toyield without one manly struggle. I possessed a knife; perchance theremight be discovered some opportunity for using it. With outspreadhands, and groping feet, I attempted to advance, but found I had fallenso close to the centre of the well that I had to make several stepsbefore my extended fingers touched the cold wall. This I followedslowly, passing exploring hands with utmost care over each inch, fromthe floor to as high as I could reach on tiptoe, until confident I hadmade the complete circuit. It was all the same, vast slabs of flatstone, welded together by some rude yet effective masonry, the mortarbetween impervious to the sharp probing of the knife. Again and againI made that circuit, testing each crack, sounding every separate stonein the hope of discovering some slight fault in construction by which Imight profit. Everywhere I was confronted by the same dull, dead wallof cold, hard rock, against which I exerted strength and skilluselessly. Finally I dropped upon my knees, creeping inch by inchacross the floor, but with no better result. It likewise was composedof great slabs of stone, one having an irregular crack running throughit from corner to corner, but all alike solid and immovable.

  Then the last faint flicker of hope deserted me. Yet the exercise ofthat fruitless search had restored some measure of manhood; my brain nolonger throbbed with dull agony, nor did my veins burn as with liquidfire. I felt convinced this black vault was destined to become mygrave; here in after years, perhaps, some straying hunter might uncovermy mouldering bones, wondering idly at my unknown story, for here I wassurely doomed to face all that was mysterious and terrible in death.Well, that end must come to me some time, as to all men; I had seenmany die, and, although fate faced me in far more horrid guise than anyof these others, yet after all it was merely death, and I had no morecause to fear it here in the dark than yonder in the sunshine.Besides, I retained the keen knife-blade; if worse came to worse thatwas available for release. I passed it caressingly through my fingers,wondering would God forgive its use if the moment came when I mustchoose between insanity and death.

  Merciful Heaven! how time dragged! What awful conceptions were formedin my fevered brain! What leering, sardonic faces pictured themselvesagainst the black wall; what demon voices spoke and laughed in the voidabove! At times I stood in a cave thronged with jeering devils, somewith the savage countenance of the heathen, some yet more satanic; yetever in the midst of their maddest orgies, the cruel mockery of theinfamous Naladi appeared more hellish than that of the rest. Sheleered down upon me from every side until I seemed to stare into athousand faces, each wearing her hateful, sardonic smile.

  I paced the floor with feverish impatience, counting my steps from wallto wall, hoping by this means to retain control of my brain.Experiencing the sharp pangs of hunger, I slashed a bit of leather frommy belt, and chewed it savagely as a dog might chew a dry bone. In mydespair, I danced, snapping my fingers, and hurling bitter taunts atthe unseen upper world. Exhausted by such useless frenzy, I would sinkprone to the floor, every nerve unstrung, lying there panting inhelplessness until returning strength again sent me back and forth inthat awful tramp from wall to wall. I perceived that the strain ofthat horrible haunted silence was driving me mad. There was no escape,no hope, no peace. Again and again did I break from incoherent ravingsto sink upon my knees, beseeching God for mercy. Yet I arose withoutrest, without peace. At last I sank weakly down against the wall andlay trembling in every limb, staring blindly with wide-open, unseeingeyes.

  I had come to the very end--to that moment when my limbs refused longerto support my swaying body, when my tortured brain was picturing scenesof hellish ingenuity. Ah! look! see! yonder comes now another totorment my soul. O God! Mark that grim, gray face floating againstthe wall! Away, you foul fiend! I am not yet your prey! But see! seehow the ghastly horror grows! It is as large as a man; and mark thoselong, gaunt arms reaching up until they meet overhead. Suddenly itseemed to shed a strange, unnatural radiance over the cave. I imaginedI saw things about me. What, Mother of Mercies, can it be? Daylight!Oh, good God! do my eyes actually look upon the day once more--thesweet, sweet, blessed day? Surely it is but a dream; yet no! it musttruly be light streaming down from above.

  I staggered to my feet, trembling so that I was compelled to clutch thewall for support. Swinging and swaying down toward me through the dimlight, now in the radiance, anon in the shadow, twisting and turninglike a great snake, a grass rope steadily dropped ring by ring untilits loosened end coiled on the stone floor. I saw it, never believingthe testimony of my own eyes, until my trembling hand had actuallyclosed upon it. Then, with the touch in my fingers, the hot tearsgushed from my blinded eyes, the tension on my brain gave way, and Iwas Geoffrey Benteen once more. A cautious whisper pierced the silence.

  "If you remain alive, have you strength to mount the rope quickly?"

