CHAPTER XXIV: THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF
Dazed, helpless, yet continuing to struggle futilely, Stella realisedlittle except giving a glance at the hated faces of her captors. Sheheard Cateras's voice ordering the men forward, vibrant with Spanishoaths, and trembling yet with the fury which possessed him--but allelse was a dim haze, out of which few remembrances ever came. Theywere in a large room, opening into another behind, a heavy doorbetween. She was dragged forward, and thrust through this with noknowledge of what it was like. She could not think; she was onlyconscious of a deadly, paralysing horror. Cateras slammed theintervening door, and strode past.
What occurred was not clear to her mind; but suddenly what appeared tobe an open fireplace seemed to swing aside, leaving revealed a greatblack opening in the rock. To the lieutenant's snarl of command, oneof the men released his grip of her arm, and lit a lantern which hetook from a near-by shelf. The dim flicker of light penetrated a fewfeet into the dark hole, only serving to render the opening more grimand sinister. The girl shrank back, but the fellow still holding hertightened his grip. Cateras seemed to have regained his good humour,although the red welt across his face stood forth ugly in the flare.His thin lips smiled, and he bowed hat in hand, hatefully polite.
"Go ahead with the light, Silva; not too fast, my man; the room beyondthe _senor's_. Now, Merodez, release the girl."
"Ah, so you can stand alone, _senorita_; that is well. Step in here,ahead of me, and follow the lantern--there is nothing to fear."
She hesitated, and the smile on the Mexican's lips changed into a cruelgrin.
"Shall I make you again?"
"No, _senor_."
"Then you will do as I bid."
"Yes, _senor_; I cannot resist."
The passage was clean and dry, and seemed to lead directly back intothe cliff. The faint light revealed the side walls and low roof, andthe girl, again partially mistress of herself, recognised the nature ofthe rock to be limestone. Occasionally the floor exhibited evidencesthat human hands had been employed in levelling it, and there weremarks along the side-walls to show where the passage had been widened;but the opening itself was originally a cave, through which water hadrun in long past ages--a cave wide enough to allow six men to walkabreast, but with an average height of about seven feet. For twentyfeet it ran almost straight in; then they came to a sharp turn to theright, and entered a much narrower passage. The air was so pure andfresh, even after this turn was made, as to lead her to believe theremust somewhere be another opening. The vague thought brought with it athrob of hope.
Her view was limited to the slight radius illumined by the lantern, andeven within that small area, her own shadow, and those of the threemen, helped render everything indistinct. The side walls appeared tobe of solid rock; she perceived no evidence of entrances into any sidechamber, only that her eyes twice caught glimpses of what seemed likenarrow slits at about the level of her head. She could not be certainas to their purpose, or ascertain exactly what they were, only theybore resemblance to an opening cleft in the rock, either forventilation, or to permit of observation from without of some interiorcell. Near each of these was a strangely shaped bracket of woodfastened in some manner to the side wall, apparently intended for thesupport of a light, as the ceiling above exhibited marks of smoke.
They had turned the sharp corner, and advanced a few feet beyond whenthe man with the lantern stopped suddenly, and held it up to permit thelight to stream full on the exposed wall to the right. Another ofthese odd slits in the rock was visible here, and the girl was able toperceive more clearly its nature--beyond question it was an artificialopening, leading into a space on the farther side of the wall. Cateraspushed past her, his body interfering with her view, and bent down,fumbling along the rock surface.
"Hold the light closer," he demanded. "Aye, that's it. 'Tis sometrick to find the thing---- Ah! now I have it."
It seemed like a bit of wood, so resembling the colour of the rock asto be practically imperceptible to the eye in that dim light--a bit ofwood which slid back to reveal a heavy iron bolt, shot firmly into thestone. This the Mexican forced back, and an opening yawned in the sidewall, the rays of the lantern revealing the interior of a black cave.Cateras stepped within.
"Bring the woman," he commanded shortly, "and you, Merodez, see firstto the light."
