CHAPTER XXV.
'IN THE DEVIL-TREE'S LARDER!'
Leonard awoke from a deep sleep, on the morning after the _fete_, tofind himself, like Templemore, in a place that was strange to him.
So profound had been the slumber induced by the drug that had beenmixed with the drink, that he had been carried all the way to Coryon'sretreat in absolute unconsciousness. When he at last woke up, he wasin one of the cells under the terrace within the reach of the greatflesh-eating tree.
No words can describe the horror and anguish that filled his breastwhen, by degrees, he realised the dreadful truth. Not only did heshudder at the thought of his own too probable fate, but the fear thathis sweet Ulama might share the same awful doom drove him almost to theverge of madness. He cursed the false sense of security that had led upto this terrible result. A few simple precautions would have frustratedthis treachery! But it was too late!
Through the grated door he could see the great devil-tree, hear theswishing of its long, trailing branches, watch them come up to thegrating and search about over its face for some opening large enoughto penetrate, even trying to wriggle in through its small slits andperforations. In the centre of the cell was a block of wood fixedin the ground to serve as a table. A small stream of water ran downfrom a pipe above and fell into a channel in the floor, and a pitcherstood beside it. For chair there was a smaller log of wood; the 'bed'on which he had found himself was simply a bag of straw whereon werelaid two or three rugs. An iron door shut off the back from an interiorgallery, and the cell was partitioned off from others, on each side, bygrated screens, like that in the front. The occupants of adjacent cellscould, therefore, see each other.
As Leonard looked round in astonishment and alarm, and exclaimed,involuntarily, "Where am I?" a discordant peal of mocking laughter rangout from the cell upon his right.
"Where is he! He doesn't even know where he is!" a harsh voice criedout. "He--one of the gods that wielded the lightning and thunder! Afterall, caught by Coryon, and brought here like the rest of us! Ha! ha!ha!"
Leonard, shocked and amazed, went to the side whence the soundsproceeded, and there saw, peering through the bars, a horrible facethat grinned at him with hideous sneers and wild-looking eyes. The hairand beard were matted and dishevelled; the face and figure, so far ashe could make them out, looked gaunt and thin. He was dressed in theblack tunic with gold star that denoted one of Coryon's soldiers.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the mocking voice. "You don't know where you are,eh? I'll tell you, my lord, son of the gods, that can kill us soldierswith a magic lightning wand, but can't keep yourself out of Coryon'sclutches--you are in the 'devil-tree's larder'!"
"The devil-tree's larder!"
"Yes, my lord; the devil-tree's larder. That means that they have putyou here to keep you cool and in good condition, before they hand youover to be food for their pet out there." And he pointed to the tree.
Leonard shuddered, and the awful truth of the man's statement forceditself upon his mind, in spite of his wish to believe it too atrociousto be possible. He went up to the door in the front and examined it. Hesaw that it ran in grooves at the top and bottom.
"Ah," said the mocking voice behind him, "that's right. You see howit's done now. They run that back from inside, sudden-like, some timewhen you don't expect it; and in come the twisting branches that layhold of you, and out you go to make him a nice meal. Ha! ha! ha!"
Leonard turned and stared in helpless horror. Was it possible thatthere was such cold-blooded, fiendish cruelty in the world? Yet--heremembered the fate of the poor puma. He trembled, and turned sick andfaint; while the one in the next cell continued to jeer and mock at him.
"Where is your lightning-wand, my lord? Why have you not brought itto try it on the tree? You managed to get _me_ brought here; and nowyou've managed to get here yourself!"
"I got _you_ brought here? How? What then are you doing here?" Leonardasked, his surprise overcoming his disgust.
"What am I doing here? Why, the same as you--waiting in 'thedevil-tree's larder' till I'm given to him for a meal--as you will be.And it's all through you; because you killed some of us and we othersran away; this is what they do with us."
Leonard shuddered again, while the man went to the stream of waterthat, as in Leonard's cell, was pouring down from a pipe above, and,filling the pitcher, took a long drink.
"Makes you thirsty, this sort of thing," he said, with another jeeringlaugh. "You'll find that water there mighty handy if they let you stayhere long enough. Ha! ha! ha!"
The man was evidently in a state of high fever. The place was full offoetid odours given off by the foul tree; and, apart from that, thewant of sleep would superinduce fever, if, indeed, it did not drive madthe wretched occupants of the cells; for who could sleep for more thana minute or two at a time in one of those dens, where, at any moment,the door might be run back and the miserable prisoner delivered overto the fatal branches? It was this constant, ever-present dread thatbanished sleep, and must inevitably end in madness for the victims,provided they were kept there long enough.
