XXV. DOWN AMONG THE GHOSTS
"I cannot endure it," she cried to herself a dozen times beforemorning. "I shall go mad if I have to see his face and hear hisvoice and feel that he is looking at me. There must be a way toescape from this place, there must be a way. I will risk anything toget away from him!"
At breakfast she did not see him; he had eaten earlier with LordBob. The others noted the hunted look in her eye and saw that shehad passed a sleepless night. The most stupendous of Dickey'sefforts to enliven the dreary table failed, and there was uttercollapse to the rosy hopes they had begun to build. Her brain wasfilled by one great thought--escape. While they were jesting she waswondering how and where she could find the underground passages ofwhich they had spoken and to what point they would lead.
"I'd give a round sum if I could grow a set of whiskers as readilyand as liberally as Turk," commented Dickey, sadly. "He came out ofPhil's room this morning, and I dodged behind a door post, thinkinghe was a burglar. Turk looks like a wild man from Borneo, and hiswhiskers are not ten days out. He's letting 'em grow so that he canventure outside the castle without fear of recognition. I'd like toget outside these walls for half a day."
"I detest whiskers," decided Lady Jane.
"So do I, especially Turk's. But they're vastly convenient, just thesame. In a couple of days Turk won't know himself when he looks inthe mirror. I believe I'll try to cultivate a bunch."
"I'm sure they would improve you very much," said Lady Jane,aggressively. "What is your idea as to color?"
"Well, I rather fancy a nice amber. I can get one color as easily asanother. Have you a preference?"
"I think pink or blue would become you, Dickey. But don't let myprejudices influence you. Of course, it can't make any difference,because I won't recognize you, you know."
"In other words, if I don't cut my whiskers you'll cut me?"
"Dead."
"Lots of nice men have whiskers."
"And so do the goats."
"But a brigand always has a full set--in the opera, at least."
"You are only a brigand's apprentice, and, besides, this isn't anopera. It is a society tragedy."
"Won't you have another egg?" he asked, looking politely at herplate. Then he inquired if Miss Garrison would like to join him in aclimb among the rocks. She smiled wistfully and said she would becharmed to do so if she were not too feeble with age when the timecame to start.
Consumed with a desire to acquaint herself with her surroundings,she begged her companions to take her over the castle from turret tocellar. Later in the day, with Turk carrying the lantern, she waseagerly taking notes in the vast, spooky caves of Craneycrow.
Vaulted chambers here, narrow passages there, spider-ridden ceilingsthat awoke to life as the stooping visitors rustled beneath them,slimy walls and ringing floors, all went to make up the vast gravein which she was to bury all hope of escape. Immense were theiron-bound doors that led from one room to another; huge the boltsand rusty the hinges; gruesome and icy the atmosphere; narrow thesteps that led to regions deeper in the bowels of the earth.Dorothy's heart sank like lead as she surveyed the impregnable wallsand listened to the mighty groans of long-sleeping doors as theshoulder of the sturdy Turk awoke them to torpid activity. There wassurprise and resentment in the creak of grim old hinges, in themoans of rheumatic timbers, in the jangle of lazy chains and locks.The stones on which they trod seemed to snap back in the echo oftheir footfalls a harsh, strident laugh of derision. Every shadowgrinned mockingly at her; the very darkness ahead of the lantern'sway seemed to snort angrily at the approach of the intruders. Thewhole of that rockbound dungeon roared defiance in answer to hertimid prayer, and snarled an ugly challenge to her courage.
Lady Saxondale and Dickey confronted two rather pale-faced girlswhen the party of explorers again stood in the sunlit halls above.Across their shrinking faces cobwebs were lashed, plastered with thedank moisture of ages; in their eyes gleamed relief and from theirlips came long breaths of thankfulness. Turk, out of sight andhearing, was roundly cursing the luck that had given him such adisagreeable task as the one just ended. From the broad, warmwindows in the south drawing-room, once the great banquet hall, thequartet of uncomfortable sight-seekers looked out upon the opencourtyard that stretched down to the fort-like wall, and for themoment Dorothy envied Philip Quentin. He was briskly pacing thestone-paved inclosure, smoking his pipe and basking in the sunshinethat had never penetrated to the horrors of Castle Craneycrow. LordBob was serenely lounging on a broad oaken bench, his back to thesun, reading from some musty-backed book.
"Oh, won't you let me go out in the sun for just a little while?"she cried, imploringly. A mist came over Lady Saxondale's eyes andDickey turned away abruptly.
"As often as you like, Dorothy. The courtyard is yours as much as itis ours. Jane, will you take her through our fort? Show her thewalls, the parapets, the bastions, and where the moat and drawbridgewere when the place was young. It is very interesting, Dorothy."
With Dickey and Lady Jane, Dorothy passed into the courtyard andinto the open air for the first time in nearly a week. She felt likea bird with clipped wings. The most casual inspection convinced herthat there was no possible chance of escape from the walledquadrangle, in the center of which loomed the immense,weather-painted castle. The wall was high and its strength was asunbroken as in its earliest days. Lord Saxondale joined them andexplained to her all the points of interest about the castle asviewed from the outside, but Quentin quietly abandoned his walk anddisappeared.
"It is as difficult to get out of Castle Craney-crow as it is to getin, I dare say," observed Dorothy, looking with awe upon the grimold pile of rocks, they called a castle. Far above their heads stoodthe tower, from which she had seen earth and sky as if in apanorama, three days before.
"One might be able to get out if he could fly. It seems the onlyway, provided, of course, there were opposition to his departure,"said Lord Bob, smiling.
"Alas, I cannot fly," she said, directly.
