and what security have wethat they will continue at the task? And yet, the deed be my witness,it was a perilous journey. No man in our company could say surely howmany of Czerny's crew he would find in the black labyrinth we mustface. No man could speak of the hidden mysteries lurking in passage orcavern, far from the sea-gate and the sun's light. We were going intothe unknown; and we went with timorous steps, each asking himself,"Shall I live to see the day again?" each saying to the other, "Standclose!"
Now, the knocking had ceased when we opened the gates, and we stood fora little while peering down into that corridor, which I have namedalready as the backbone of the lower house. Lighted it was, the lampsstill burning, its barred doors shut, its branching passages suggestinga hive of rocky nests which might harbour an army of desperadoes. Nosound came up to us from below save the sound of the engine throbbing,throbbing, as it fanned a breath of life and drove it upwards to usfresh and sweet upon our faces. Whoever lurked in that abyss feared toshow himself or to cry a truce. We were hedged about by black mystery,and, rifle in hand, we set out to learn the truth.
There were lamps in the corridor, but in the passages branching from itno light save that which streamed down, green and silvery, from thewindows which shut the still sea out. Oftentimes the seven with mewould draw all close together, awed by the fantastic spectacle theseglimpses of the sea's heart showed to them. At other times the neareralarm would set them quaking, and crying "Hist!" they would listen forsteps in the silence or other sounds than that of the engine's pulseand the whirring fans. The very stillness, I think, made them afraid.The horrors of the windows--above all, that horror of the namelessfish--could frighten a man as no spectre of God's earth above. If I hadaccustomed myself in part to these new sensations, if Czerny's houseseemed to me rather a refuge than a terror, none the less there weremoments when my step halted and my eyes were glued upon the sights Isaw. For here it would be a monstrous shark lying still in a glassypool; or there a very army of ferocious crabs, their eyes outstanding,their claws crushing prey, their great shells shaped like fungi of thedeep; or going on a little way again I stopped before a giant portholeand discovered a devil-fish and his nest in the deep and said thatnothing like to it had been heard or told of. Here lies a great basinscooped out of the coral rock, and the green water is focused in ituntil it looks like a prism, and everywhere, in nook and crevice, thedeadly tentacles, the frightful eyes of these unnameable creatures seemto twist and stare, and threaten us. Such fish we counted, hundreds ofthem, at the windows of the second cavern we entered; and, drawing backfrom it affrighted, we went on like men who fear to speak of that whichthey have seen.
"A madman's house; it could not be anything else," says Captain Nepeen,as pale as any ghost; "unless I had seen it with my own eyes, Mr. Begg,no story that ever was written would make me believe it. And yet it istrue, as Heaven is above us, it is true."
"No doubt of that," said I, "a madman's house, captain, and madmen topeople it. But of that we'll speak by-and-bye; for the shadows maylisten. Keep your gun ready; there will be others about besidesourselves. Here's the first of them--stone-dead, by the Lord!"
They all came to a stand at my words, and saw that which my eyesdiscovered for them--the figure of a dead man, lying full and plain tobe seen in the lamp's glare, and so fallen that no one might ask youhow he had died.
"One," said I, "and that which killed him left behind! He's been struckdown as he ran. There's the knife that did it, lads!"
A young seaman among us shuddered when he saw the knife still stickingin the dead man's side. The rest of us drew the body out of the lightand went on again with wary steps. We were near the great dormitory atthis time, the door of which I myself had locked; but it was open nowand the lock broken. Lamps still burned in that vast room; food laystill upon its tables; but the story of it was to be read at everystep. Chests overturned, chairs smashed, a litter of clothes upon thefloor, broken bottles, an empty pistol, great marks upon the door whereiron had indented it, bore witness to the struggle for light andfreedom. The prisoners had fled, but life was the price of liberty. Itook one swift glance round this broken prison, and then led mycomrades out of it.
"The birds have flown and one of them is winged," said I. "There arefive more to take, and the shadows hide them! Come on, my lads, orthey'll say that eight were scared by five, and that's no tale to tellof honest seamen!"
