“The disk cannot err,” said AL “Let us try the water in the font.”
“But that reflects the living, you say; she is dead.”
“The disk cannot err,” persisted Ai. He turned to the font, gazed in its surface, and then beckoned Reuel to approach. From the glassy surface Dianthe’s face gazed back at him, worn and lined with grief.
“’Tis she!” he cried, “her very self.”
“Then your friend still lives,” said Ai, calmly.
“Impossible!”
“Why do you doubt my word, Ergamenes?”
Then with great suppressed excitement and much agitation, Reuel repeated the story of Dianthe’s death as brought to him by the last mail he had received from America.
“You say that ‘Molly,’ as you call her, was also drowned?”
“Yes.”
“Let us try the disk.”
They returned to the mirror and instantly the face of Molly Vance gazed at them from the river’s bed, surrounded by seaweed and grasses.
“Can a man believe in his own sanity!” exclaimed Reuel in an agony of perplexity.
Ai made no reply, but returned to the font. “I think it best to call up the face of your enemy. I am sure you have one.” Immediately the water reflected the debonair face of Aubrey Livingston, which was almost instantly blotted out by the face of Jim Titus.
“Two!” murmured Ai. “I thought so.”
“If she then lives, as your science seems to insist, show me her present situation,” cried Reuel, beside himself with fears.
“I must have a special preparation for the present,” said Ai, calmly. He set about preparing a liquid mixture. When this was accomplished he washed the face of the disk with a small sponge dipped in the mixture. A film of sediment instantly formed upon it.
“When this has dried, I will scrape it off and polish the mirror, then we shall be ready for the demonstration. One picture only will come—this will remain for a number of days, after that the disk will return to its normal condition. But, see! The sediment is caked. Now to remove it and finish our test.” At last it was done, and the disk repolished. Then standing before it, Ai cried, in an earnest voice:
“Let the present appear upon the disk, if it be for the benefit of Thy human subjects!”
Ai appeared perfectly calm, but his hands shook. Reuel remained a short remove from him, awaiting his summons.
“Come, Ergamenes.”
For a few moments Reuel gazed upon the plate, his eyes brilliant with expectation, his cheeks aglow with excitement. Then he involuntarily shuddered, a half suppressed groan escaped him, and he grew ashy pale. In a trice he became entirely unnerved, and staggered back and forth like a drunken man. Greatly alarmed, and seeing he was about to fall, Ai sprang to his side and caught him. Too late. He fell to the floor in a swoon. The picture reflected by the disk was that of the ancestral home of the Livingstons. It showed the parlor of a fine old mansion; two figures stood at an open window, their faces turned to the interior. About the woman’s waist the man’s arm was twined in a loving embrace. The faces were those of Aubrey and Dianthe.
Late that night Reuel tossed upon his silken couch in distress of mind. If the disk were true, then Dianthe and Aubrey both lived and were together. He was torn by doubts, haunted by dreadful fears of he knew not what. If the story of the disk were true, never was man so deceived and duped as he had been. Then in the midst of his anger and despair came an irresistible impulse to rise from his bed. He did so, and distinctly felt the pressure of a soft hand upon his brow, and a yielding body at his side. The next instant he could have sworn that he heard the well-known tones of Dianthe in his ears, saying:
“Reuel, it is I.”
Unable to answer, but entirely conscious of a presence near him, he had presence of mind enough to reiterate a mental question. His voiceless question was fully understood, for again the familiar voice spoke:
“I am not dead, my husband; but I am lost to you. Not of my own seeking has this treachery been to thee, O beloved. The friend into whose care you gave me has acquired the power over me that you alone possessed, that power sacred to our first meeting and our happy love. Why did you leave me in the power of a fiend in human shape, to search for gold? There are worse things in life than poverty.”