Then the thought flashed upon him that Ulama also might be an occupantof one of these awful cells; and at that such a burst of grief andagony came over him that he hid his face within his hands and groanedaloud.
"Yah! don't give way like that, my lord. Being here's not so bad whenonce you're used to it! Look at me! You don't see me worry and cry likea great girl. I take it quietly; I've been too used to seeing othershere. Many's the time I've had the pulling back of these doors and haveseen a man or a woman hauled out squealing and kicking like an animalgoing to be killed; and I've laughed at them. I thought it such fun!And now those who used to help me and laugh with me, they're waiting tosee how I like it; and they will laugh at me, too, just the same. But Idon't care. What does it matter? It's nothing, I tell you, when you'reas used to it as I am."
The wretched creature thus trying to delude himself with boastfultalk and jeering at his fellow-captive, was himself, it was easy tosee, worked up into the highest state of nervous dread and fear. Theleast sound made him start and look with straining eyeballs in thedirection from which it came. He kept going to the pitcher for draughtsof water, and never remained still for a single instant. If he sat downfor a short space, the twitching of a foot, or leg, or hand, spoke ofagitation within that would not be controlled.
Leonard turned from the sight with mingled feelings of disgust andloathing and, going to the other side, looked through the grating ofthe adjoining cell, to see whether it was occupied. And, looking, hisheart seemed to come up into his throat when he saw a silent femaleform seated with its back to him. The exclamation that escaped himcaused the form to turn, when he saw that the woman was a stranger.Her face was pleasing in its features, and good-looking, but had inits expression such a burden of unspeakable horror and despair thathe shivered as he met her glance. At sight of it, for the moment, healmost forgot his own misery, and he asked gently,
"And who then are you?"
For a few seconds there was no reply; then, in a voice that had in itthe suggestion of much sweetness, albeit now forced, and unnatural,
"I scarcely know. Once I was a happy young girl; then a well-belovedand loving wife and mother; now I am only something with which to feedyonder monster."
"Yes," continued the woman dreamily, "I was once good-looking, theysaid. Certainly, my husband thought so; and that was enough for me. Butit was my curse, alas! for Skelda, the chief of the priests next toCoryon, thought so too. He stole me away from my home and my childrenand forced me to become one of his so-called wives. And now, because mysorrowing and pining have seared and furrowed my good looks, even asthey had eaten into my heart, he has tired of me, and has sent me tothe fate that, sooner or later, we all come to here--all of my sex, atleast, as well as many of the other among those who are not priests.Yet," she added, "it is but five years since they brought me here. WhatI look like now you can see for yourself!"
Leonard looked
at her with pity; and there came into his mind theremembrance of Ulama's words of the day before--"It seems almost wrongto be happy when I know so many others are unhappy"--and his own lightrejoinder. And he reproached himself in that he had been content tobask in love and self-enjoyment while, close at hand, there were suchabuses, such direful sufferings. True, he had not actually knowntheir whole nature and extent; but he _had_ known of the so-called'blood-tax'; and had heard enough to make it certain, had he given thematter due consideration, that there were evils in the land that criedaloud for remedy.
Then his thoughts reverted to Ulama, and he asked,
"Do you know aught concerning the Princess Ulama?"
"I know that she was to be brought to this place, and that she was tobe put into the cell I occupied before they brought me here yesterday.It is underground; a long way from this part."
At least, then, the poor child, Leonard thankfully reflected, was notin one of the cells in sight of the dreaded tree.
Presently he asked the woman whether she had known Zelus, the son ofCoryon.
"Ah yes! Who did not in this land?" was the reply. "The monster! Agreat spasm as of relief and joy came upon us all--all the women, Imean--when we heard of his death. He was the worst of them all, thoughone of the youngest. No one was safe from him. Even the princess hesought to bring here to treat as he had treated so many others!"
"I know. I killed him when he was in the very act of raising hiscowardly hand against the king's daughter," said Leonard quietly.
The woman turned and looked at him with more of interest in her mannerthan she had yet shown. She scanned him closely.
"Then," she said, "you must be one of the strangers of whom we heard.But you are young, and not, as I have been told, of our race. We heardof one older, one who, it was said, belonged to our people. And when weheard that, we all rejoiced; for surely, we said, he brings us tidingsof what all have been expecting. Therefore, we who were held here in abondage that is a daily, hourly torture, a never-ceasing degradation,we welcomed your coming as a sign that the Great Spirit had at lastbrought our long punishment to an end. I, even I, dared to hope Ishould escape the fate that has befallen all others, and should live tosee again my husband and children before I die. But, alas! it was but adream--a delusive, passing hope, a thing too good to come in my time.Four months have passed and nothing has occurred, though ye smote thehated Zelus quickly; and even Coryon was filled with fear and dread.Why have ye failed to do more, and, instead, fallen victim to Coryon?"