I spoke up to encourage them, for, truth to tell, the dark and themystery were playing strange tricks with my nerves. As we penetrateddeeper into that labyrinth I could start at every shadow and see afigure in every cranny. The men that the dark patches harboured, wherewere they? Their eyes might be watching every step we took, theirpistols covering our bodies as we hurried on to the depths. And yet nosound was heard, the great engine throbbed always; the cool, sweet airblew fresh upon our faces.
Now, the first voice spoke at the head of the engine-room stairs, froman open cavern which no lamp illumined. I had just called out toCaptain Nepeen to follow me to the engine-room, and was bidding theothers wait at the stairs-head, when a shot came flashing out of thedarkness, and in the flame of the gun's light I saw a great hulkingfigure, and recognised it instantly. It was that of Kess Denton, theyellow man, whom I had left senseless at the door of Ruth Bellenden'sbungalow more than twenty days ago. A giant figure, the head bandaged,the arms and chest naked, a rifle gripped in both hands, this phantomof the darkness showed itself for an instant and then vanished with anechoing laugh which mocked and angered us. At the same moment the youngseaman who had shuddered before the dead, fell headlong in the passage,and with one loud cry gave up his life.
And this was the first man who died for little Ruth Bellenden's sake.
We swung about on our heels as the report rang out and fired a blazingvolley into the darkness of the cavern. What other men lingered there,how many of the driven ghouls who haunted the labyrinth received thathail of lead, I shall never know nor care to ask. Groans answered ourshots; there were cries of pain, the curses of the wounded, thederisive laughter of those that escaped. But little by little thesounds died away, echoing in other and distant galleries, or coming tous as whispered voices, speaking from places remote, and leaving to usat last a silence utter and profound.
We were masters of the bout and the engine was ours.
"Captain Nepeen," said I, "do you and three others go back to thestairs-head and hold it until I come. If they are afraid to face ushere, they'll never face us at all. Why, look at it. Seven men out inthe light, as fair a target as a woman might ask for, and they show ustheir heels. Go back and hold the gate, and I and those with me willanswer for the engine. Time afterwards to hunt the vermin out."
He took my order unwillingly, I could see. A greater devil for a fightthan that smooth-faced American sailor I shall never meet in all mydays. Keen as a hound after quarry, he would have hunted out thevermin, I do believe, if the path had led down to the mouth of Hadesitself.
"You will not go alone, captain," cried he, "that's plain madness."
"I take two to my call," said I, "and leave you the rest."
"But what--aren't you afraid, man?"
"Afraid! Of whom?" said I. "Of an old man--but that's too far ahead.I'll speak of it when I come up, captain. Perhaps it's only my ownidea. But it's good enough to go on with."
He had still something to say, and, looking first into the blackcavern, which we had filled with shot, and then down the stairs towardsthe engine-room, he went on presently:
"You take a big risk and I hope you'll get out of it. How many do youexpect to find below?
"One," said I, quickly, "and he a friend. It's a strange story,captain, and wonderful, too. But it will wait."
I was at the door of the engine-room before he could answer me, andpulling back the leather curtain I put my own idea to the proof. Justas forty hours ago, so now that gloomy cavern shimmered with thecrimson light which the giant furnaces cast upon its rocky roof. Now,as then, leather-clad figures moved before its molten fi
res. There werethe mighty boilers, the pumping engine, the throbbing cylinders, theshining cranks; but the man who staggered towards me in the whitelight, the man who uttered a glad cry of recognition, the man who fellat last at my feet, imploring me for the love of mercy to bring himfood and drink, that man was no enemy.
He was Clair-de-Lune, the old Frenchman, and I had but to look at himtwice to see that he was the neighbour of death.
"Clair-de-Lune, old comrade!" I cried, "you! We owe our lives to_you_, then! By thunder, you shame us all!"
He was pale as death; the sweat ran in streams down upon his nakedbreast; his words came like a torrent when he tried to tell me all.
"Three days