Calming the frenzy of his thoughts by a strong effort, Reuel continued his mental questions until the whole pitiful story was his. He knew not how long he continued in this communion. Over and over he turned the story he had learned in the past few hours. Ungovernable rage against his false friend possessed him. “Blind, fool, dupe, dotard!” he called himself, not to have seen the treachery beneath the mask of friendship. And then to leave her helpless in the hands of this monster, who had not even spared his own betrothed to compass his love for another.
But at least revenge was left him. He would return to America and confront Aubrey Livingston with his guilt. But how to get away from the hidden city. He knew that virtually he was a prisoner.
Still turning over ways and means, he fell into an uneasy slumber, from which he was aroused by a dreadful shriek.
CHAPTER XVIII
IT was now two months since Reuel’s strange disappearance from the camp of the explorers. Day after day they had searched every inch of the ground within and about the pyramids, with no success. Charlie Vance was inconsolable, and declared his intention of making his home at Meroe until Reuel was found. He scouted the idea of his death by falling a prey to wild beasts, and hung about the vicinity of the Great Pyramid with stubborn persistence. He was no longer the spoiled darling of wealth and fashion, but a serious-minded man of a taciturn disposition.
He spent money like water in his endeavor to find the secret passage, believing that it existed, and that in it Reuel was lost.
One morning he and Jim Titus laid bare a beautifully worked marble wall, built of fine masonry, with even blocks, each a meter and a half long, and below the exquisitely worked moulding two further layers of well-worked calcareous stone. The whole formed a foundation for a structure which had fallen into ruins about two and a half meters high. But this wall continued for thirteen meters only, and then returned at right angles at each end. On the inner side this marble structure was backed by large blocks of calcareous stone, and in the inner angles, they had with much labor to break up and remove two layers of blocks superimposed at right angles, one upon another. The entire party was much puzzled to learn what this structure could have been.
Sculptures and paintings lined the walls. As usual, there was a queen, attired in a long robe. The queen had in one hand the lash of Osiris and in the other a lotus flower.
At the extremity of each portico was the representation of a monolithic temple, above which were the traces of a funeral boat filled with figures.
After two days’ work, the skilled diggers assured the explorers that they could do nothing with the debris but to leave it, as it was impossible to open the structure. But in the night, Charlie was kept awake by the thought that this curious structure might hold the expedition’s secret; and remembering that perseverance was never beaten, set to work there the next morning, digging into the interior and breaking up the huge blocks which impeded his progress. The next day another impediment was reached, and it was decided to give it up. Again Charlie was awake all night, puzzling over the difficulties encountered, and again he made up his mind not to give it up. Charlie was learning many needed lessons in bitterness of spirit out in these African wilds. Sorrow had come to him here in the loss of his sister, and the disappearance of his friend. As Reuel had done in the night weeks before, so he did now, rising and dressing and securing his weapons, but taking the precaution to awaken Jim, and ask him to accompany him for a last visit to the Pyramid.
Jim Titus seemed strangely subdued and quiet since Reuel’s disappearance. Charlie decided that their suspicions were wrong, and that
Jim was a good fellow, after all.
As they trudged along over the sandy paths in the light of the great African moon, Charlie was glad of Jim’s lively conversation. Anecdotes of Southern life flowed glibly from his tongue, illustrated by songs descriptive of life there. It really seemed to Vance that a portion of the United States had been transported to Africa.
They entered the great Pyramid, as Reuel had done before them, lit their torches, and began slowly and carefully to go over the work of excavation already done.
They passed down a side passage opening out of the outer passage, down a number of steps and along an underground shaft made by the workmen. Suddenly the passage ended. They halted, held up the lamps and saw such a scene as they were not likely to see again. They stood on the edge of an enormous pit, hedged in by a wall of rock. There was an opening in the wall, made by a hinged block of stone. This solid door had opened noiselessly, dark figures had stolen forth, and had surrounded the two men. As they discovered their strange companions, weapons of burnished steel flashed and seemed to fill the vault. Not a sound was heard but the deep breathing of men in grim determination and on serious business bent. Instantly the two travellers were bound and gagged.
