CHAPTER XXXVI
THE RISING TIDE
I think there must be some provision of nature which in times of realdanger keeps men's minds away from personal fears. I can honestly saythat not a thought of danger for myself crossed my mind; though I washarrowed up and appalled by fears for Marjory. My mental excitement,however, took a practical shape, and thought after thought flashedthrough my brain as to how I could best serve my wife. The situationwith its woeful possibilities came first; and afterwards, in quicksuccession, the efforts which might be made. But first I must see how wereally stood. I did not know this cave and the lengths and levels of itwell enough to be sure whether the tide could block us completely in. Ifthere were but head-room the actual distance was not far to swim. ThisI could soon settle; taking Marjory's lamp which stood on the ledge ofrock I ran down the cave calling out as I went:
"Stay here a minute, dear, I want to see how far the tide is in." Thedouble winding of the cave made it hard for me to judge at a glance; itwas only when I came to the piece of straight passage leading up fromthe sea that I could judge. From the time I left the treasure chamber ofthe cave the water got deeper and deeper as I went, but the difficultywas not in this way; I knew that so long as there was headway I couldswim for it and take Marjory with me. But when I came down the straight,my hopes were altogether dashed. As the floor dipped towards the sea sodid the roof in much greater degree. I knew that there was one placewhere at low water there was only barely headway even when we stoopedlow; but I was not prepared for what I saw. The water had already risenso far that this place was, from where I stood waist high in water,obliterated; the rocky roof sank into the still, level water. For amoment I considered whether it would not be best to dive through it. Ihad the cord to guide me, and I knew that towards its mouth the caveroof rose again. But then there was Marjory. She was not like myself anaccomplished diver. It might be possible if the worst should come tothe worst to draw her through the water-choked piece of tunnel by theguiding cord. But if the cord should break or anything go wrong.... Thethought was too dreadful! I hurried back to Marjory to see how far itmight be advisable to make the attempt, however dangerous, rather thanbe drowned in the deepening water of the cave, or asphyxiated if thespace left were too small to allow us breathing till the falling of thetide.
I found Marjory standing on the shelf of rock, to which she had climbedby the aid of the San Cristobal figurehead. She was holding up the torchand examining carefully the walls and roof of the cave. When she heardthe splash of my coming through the water, she turned; I could see thatthough her face was pale she was very calm and self-possessed. She saidquietly:
"I have been looking for high-water mark, but I can hardly see any signof it. I suppose in this dark cave, where neither seaweed nor zoophyteexists, there is no such thing. Unless of course it be that the wholecave is under the water line; in which case we must be ready forthe worst." As she spoke she was raising the torch till its lightilluminated, so far as was possible, the extreme angle of the cavernwhere it ran up to a sort of point. I scrambled up beside her, andmaking use of my greater height, took the torch and keeping it awayat arm's length put my hand into the narrowing angle. I had a sort ofsecret hope that there might be some long crack or rift which, though itmight be impossible for our bodies, might still give us air. Any suchhalf-formed hope was soon shattered; the angle of the cave was in thesolid rock, and there was no fissure or even crack beyond.
As there was no clue to the level reached by the tide, I tried back onthe possibility of gauging it by measuring from low water, so far as mymemory of the tides might serve. Judging by the depth of the water, sofar as I had gone, the fall of the floor level must here have been somethree feet. The floor level of the cave was almost that of low water,except where it dipped under the overhanging roof, or where was theascending grade up to the pool in which the treasure boxes lay. As hereon the border of the North Sea, with no estuary to increase tidage, thenormal rise of the tide is between eleven and twelve feet, we had toaccount for another eight or nine feet for the rise of the tide.The ledge was about a foot above the surface of the water. If mycalculations were correct there was head room and breathing space, foras I stood on the ledge the top of my head was still about two feet fromthe highest point of roof over us. I could not, however, be certain ofmy calculations, within a couple of feet. If, therefore, we could keepour place on the shelf of rock and endure the cold we might yet winthrough. The cold was a serious matter. At Cruden where the full sweepof the icy current from the North Sea runs in shore, the water isgrievously cold, even in the hottest summer time. Already we werefeeling the effects of our wet clothes, even in this silent cavern wherethe heat seemed to be much more than outside. When we had been lookingat the jewels, I had myself felt the chill, and could feel Marjoryshiver now and again. Indeed, I had been about to suggest our returningwhen I made the discovery of the rising tide.