Ah! why? It was a question that now sank deep into Leonard's souland tortured him with vain regrets and self-reproach. For he had aheart that swelled with kindness towards his fellows, and a tenderconscience; and the more he thought things over, the more difficult hefound it to feel that he was without blame. He had been too selfishlywrapped up in his own personal feelings, he now acknowledged; toolittle interested in those very matters that, as the king's futureson-in-law, should have taken, if not the first, at least a prominentposition in his mind. And then, to be ignobly trapped, at a time whenthere was nothing but feasting and amusement in their minds! Their armstaken from them--they who could have kept at bay all Coryon's soldiersand dispersed them, had they but been vigilant and wakeful! It wasa cruelly humiliating thought--it was worse; for the child-hearted,innocent Ulama, who had a right to rely on his protection, had beensacrificed also to his self-abandonment and want of watchfulness.
Thus did Leonard reason, now that his opportunities had vanished. Heknew not what was the true explanation of the position in which hefound himself; but a vague, half-formed idea crept into his mind thatCoryon would hardly have ventured upon such a daring stroke unless hehad felt he could rely upon the support, or, at least, the indifferentneutrality, of a certain proportion of the people. And if he, Leonard,had shown more interest in the affairs of the people over whom hewas one day to be king, he might have gained so firm a hold on theirconfidence and affections as would have rendered Coryon's schemeshopeless from the very start.
But such thoughts, whether well or ill-founded, came now all too late.Here he was, caged, and at Coryon's mercy. His relentless enemy had butto give the signal and he would be consigned to an awful death.
He had some further talk with the woman, who told him terribletales of indescribable barbarities and iniquities perpetrated by thepriestly tyrants under the covering of their 'religion'; tales thatmade the blood within him boil, and filled his soul with savage, thoughhelpless, indignation. Then he asked the woman's name, and was told itwas Fernina.
At last, he asked the question that, though often upon his tongue, yethe had shrunk from giving voice to.
"And what do you suppose will happen--here?"
She sighed and shook her head, hopelessly, despairingly.
"Only what always happens," she answered, in a dull, listless tone."None that are once placed here ever escape the fatal tree; except thatsometimes they are carried up above and laid on what they call 'thedevil-tree's ladle.'"
"'The devil-tree's ladle?'"
"Yes; it is a contrivance on wheels; a kind of long plank shaped at oneend like a great spoon. Those who are to be given to the tree are laidupon it, bound so that they cannot move, and then pushed out along thestone-work till they are within reach of the branches; those who pushthe plank at the other end being far enough away for their own safety.It is part of the system of terrorism and torture here," Fernina added,"to place some of us, at times, in rooms that are in the rock above,and that overlook this place, and to keep us locked in there for daysand nights, that we may be cowed and frightened at the scenes that areenacted here. Often, a hateful fascination compels you to become anunwilling witness; in any case, you cannot avoid hearing the shrieksand moans; imagination supplies the rest."
Leonard turned away, not caring to hear more, and sat down to brood,eating his heart out with keen regrets, all now unavailing. Thejeering of the half-mad wretch in the other cell had ceased; he,too, had fallen into a sort of brooding lethargy, and so was quiet;but a constant tap, tap, tap, of one foot on the stone floor told hewas not asleep. Thus the hours dragged by in silence, save for theintermittent, stealthy rustle of the branches outside, as they cameprowling over the face of the gratings in their sleepless seeking afterthe prey they seemed to scent within.
Once, a small grating at the bottom of the door of each cell wasopened, and a platter with coarse food upon it was pushed in; then thespace closed up again. The sounds made them all, for the moment, start;then they relapsed again into the stupor of despair. None touched thefood or even noticed it. But the man in the further cell had now seatedhimself near the little stream of water and, every now and then, heroused himself to take long draughts.
When it grew dark, a lighted lantern was pushed under the door intoeach cell, as the food had been. Leonard felt drowsy and longed forrest; yet was afraid to lie down or to close his eyes. Now and againthey even closed against his will in a short doze; but it was never oflong duration, and each time he woke it was with a renewed sense of thehorror of his situation.
He had just roused from one of these brief snatches of sleep, and hadhad time to remember once more where he was, when a low rumble madehim spring up and look around. Then the man in the next cell gave anawful cry--a cry that rang in Leonard's ears for many a day--and at thesame moment the grated door of his prison slowly began to move. In hisdemented terror he banged himself against the partition between the twocells, tried to get his fingers into the slits that he might cling toit; then climbed up on to the wooden block in the middle of the cell.But the rustling branches neared him, sought for him on every side, andsoon mounted the log and caught him in their deadly embrace. Slowly,but irresistibly, while he never ceased his cries or his vain strugglesand clutchings, the coils around him tightened and dragged him out intothe darkness, where his cries gradually became weaker, and were finallyheard no more; and when they ceased, and he heard the door rollingback, with dull rumbling, to its place, Leonard tottered to the pile ofru
gs in the corner of his cell, and fell upon them in a swoon.