Silva thrust her forward, his grip no light one, while the other strucka match and applied it to the wick of a lamp occupying a bracket besidethe doorway. As this caught the full interior was revealed beneath thesickly glow, a cell-like place, although of a fair size, unfurnishedexcept for a rude bench, and one three-legged stool, the floor ofstone, and the sides and roof apparently of the same solid structure.It was gloomy, bare, horrible in its dreariness--a veritable grave.The girl covered her face with her hands, appalled at the sight,unnerved at the thought of being left alone in such a place. Caterassaw the movement, and laughed, gazing about carelessly.
"Some boudoir, _senorita_," he said meaningly. "Well, we will see whatcan be done for you later. Perhaps a few hours in such a hole may worka miracle. When I come again you will be glad to see even me. That'sall, lads; there's plenty of oil, and you can bring along some blanketswith the evening meal."
He stopped, standing alone in the narrow opening, the light of thelantern without bringing his face into bold relief. The girl had sunkhelplessly onto the bench, her head bowed within her hands. TheMexican eyed her frowningly.
"Quite tamed already," he said sarcastically. "Bah! I have done it toworse than you. Look up at me."
She lifted her eyes slowly, her lips pressed tightly together. She wasconscious of depression, of fear, yet as her glance encountered his, asudden spirit of defiance caused her to stand erect.
"There are some women with whom you are not acquainted, Senor Cateras,"she said quietly, desperation rendering her voice firm. "And possiblyI may prove one of them. I am your prisoner it seems, yet I advise younot to go too far, or I may prove to be a dangerous one. In the firstplace it might be well for you to remember that, helpless as I seem atpresent, I have friends--whatever befalls me will be known."
"How known?" his white teeth gleamed. "Do you think what goes on hereis published to the world? If I should tell you the history of thissecret valley it would take some of the defiance out of you, I imagine."
"Then you reckon wrong, I am not afraid of you, and I believe in myfriends. All I ask now is that I be left alone."
"Which will bring you to your senses. I have seen that tried out here,and know how it works. All right, I'll leave you to think it over;then I'll come back for an answer. Until then, _senorita, adios_."
The fellow lifted his hat, and stepped back into the passage, hismanner insolent. She remained motionless, contempt in her eyes, but intruth hopeless and crushed. Silva closed the door silently, althoughher ears caught the click of the bolt when it was shot home.
No sound of their retreating footsteps reached her through the thickwall. The stillness of her prison seemed to strike her like a blow.For a moment she stood staring at the bare wall, her lips parted, herlimbs trembling from the reaction of excitement; then she steppedforward, and felt along the smooth surface of rock.
The door fitted so closely she could not even determine its exactoutlines. Baffled, her glance wandered about the cell, seeking vainlyfor any sign of weakness, and then, giving way utterly to her despair,the girl flung herself on the bench, covering her eyes to shut outthose hideous surroundings. What should she do? What could she do?What possibility of hope lay in her own endeavours? From what sourcecould she expect any outside help?
After those first moments of complete despair, there came greatercalmness, in which her mind began to grapple with the situation. Lifehad never been an easy problem, and discouragement was no part of hercreed. She sat up once more, her lips pressed tightly together, hereyes dry of tears.
In spite of Cateras's cowardly threats these outlaws would nev
er dareto take her life. There was no occasion for them to resort to sodesperate a deed. Besides this Mexican was only an under officer ofthe band, and would never venture to oppose the will of his chief. Herfate rested not on his word, but upon the decision of Pasqual Mendez,and, if that bandit was associated with Bill Lacy, as undoubtedly hewas, then as the prisoner of the American, she was certainly safe untilthe latter expressed his own wish regarding her.
And why should Lacy desire to take her life? Most assuredly he didnot, or the act would have been already accomplished. The very fact ofher having been transported such a distance was sufficient evidence ofhis purpose. The conspirators merely suspected her mission in Haskell;they were afraid she knew more of their plans than she really did. Thetelegram, stolen by Miss La Rue, had convinced the leaders that shemight prove dangerous if left at large, and they had determined to holdher helpless until their scheme had been worked out and they weresafely beyond pursuit. That was undoubtedly the one object of hercapture. Lacy had no knowledge that Mendez's band was at therendezvous; he supposed them to be on a cattle raid to the south, withonly a man or two of his own left as guard over Cavendish.