It was no use regretting, however. We were caged in the cavern; and ouronly chance was to hold on somehow, till the tide should fall again. Thepractical side of Marjory's mind was all awake. It was she who quietlyrefilled the two lamps, and, with much spluttering of the wick at first,lighted again the one which I had let fall into the water. When bothlamps were ready, she put out the torch and placed it in the tin boxwhich she handed to me, saying:
"We may need all the air we can get for our breathing, and the torcheswould burn it up. We must have two lamps lest one should fail. Shove thebox as far as it will go into the corner of the cave; it will be safethere--as safe as us at any rate, for it will be over our heads."
As she spoke a new idea occurred to me. I might raise the level of theledge by piling the ingots on it! I did not lose any time, but jumpingdown began at once to lift them one by one on the ledge. It was heavywork, and no one but a very strong man could have lifted them from offthe ground, much less have placed them on a ledge over where he stood.Moreover I had to bend into the water to reach them, and in the yearswhich they had lain there in juxtaposition some deposit of salt or sealime of some kind had glued them together. After the separation of thefirst, however, this difficulty grew less. Marjory aided me in placingthe bars in position; when they were once fixed their great weight keptthem in place.
It was odd how little in these moments the treasure counted for. Thelittle heap of rubies lay on the shelf of rock unnoticed, and when inthe strain of placing the ingots some of them were brushed off into thewater, neither Marjory nor I took the trouble even to sweep them witha brush of the hand into a safer place. One of the metal caskets wastumbled bodily into the water without a thought.
When the ingots were all in place, and shaken into steady position,we got on the ledge together and began to test the security of ourplatform; it would be too late to find out any flaw of construction whenthe tide should have risen. We had made a foothold nearly two feetabove the surface of the ledge, and this might give us at the last anadditional chance. At any rate, even if we should not be so hard pressedas to have to raise our heads so high, it would give us a longer periodof comparative dryness. We were already beginning to feel the chillof the tide. In those caves the air is all right, and we had not feltchilled, although we were more or less wet through; but I dreaded lestit might numb either of us so much as to prevent our taking everychance. When we stood together on the pile of gold and silver, our headswere so close to the roof that I felt safe so far as actually drowningor asphyxiation were concerned if the tide did not rise higher thanI had computed. If we could only hold out till the tide had fallensufficiently, we might get back.
And then we began the long, dreary wait for the rising tide. The timeseemed endless, for our apprehension and suspense multiplied the realdanger whatever it might be. We stood on the cave floor till the waterhad reached our waists, and all this time tried to keep moving, todance up and down, to throw about arms and legs so as to maintain thecirculation of the blood. Then we climbed up and sat on the platform ofbullion till the water rose round our knees again. T
hen we stood on theledge and took what exercise we could till the water climbed up over ourfeet and knees. It was a terrible trial to feel the icy, still watercreep up, and up, and up. There was not a sound, no drip or ripple ofwater anywhere; only silence as deadly as death itself. Then came thetime when we had to stand together on the pile of bullion which we hadbuilt up. We stood close, for there was merely foothold; I held Marjoryup as well as I could, so as to lessen for her the strain of standingstill. Our hearts beat together. We felt it, and we knew it; it was onlythe expression of both our thoughts when Marjory said:
"Thank God! dear, at the worst we can die together." In turn we held thelamp well over the water, and as we looked in aching suspense we saw thedark flood rise up to the sloping roof of the cave and steal towards uswith such slow, relentless precision that for my own part I felt I mustscream. I felt Marjory tremble; the little morsel of hysterics whichgoes to make up the sum total of every woman was beginning to assertitself. Indeed there was something hypnotic in that silent line of deathcreeping slowly towards us. At this time, too, the air began to feelless fresh. Our own breaths and the exhalations of the lamp wasvitiating our breathing space. I whispered to Marjory:
"We must put out the light!" She shuddered, but said with as brave avoice as she could:
"All right! I suppose it is necessary. But, darling, hold me tight anddo not let me away from you, or I shall die!"