  So parched and swollen were my lips I could not answer, yet managed totake stronger grasp upon the cord, and, finding it firmly held above,made earnest effort to climb. 'Twas a desperate undertaking for onewho had passed through the strain which had befallen me; but now, thetrembling having somewhat passed, I found myself not entirely devoid ofstrength, while an intense desire to escape from that hell made mewilling to venture. I was dimly conscious of a face gazing intentlydown through th
e small aperture, yet, with the swaying of that loosenedrope, the slipperiness of its grassy strands between my fingers, Ifound little opportunity for glancing upward while slowly winningtoilsome way toward the light. It was as hard a struggle for life as Iever made, my heart almost ceasing to hope, when I finally felt a handclose firmly upon the collar of my jacket. With that help, I struggledon, until, panting and exhausted, I sank upon the skin-carpeted floorof the apartment from whence I had been hurled into that living tomb.

  Half turning as I fell, I gazed into the face of my rescuer,endeavoring to smile as my glad eyes met those of Eloise de Noyan.

  "Oh, hush!" she sobbed. "Do not speak of what you have suffered, for Iread it all in your eyes. Oh, my poor, poor boy! I thank the mercifulChrist you are still alive. Yet I know not how long that demon in formof woman may be absent; besides, her savage guards are everywhere. Theslightest sound might bring one to the door, and it will be better thatshe believe you her victim, buried forever in that foul grave."

  I could but gaze at her, my breath coming in sobs of pain.

  "How chanced it, Madame, you knew I was thus entombed?" and my hand,yet bleeding from contact with the rope, ventured to touch her own.She looked into my eyes bravely, a red flush in either cheek.

  "I overheard those bold words you spoke to her last night across thepartition."

  "Last night? Rather a week since."

  She smiled, her hand-clasp tightening.

  "Ah, no, Geoffrey. It has seemed that long even to me waitingopportunity for service, yet 'tis scarcely eight hours since you werehurled into yonder hole. See; the sun in the sky tells the storytruly. But every moment we delay only serves to increase our peril ofdiscovery. Assist me, if you have strength, to relay this stone slab.It tested my muscles sorely to drag it aside. No doubt there is acunning spring somewhere, by use of which it moves easily, yet I soughtafter it in vain."

  Toiling together we finally succeeded in returning the flat cover toits proper position in the flooring, and spread over it a thick skin.Seeing everything was left exactly as when she entered, Madame, who hadbecome a new woman to my eyes, capable and alert, silently led methrough a narrow curtained recess to the second apartment. This hadevidently been designed as the Queen's reception room, being fairlygorgeous in coloring, the low walls covered with shields of beatencopper, while burnished bits of the same metal, mingled with dullertones of gold and iron, were scattered everywhere in strange profusion.Varied tinted stones and sea-shells had been built into a raisedplatform, on which stood a couch hidden beneath rich robes of skin, anddraped about with multicolored cloth of rude design and texture.Altogether it was an interior of rich barbaric splendor, savage in itsunusual beauty, yet possessing here and there an odd touch ofcivilization almost startling by contrast. You must understand that Ienjoyed little opportunity to gaze about and note such details, forMadame was impatient of delay, hurrying me forward until we enteredtogether a partially concealed passage behind where the couch stood.Here my fair guide paused, thrusting into my hands a quantity of foodhastily appropriated from a long shelf, concealed by a curtain ofscarlet cloth.

  "Eat heartily," she commanded quickly, "for you seem very weak.Meanwhile I will stand here, keeping watch lest we be taken bysurprise. Should I give a signal, lift yonder red curtain at itsfarther end, and hide there in silence until I come again."

  I partook of the coarse food eagerly enough, yet my eyes were ever uponher, my lips even finding time for speech.

  "Have you some plan, Madame?" I questioned anxiously. "You said butnow this house was held under heavy guard."

  "I spoke truly. I may not step forth into the air but some savage isat my side driving me back again. Oftentimes they peer within when theQueen is absent, to assure themselves that I am safely caged."

  "And this Naladi--does she treat you well?"

  The swift color mounted into her clear cheeks.

  "Not ill, so far, at least, as relates to the physical," she respondedgravely. "No hand has been angrily laid upon me since I was draggedforth from the altar-house. Yet there are other forms of torture; andshe constantly mocks me with my helplessness, and, I believe, evenhates me for no better reason than that I stand between her and theChevalier."

  "You have seen him?"

  "No; but have heard his voice while he held private converse with her,the shameless wanton; have listened to words ill suited to the ears ofa wife. She is a witch, and the slumbering devil in her has made snarefor his weakness."