Cavendish! Her mind grasped clearly now the fact that the man was notdead. It had not been his body found in the Waldron Apartments, butthat of some other man substituted for purposes of crime. Cavendishhimself had been lured westward, waylaid in some manner and madeprisoner, as she and Westcott had suspected.
Through the co-operation of Lacy he had been brought to this desertden, where he could be held indefinitely, with no chance ofdiscovery--killed if necessary. She had heard of such places as this,read of them, yet never before had she realised the possibility oftheir real existence. It all seemed more like a delirium of fever thanan actual fact. She rubbed her eyes, gazing about on the rock walls,scarcely sure she was actually awake. Why, one might ride across thatdesert, and pass by within a hundred yards of its rim, and never evenbe aware of the existence of this sunken valley. Perhaps not a dozenmen outside this gang of outlaws had ever gazed down into its greendepths, and possibly no others knew of that narrow, winding trailleading down to its level. Yet these men must have made use of it foryears, as a place to hide stolen cattle, and into which to retreatwhenever pursuit became dangerous.
Those huts without were not newly built, and this underground cavernhad been extended and changed by no small labour. What deeds ofviolence must have happened here; what scenes of unbridled debaucherythis desert rendezvous must have witnessed. She shuddered at thethought, comprehending that these cells had never been chiselledwithout a purpose, and that she was utterly helpless in the hands of aband of thieves and cutthroats, to whom murder meant little enough, ifit only served their ends. Mendez, no doubt, was brute and monster,yet it was Juan Cateras whom she really feared--he was cruel, slimy,seeking to hide his hatefulness behind that hideous smile; and he hadalready chosen her for his victim. Who would save her--Mendez? Lacy?God, she did not know: and somehow neither of these was the name whicharose to her lips, almost in the form of prayer; the name she whisperedwith a faint throb of hope in its utterance--Jim Westcott.
The big miner was all she had to rely upon; he had been in her mind allthrough the long ride; he arose before her again now, and she welcomedthe memory with a conscious throb of expectation. Those people backthere could not conceal for long her absence from him; if he lived hewould surely seek her again.
Her womanly instinct had read the message in the man's eyes; she was ofinterest to him, he cared; it was no mere ordinary friendliness whichwould bring him back; no! not even their mutual connection with thecase of Frederick Cavendish. Her eyes brightened, and a flush ofcolour crept into her cheeks. She believed in him, in his courage--hehad appealed to her as a man.
Suddenly she seemed to realise the yearning of her own heart, her utterfaith in him. He would come, he must come; even now he might havediscovered her sudden disappearance, and suspected the cause. He wouldnever believe any lies they might tell--that she had departed without aword, without a message--he would find out the truth somehow; he wasnot the kind to lie down, to avoid danger when it confronted duty--and,besides, he cared. She knew this, comprehended without question; therehad been no word spoken, yet she knew.
Once she had accepted this knowledge with a smile, but now it thrilledher with hope, and set her heart throbbing strangely. Not that shedreamed love in return, or permitted it to even enter her mind; yet thevery thought that this man would, if necessary, wade into the verywaters of death for her sake, was somehow sweet and consoling. She wasno longer alone; no longer hopeless and unnerved--deep down in herconsciousness she trusted him.
"If"--how often that recurred; how it brought back memory of Lacy, ofEnright, of Beaton, of the La Rue woman. What else could they haveremained behind for, except to hide and close the trail? It wasWestcott they would guard against; he was the only one they now had anycause to fear. They suspected his connection with her, his knowledgeof their purpose; they knew of his presence the night before at theshaft-house of Lacy's mine; they would "get" him, if they could, and byno such simple methods as they got her. If she could only have warnedhim; if he was only placed on guard before they were ready toact--"if"----
Suddenly the girl's slender body grew taut, and her thin white,delicate hands clutched the granite wall back of her, and into her greyeyes crept the light of terror, a terror that was new and strange toher, a nameless clutching fear that her varied experiences in the cityhad never brought her, an insidious, terrible fright for her bodilysafety. Her delicate ears, strained under their spun-brown covering ofhair--there was no doubt of it; she heard footsteps in the passageway.Juan Cateras with his leering, lustful smile was coming back.
The Strange Case of Cavendish Page 24