I let the lantern fall into the water; its hissing for a moment drownedmy own murmur of grief and Marjory's suppressed groan.
And now, in the darkness, the terror of the rising flood grew worse andworse. The chill water crept up, and up, and up; till at last it wasonly by raising her head that Marjory could breathe. I leaned backagainst the rock and bending my legs outward lifted her so that sherested her feet upon my knees. Up and up rose the chill water till itreached my chin, and I feared that the last moments had come.
There was one chance more for Marjory: and though it cut me to the soulto speak it, for I knew it would tear at her very heartstrings, I had totry it:
"Marjory, my wife, the end is close! I fear we may not both live. In afew minutes more, at most, the water will be over my mouth. When thattime comes I shall sink over the pile of treasure on which we rest. Youmust then stand on me; it will raise you sufficiently to let you holdout longer." A dreadful groan broke from her.
"Oh, my God!" was all she said, but every nerve in her body seemed toquiver. Then without a word she seemed to become limp and was slidingout of my arms. I held her up strongly, for I feared she had swooned:she groaned out:
"Let me go, let me go! Either of us can rest on the other's body. Ishall never leave this if you die."
"Dear one" I said "do as I wish, and I shall feel that even death willbe a happy thing, since it can help you." She said nothing but clung tome and our mouths met. I knew what she meant; if die we must, we shoulddie together in a kiss.
In that lover's kiss our very souls seemed to meet. We felt that theGates of the Unknown World were being unbarred to us, and all itsglorious mysteries were about to be unveiled. In the impassive stillnessof that rising tide, where never a wave or ripple broke the dreadful,silent, calm, there was no accidental fall or rise which might giveadded uneasiness or sudden hope. We had by this time become so faraccustomed to its deadly perfection as to accept its conditions. Thisrecognition of inevitable force made for resignation; and I think thatin those moments both Marjory and I realised the last limitations ofhumanity. When one has accepted the inevitable, the mere act of dying iseasy of accomplishment.
But there is a contra to everything in the great ledgers of the Booksof Life and Death, and it is only a final balance which counts for gainor loss. The very resignation which makes the thought of death easyto bear, is but a balance of power which may not be gainsayed. In thestruggle of hope and despair the Winged One submits, and that is all.His wings are immortal; out of fire or water, or pestilence, or famine,or the red mist of battle they ever rise again, when once there is lightof any kind to animate them.
Even when Marjory's mouth was bent to mine in a fond kiss of love anddeath, the wings of Hope fluttered around her head. For an instant ortwo she paused, as if listening or waiting, and then with a glad cry,which in that narrow space seemed to ring exultingly, she said:
"You are saved! You are saved! The water is falling; it has sunk belowyour lips." Even in that dread moment of life and death, I could not butbe touched by her way of rejoicing in the possibility of our commonsafety. Her only thought was for me.
But her words were true. The tide had reached its full; the waters werefalling. Minute by minute we waited, waited in breathless suspense;clinging to each other in an ecstasy of hope and love. The chill whichhad been upon us for so long, numbing every sense and seeming to makeany idea of effort impossible, seemed to have lost its power. In the newquickening of hope, our hearts seemed to beat more warmly, till theblood tingled in our veins. Oh! but the time was long, there in thedark, with the silent waters receding inch by inch with a slowness whichwas inconceivable. The strain of waiting became after a while almostunbearable; I felt that I must speak to Marjory, and make her speak andkeep speaking, lest we should both break down, even at the very last. Inthe time of our waiting for death we had held on to our determination,blindly resolute to struggle to the last; even though we had acceptedthe inevitable. But now there was impatience added to our apprehension.We did not know the measure of our own endurance; and Terror seemed tobrood over us with flapping wings.
Truly, the moments of coming Life are longer than hours of comingDeath.