Instantly, after the seizure, the eyes of the prisoners were blindfolded; then they were half led, half dragged along by their captors. As he felt the grip of steel which impelled a forward movement, Charlie bitterly cursed his own folly in undertaking so mad a venture. “Poor Reuel,” he lamented, “was this the explanation of his disappearance?” Reuel had been the life of the party; next to Professor Stone, he was looked up to as leader and guide, and with his loss, all interest seemed to have dropped from the members of the expedition.
For half an hour they were hurried along what must have been deep underground passages. Charlie could feel the path drop beneath his feet on solid rock which seemed to curve over like the edges of a waterfall. He stumbled, and would have fallen if strong arms had not upheld him. He could feel the rock worn into deep gutters smoother than ice. For the first time he heard the sound of his captors’ voices. One in command gave an order in an unknown tongue. Charlie wished then that he had spent more time in study and less in sport.
“Oh,” he groaned in spirit, “what a predicament for a free-born American citizen, and one who has had on the gloves with many a famous ring champion!” He wondered how Jim was faring, for since the first frightened yell from his lips, all had been silence.
There came another brief command in the unknown tongue, and the party halted. Then Charlie felt himself lifted into what he finally determined was a litter. He settled himself comfortably, and the bearers started. Charlie was of a philosophical nature; if he had been born poor and forced to work for a living, he might have become a learned philosopher. So he lay and reflected, and wondered where this experience would end, until, lulled by the yielding motion and the gentle swaying, he fell asleep.
He must have slept many hours, for when he awoke he felt a strong sensation of hunger. They were still journeying at a leisurely pace. Charlie could feel the sweet, fresh air in his face, could hear the song of birds, and smell the scented air, heavy with the fragrance of flowers and fruits. Mentally thanking God that he still lived, he anxiously awaited the end of this strange journey. Presently he felt that they entered a building, for the current of air ceased, and the soft footsteps of the bearers gave forth a metallic sound. There came another command in the unknown tongue, and the bearers stopped; he was told to descend, in unmistakable English, by a familiar voice. He obeyed the voice, and instantly he was relieved of his bandage; before his sight became accustomed to the semi-darkness of the room, he heard the retreating steps of a number of men. As his sight returned in full, he saw before him Ai and Abdallah and Jim.
Abdallah regarded him with a gaze that was stolid and unrecognizing. The room in which he stood was large and circular. Floors and walls were of the whitest marble, and from the roof light and air were supplied. There were two couches in the room, and a divan ran about one of its sides. There was no door or entrance visible—nothing but the unvarying white walls and flooring.
“Stranger,” said Ai, in his mellow voice, speaking English in fluent tones, “Why hast thou dared to uncover the mysteries of centuries? Art thou weary of life that thou hast dared to trifle with Nature’s secrets? Scarce an alien foot has traversed this land since six thousand years have passed. Art thou weary of living?” As he asked the last question, Charlie felt a chill of apprehension. This man, with his strange garb, his dark complexion, his deep eyes and mystic smile, was to be feared and reverenced. Summoning up all his sang froid and determination not to give in to his fears, he replied,—
“We came to find old things, that we may impart our knowledge to the people of our land, who are eager to know the beginning of all things. I come of a race bold and venturesome, who know not fear if we can get a few more dollars and fresh information.”
“I have heard of your people,” replied Ai, with a mysterious sparkle in his eyes. “They are the people who count it a disgrace to bear my color; is it not so?”
“Great Scott!” thought Charlie, turning mental somersaults to find an answer that would placate the dignitary before him. “Is it possible that the ubiquitous race question has got ahead of the expedition! By mighty, it’s time something was done to stop this business. Talk of Banquo’s ghost! Banquo ain’t in it if this is the race question I’m up against.” Aloud he said, “My venerable and esteemed friend, you could get there all right with your complexion in my country. We would simply label you ‘Arab, Turk, Malay or Filipino,’ and in that costume you’d slide along all right; not the slightest trouble when you showed your ticket at the door. Savee?” He finished with a profound bow.