When he returned to consciousness a bright light was shining throughthe grated door. He got up and, like one who is but a helplesson-looker in a fevered dream, he went to the bars and gazed out. Itwas bright moonlight outside, and there he saw the same ghastly scenerepeated that Templemore had witnessed a short time before. He sawthe dead body of the latest victim of the tree's insatiable thirstfor blood dangling amongst the branches; caught up, now by the neck,and now by the feet, and passed on from one branch to another in whatseemed a new dance or sport of death; and finally carried off by thegreat crawling reptiles that had come up to claim their share in therepast.
While the scene lasted, Leonard seemed incapable of volition; his limbsrefused to obey the will of his reeling brain and to bear him awayfrom the sight. But, when the creatures had disappeared, he turned andmade his way once more to the low bed, where he remained in a state oftorpor till the day was far advanced.
After what seemed a long interval, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, afterthe manner of one just awakened from the horror of a nightmare. Then hesaw the woman who occupied the next cell standing with her eyes fixedon him; and, when she found he was once more awake and conscious, sheaddressed him.
"I am sorry for you," she said. "Even in my own misery I am not soblinded but that I can see that your burden of sorrow is a heavyone--more than you can bear. Yet methinks, were I a man, I would notthus give way to it. I am but a woman, but my greatest wish--sincenothing else is left me--is that I may see Coryon once more--standface to face with him--and show him that all his calculated crueltyand subtle ingenuity of torture have not subdued my spirit, nor thescorn that a heart conscious of having done no wrong can feel for suchas he. I would give him back look for look, hate for hate, as I havebefore to-day; and make his wicked eyes quail before mine with theconsciousness that the spirit of one he has unjustly oppressed canshow itself greater than his own. But with _you_--he will but laugh atyou--for I feel, somehow, you will be taken from here to meet him. Isuspect he has sent you here first to crush your spirit with the sightof the horrors that are perpetrated here. He--have you ever seen him?"
"No," Leonard answered, staring at her in amazement.
"Ah! then you know not what he is like. I tell you," the strange womanwent on, her eyes lighting up with unexpected fire, "he is a man whosemere glance strikes terror into the souls of ordinary men. There isthat about him that makes you shrink as from some unearthly incarnationof all the powers of evil; and in that he delights, yea, more, even,than in torturing his victims."
Here she broke off abruptly; then resumed, in a different manner.
"I have been wondering whether you are he who was to have wedded theprincess?"
"Alas! yes. You have divined aright," Leonard answered sadly.
"Then," said the woman, with increasing warmth, that gained as she wenton an energy that was almost fierceness, "then, the greater the reasonyou should throw off this weakness and gird up your strength to meetthe haughty tyrant and show him that your spirit is equal to his own.In all his ill-spent time upon this earth--and they say it has been avery long one--it is his boast and his pride that scarce any can meethis glance without quailing under it. Think! Think how he will triumphover you--how he will point the finger of scorn--turn the look ofcold contempt upon the one who aspired to be the future king of thiscountry--and _that_ means to stand on an equality with himself--andyet, as he will declare, is but a weak, puling, or ordinary mortal.Ah! would I were in your place! You can but die. But I would make himfeel that I had a heart, a spirit, more dauntless, more unconquerablethan his own. Ay! I would die knowing that for many and many and many ayear to come, the remembrance that he had met _one_ spirit he could notintimidate or master would be to him an instrument of defeat and shame,eating into his proud heart, even as the suffering he has caused to mehas gnawed into my own."
The woman spoke at the last with a force that almost electrified herhearer. Leonard felt roused as, perhaps he had never been roused before.
"You are right, my friend!" he exclaimed, "and I thank you. As youtruly say, he who aspires to high things should show himself worthyto achieve them, and not even the shadow of a dreadful death andcruel sufferings should have the strength to cow his spirit in thepresence of this most cold-blooded and revolting tyrant. If I haveshown weakness, it was not from personal fear, but from thought of thesuffering of one dearly loved, and my self-reproach for having beenthe unintentional cause of it. It is well that I met you; for you havetaught me how I should meet this Coryon!"
"And," said the woman, "if you want one unerring shaft to launch athim--one that I know will pierce the armour of his pride and drive himto the verge of madness--tell him you know one woman whose spirit morethan matches his; tell him that she is called Fernina."