CHAPTER VI
TRAPPED!
Some thirty steps the way descended, ending in a straight andvery narrow passage. The air, though somewhat chill, was absolutelydry and perfectly respirable, thanks to the enormously massivefoundation of solid concrete which formed practically one solidmonolith six hundred feet long by two hundred and fifty broad--amonolith molded about the crypt and absolutely protecting it fromevery outside influence.
"Not even the Great Pyramid of Ghizeh could afford a moreperfect--hello, what's _this?_"
Allan stopped short, staring downward at the floor. His voice reechoedstrangely in the restricted space.
"A skeleton, so help me!"
True indeed. At one side of the passage, lying in a position thatstrongly suggested death in a crouching, despairing attitude--death bystarvation rather than by violence--a little clutter of human bonesgleamed white under the torch-flare.
"A skeleton--the first one of our vanished race we've ever found!"exclaimed the man. "All the remains in New York, you remember, down inthe subway or in any of the buildings, were invariably little piles ofimpalpable dust mixed with coins and bits of rusted metal. Butthis--it's absolutely intact!"
"The dry air and all--" suggested Beatrice.
Stern nodded.
"Yes," he answered. "Intact, so far. But--"
He stirred the skull with his foot. Instantly it vanished into powder.
"Just as I thought," said he. "No chance to give a decent burial tothis or any other human remains we may come across here. The slightestdisturbance totally disintegrates them. But with _this_ it'sdifferent!"
He picked up a revolver, hardly rusted at all, that lay near at hand.
"Cartridges; look!" cried Beatrice, pointing.
"That's so, too--a score or more!"
Lying in an irregular oval that plainly told of a vanishedcartridge-belt, a string of cartridges trailed on the concrete floor.
"H-m-m-m! Just for an experiment, let's see!" murmured the engineer.
Already he had slipped in a charge.
"Steady, Beatrice!" he cautioned, and, pointing down the passage,pulled trigger.
Flame stabbed the half-dark and the crashing detonation rang in theirears.
"What do you think of _that?_" cried Stern exultantly. "Talk aboutyour miracles! A thousand years and--"
Beatrice grasped him by the arm and pointed downward. Astonished, hestared. The rest of the skeleton had vanished. In its place now only afew handfuls of dust lay on the floor.
"Well, I'll be--" the man exclaimed. "Even _that_ does the trick, eh?H-m! It would be a joke, now, wouldn't it, if the records should actthe same way? Come on, Beta; this is all very interesting, but itisn't getting us anywhere. We've got to be at work!"
He pocketed the new-found gun and cartridges and once more, torch onhigh, started down the passage, with the girl at his side.
"See here, Allan!"
"Eh?"
"On the wall here--a painted stripe?"
He held the torch close and scrutinized the mark.
"Looks like it. Pretty well gone by now--just a flake here and a daubthere, but I guess it once was a broad band of white. A guide?"
They moved forward again. The strip ended in a blur that might oncehave been an inscription. Here, there, a letter faintly showed, butnot one word could now be made out.
"Too bad," he mused. "It must have been mighty important or theywouldn't have--"
"Here's a door, Allan!"
"So? That's right. Now this looks like business at last!"
He examined the door by the unsteady flicker of the torch. It was ofiron, still intact, and fastened by a long iron bar dropped intomassive metal staples.
"Beat it in with the ax?" she queried.
"No. The concussion might reduce everything inside to dust. Ah! Here'sa padlock and a chain!"
Carefully he studied the chain beneath bent brows.
"Here, Beta, you hold the torch, so. That's right. Now then--"
Already he had set the ax-blade between the padlock and the staple. Aquick jerk--the lock flew open raspingly. Allan tried to lift the bar,but it resisted.
A tap of the ax and it gave, swinging upward on a pivot. Then a minutelater the door swung inward, yielding to his vigorous push.
Together they entered the crypt of solid concrete, a chamber fortyfeet long by half as wide and vaulted overhead with arches, crowningperhaps twenty feet from the floor.
"More skeletons, so help me!"
Allan pointed at two more on the pavement at the left of the entrance.
"Why--how could _that_ happen?" queried Beta, puzzled. "The door waslocked outside!"
"That's so. Either there must be some other exit from this place orthere were dissensions and fightings among the party itself. Or thesemen were wounded and were locked in here for safe-keeping while theothers made a sortie and never got back, or--_I_ don't know! Frankly,it's too much for me. If I were a story-writer I might figure it out,but I'm not. No matter, they're here, anyhow; that's all. Here two ofour own people died ten centuries ago, trying to preserve civilizationand the world's history for future ages, if there were to be any such.Two martyrs. I salute them!"
In silence and awed sympathy they inspected the mournful relics ofhumanity a minute, but took good care not to touch them.
"And now the records!"
Even as Stern spoke he saw again a dimly painted line, this time uponthe floor, all but invisible beneath the dust of centuries that hadcome from God knows where.
"Come, let's follow the line!" cried he.
It led them straight through the middle of the crypt and to a sort oftunnel-like vault at the far end. This they entered quickly and almostat once knew they had reached the goal of their long quest.
In front of them, about seven feet from the floor, a rough white starhad been smeared. Directly below it a kind of alcove or recessappeared, lined with shelves of concrete. What its original purposemay have been it would be hard to say; perhaps it may have beenintended as a storage-place for the cathedral archives.
But now the explorers saw it was partly filled with pile on pile ofcuriously crinkled parchment not protected in any way from the air,not covered or boxed in. To the right, however, stood a massive chest,seemingly of sheet-lead.
"Some sense to the lead," growled Stern; "but why they left theirrecords open to the air, blest if I can see!"
He raised the torch and flared the light along the shelves, and thenhe understood. For here, there, copper nails glinted dully, lying indust that once upon a time had been wood.
"I'm wrong, Beta; I apologize to them," Stern exclaimed. "These wereall securely boxed once, but the boxes have gone to pieces long since.Dry-rot, you know. Well, let's see what condition the parchments arein!"
She held the torch while he tried to raise one, but it broke at theslightest touch. Again he assayed, and a third time. Same result.
"Great Scott!" he ejaculated, nonplused. "See what we're up against,will you? We've found 'em and they're ours, but--"
They stood considering a minute. All at once a dull metallic clangechoed heavily through the crypt. Despite herself, the girl shuddered.The eerie depths, the gloom, the skeletons had all conspired to shakeher nerves.
"What's _that?_" she whispered, gripping Allan by the arm.
"That? Oh--nothing! Now _how_ the deuce are we going to get atthese--"
"It _was_ something, Allan! But what?"
He grew suddenly silent.
"By Jove--it sounded like--the door--"
"The door? Oh, Allan, quick!"
A sudden, irresistible fear fingered at the strings of the man'sheart. At the back of his neck he felt the hair begin to lift. Then hesmiled by very strength of will.
"Don't be absurd, Beatrice," he managed to say. "It couldn't be, ofcourse. There's no one here. It--"
But already she was out of the alcove. With the torch held high inair, she stood there peering with wide eyes down the long blackness ofth
e crypt, striving to pierce the dark.
Then suddenly he heard her cry of terror.
"The door, Allan! The door! _It's shut!_"
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