Ai eyed him sadly for a moment, and then said,—
“O, flippant-tongued offspring of an ungenerous people, how is it with my brother?” and he took Jim’s unresisting hand and led him up to Charlie. “Crisp of hair,” and he passed his hand softly over Jim’s curly pate. “Black of skin! How do you treat such as this one in your country?”
Charlie felt embarrassed in spite of his assurance. “Well, of course, it has been the custom to count Africans as our servants, and they have fared as servants.”
“And yet, ye are all of one blood; descended from one common father. Is there ever a flock or herd without its black member? What more beautiful than the satin gloss of the raven’s wing, the soft glitter of eyes of blackest tint or the rich black fur of your own native animals? Fair-haired worshippers of Mammon, do you not know that you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting? that your course is done? that Ethiopia’s bondage is about over, her travail passed?”
Charlie smiled in inward mirth at what he called the “fossilized piece of antiquity.” “Touched in the forehead; crank,” was his mental comment. “I’d better put on the brakes, and not aggravate this lunatic. He’s probably some kind of a king, and might make it hot for me.” Aloud he said, “Pardon, Mr. King, but what has this to do with making me a prisoner? Why have I been brought here?”
“You will know soon enough,” replied Ai, as he clapped his hands. Abdallah moved to the side of the room, and instantly a marble block slid from its position, through which Ai and he departed, leaving the prisoners alone.
For a while the two men sat and looked at each other in helpless silence. Then Jim broke the silence with lamentations.
“Oh, Lord! Mr. Vance, there’s a hoodoo on this business, and I’m the hoodoo!”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Vance. “Be a man, Jim, and help me find a way out of this infernal business.”
But Jim sat on the divan, lamenting and refusing to be comforted. Presently food was brought to them, and then after many and useless conjectures, they lay down and tried to sleep.
The night passed very comfortably on the whole, although the profound silence was suggestive of being buried alive.
Another day and night passed without incident. Food was supplied them at regular intervals. Charlie’s thoughts were varied. He—fastidious and refined—who had known no hardship and no sorrow,—why had he left his country to wander among untutored savages?
None were there to comfort him of all his friends. These walls would open but to admit the savage executioner. He ground his teeth. He thought of Cora Scott; doubtless she thought him dead. Dead! No; nor would he die. He’d find a way out of this or perish; he’d go home and marry Cora. Now this was a most surprising conclusion, for Charlie had been heard to say many times that “he’d be drawn and quartered before he’d tie up to a girl of the period,” which Cora undoubtedly was. As if aroused from a dream, he jumped up and going over to Jim, shook him. The Negro turned uneasily in his sleep and groaned. Again he shook him.
“Get up, Jim. Come, I’m going to try to get out of this.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Vance; it’s no use.”
“Come on, Jim; be a man.”
“I’m ready for anything, only show me the way,” replied Jim in desperation. Their pistols had been taken from them, but their knives remained. They stored what food remained about their persons and began a thorough examination of the room.
“They certainly find an exit here somewhere, Jim, and we must find it too.”
“Easier said than done, I fear, sir.”
An hour—two hours, passed in fruitless search; the marble walls showed not a sign of exit or entrance. They rested then, sitting on the sides of the divans and gazing at each other in utter helplessness. The full moonlight showered the apartment with a soft radiance from the domed roof. Suddenly, Jim sprang forward and inserted his knife in a crevice in the floor. Instantly Charlie was beside him, working like mad on the other side. The slab began to waver to and fro, as though shaken by a strong force—the crack widened—they saw a round, flat metal button—Jim seized it with one hand and pried with the knife in the other—a strong breeze of subterranean air struck through the narrow opening—and with a dull reverberation half the flooring slid back, revealing what seemed to be a vast hole.
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