  "I greatly fear there may be truth in this," I returned, scarcelyknowing how best to speak at such a time, marking the agitation of herbreathing. "Naladi is a fair woman, softly spoken and seductive whenit is her purpose to please. There are not many men who could resisther wiles. Yet possibly, Madame, were you to have converse with theChevalier your plea might break the spell."

  She turned toward me with proud, impetuous gesture, and I was surprisedat the sudden indignant light glowing within her dark eyes.

  "No, Geoffrey Benteen, that will never be. I am this man's wife. Hehas vowed himself to me before the sacred altar of Holy Church. Thinkyou that I, a lady born of France, would abase myself to beseech hisloyalty? Not though life or death hung upon the issue! If he can castme aside for the caresses of this savage harlot, he may forever go hisway; never will my hand halt him, or my voice claim his allegiance. Iam his wife before God; to the end I will be true unto my solemnpledges to Holy Church; yet I hope never to look again upon the falseface of Charles de Noyan."

  "Are you not over-hasty in such decision?" I ventured, conscious of agladness in my own heart at her impulsive speech. "Possibly this is amere passing whim, an idle fancy; he may yet emerge from the crazepurified by trial."

  She looked hard at me, as if seeking to penetrate the flimsy mask Iwore, and I beheld a pride in her uplifted face such as had never beenvisible there before.

  "Such might be the way with some women," she returned firmly. "I am ofa race to whom honor is everything. My father gave his life for noless, and I hold him right in his choice. I may forgive much ofwrong--ay! have forgiven--yet the stain of dishonor now rests upon theproud name I bear, and that can never be forgiven. Whether in NewOrleans, or the heart of this wilderness, I am still Eloise Lafreniere,the daughter of a gentleman of France. I would die by the torture ofthese savages before I would surrender the honor due my race."

  There was that in her proud speech silencing my tongue from furtherexpostulation, even had I believed De Noyan deserved a defender. Hehad deliberately chosen his path, now let him follow it; any man whowould thus lightly tread on the heart of such a woman was clearlyoutside the radius of human sympathy, deserving to be. Certainly Ifelt no call to stand between him and his fate.

  "I may not comprehend the claims of family pride, Madame," I respondedfinally, for want of something better. "Of that I know little. Yet Icannot contend that your decision is wrong. However, let us talk ofother things, permitting this disagreement to adjust itself. You havenot stated how I am to escape from this present predicament. It surelylooks a problem not easily solved."

  "Nor is it clear even in my mind," she admitted, evidently relieved bythe change of topic, "because I do not know the ending of a certainpassage underground. Yet I have a plan. Behind the curtain, yonder, aconcealed opening leads downward into an underground gallery. I haveventured to explore it for only a brief distance, but trust it may endunder the open sky. At least our only hope is that you may discoversome such ending. If not, you can only return to me, and we wilt seekother means for escape, if, indeed, there are any."

  "I am to understand you do not flee with me?"

  She shook her head gravely, her cheeks flushed, her dark eyes lowered.

  "No; I deem such move not best after those words the Queen spoke to youlast night," she answered simply. "Besides, our best efforts at escapewould be futile should she suspect you have not perished where sheentombed you. I am safe here, for the present at least,
while you canaccomplish much more for all of us if she believes you dead and takesno precautions to guard against you."

  I could scarcely bear the thought of her remaining in the power of thathalf-savage creature, who wielded such despotic power over her wildtribesmen. Inspired by fear of the result I begged reconsideration,urging her to accompany me in flight; but she was firm in refusal.

  "No; urge it no longer, good friend. I know you speak from the heart,yet it is not best. You cannot know to what depths of peril, ordisappointment, this passage may lead, while, by remaining behind, Ican help to hide your trail, and possibly open to you some way ofretreat. But hush!" She held up her hand. "It is the Queenreturning; neither of us must be discovered here."

  I took a step forward, gaining undisputed possession of the upliftedpalm.

  "I depart at your wish, Madame," I said brokenly; "but may the mercifulGod bring us to each other again."

  For a breathless instant, even while the sounds without drew nearer,her eyes looked confidingly into mine.

  "All must be as God wills," she replied gravely. "Here or hereafter,Geoffrey Benteen, I believe it shall be. Until then, continue to provethe same true man you have ever been, doubting not the trust of her whonow bids you speed."

  There were voices lightly conversing at the entrance, and Idistinguished clearly the senseless laughter of De Noyan. Lower I bentabove the white hand reposing in my rough grasp, until my lips pressedthe soft flesh; nor was it withdrawn from the caress.

  "Good-bye, Eloise," I whispered, and, sweeping aside the heavy folds ofcurtain, vanished from her sight.