At the rear of the castle, where the stonework had been battereddown by time, man and the elements, she saw several servants atwork. "You have trustworthy servants, Lord Saxondale. I have triedto bribe one of them."
"You see, Miss Garrison, they love Lady Frances. That is the secretof their loyalty. The chances are they'd sell me out to-morrow, butthey'd die before they'd cut loose from my wife. By Jove, I don'tunderstand how it is that everybody is won over by you Americanwomen."
During the trip through the cellars, Dorothy had learned that thesecret passages to the outside world began in the big chamber underthe tower. Lady Saxondale had unwittingly confessed, while they werein the room, that two of the big rocks in the wall were false andthat they were in reality doors which opened into the passages. Oneof the passages was over a mile long, and there were hundreds ofsteps to descend before one reached a level where walking was notlaborious. The point of egress was through a hidden cave up thevalley, near the ruins of an old church. Where the other passage hadonce led to she did not know, for it had been closed by the cavingin of a great pile of rocks.
With a determined spirit and a quaking courage, Dorothy vowed thatshe would sooner or later find this passage-way and make a bold dashfor liberty. Her nerves were tingling with excitement, eagerness anda horror of the undertaking, and she could scarcely control herselfuntil the opportunity might come for a surreptitious visit to theunderground regions. Her first thought was to locate, if possible,the secret door leading into the passage. With that knowledge in herpossession she could begin the flight at once, or await a favorablehour on some later day.
That very afternoon brought the opportunity for which she waswaiting. The other women retired for their naps, and the men went tothe billiard room. The lower halls were deserted, and she had littledifficulty in making her way unseen to the door that led to thebasement. Here she paused irresolutely, the recollection of thedismal, grasping solitude that dwelt beyond the portal sending againthe chill to her
bones.
She remembered that Turk had hung the lantern on a peg just insidethe door, and she had provided herself with matches. To turn thekey, open the door, pass through and close it, required no vastamount of courage, for it would be but an instant until she couldhave a light. Almost before she knew what she had done, she was inthe drafty, damp stairway, and the heavy door was between her andher unsuspecting captors. With trembling, agitated fingers shestruck a match. It flickered and went out. Another and another metthe same fate, and she began to despair. The darkness seemed tochoke her, a sudden panic rushed up and overwhelmed her faintingcourage, and with a smothered cry of terror she turned to throw openthe door. But the door refused to open! A modern spring lock had setitself against her return to the coveted security of the hallsabove.
A deathly faintness came over her. She sobbed as she threw herselfagainst the stubborn door and pounded upon its panels with herhands. Something dreadful seemed to be crawling up from behind, outof the cavernous hole that was always night. The paroxysms of fearand dread finally gave way to despair, and despair is ever theparent of pluck. Impatiently she again undertook the task oflighting the lantern, fearing to breathe lest she destroy thewavering, treacherous flame that burnt inside her bleeding hands.Her pretty knuckles were bruised and cut in the reckless pounding onthe door.
At last the candle inside the lantern's glass began to flickerfeebly, and then came the certainty that perseverance had beenrewarded. Light filled the narrow way, and she looked timidly downthe rickety stone steps, dreading to venture into the blacknessbeyond. Ahead lay the possibility of escape, behind lay failure andthe certainty that no other opportunity would be afforded her. Soshe bravely went down the steps, her knees weakly striking againsteach other, the lantern jangling noisily against the stone wall.
How she managed to reach the chamber under the tower she could nothave told afterward; she did not know at the time. At last, however,she stood, with blood chilled to the curdling point, in the centerof the room that knew the way to the outside world. Pounding on therocky walls with a piece of stone against which her foot had struck,she at length found a block that gave forth the hollow sound shelonged to hear. Here, then, was the key to the passage, and it onlyremained for her to discover the means by which the osbtructioncould be moved from the opening.
For half an hour, cold with fear and nervousness, she sought for thetraditional spring, but her efforts were in vain. There wasabsolutely no solution, and it dawned upon her that she was doomedto return to the upper world defeated. Indeed, unless she could makethose in the castle hear her cries, it was possible that she mightactually die of starvation in the pitiless cavern. The lanterndropped from her palsied fingers, and she half sank against thestubborn door in the wall. To be back once more in the rooms above,with cheery human beings instead of with the spirits of she knew nothow many murdered men and women, was now her only desire, her onlypetition.
The contact of her body with the slab in some way brought about theresult for which she had striven. The door moved slowly downward anda dash of freezing air came from the widening aperture at the top,blowing damp across her face. Staggering away from the ghostlikehole that seemed to grin fiendishly until it spread itself into along, black gulf with eyes, a voice, and clammy hands, she grabbedup the still lighted lantern and cried aloud in a frenzy of fear.The door slowly sank out of sight and the way was open but hercourage was gone. What was beyond that black hole? Could she live inthe foul air that poured forth from that dismal mouth? Tremblinglike a leaf, she lifted the lantern and peered into the aperture,standing quite close to the edge.
Her eyes fastened themselves in mute horror upon the object thatfirst met their gaze; she could not breathe, her heart ceasedbeating, and every vestige of life seemed to pass beyond recall. Shewas looking upon the skeleton of a human being, crouched, hunchedagainst the wall of the narrow passage, a headless skeleton, for theskull rolled out against her feet as the sliding door sank below thelevel. Slowly she backed away from the door, not knowing what shedid, conscious only that her eyes could not be drawn from thehorrifying spectacle.
"Oh, God!" she moaned, in direst terror. Her ghastly companionseemed to edge himself toward her, an illusion born in the changingposition of the light as she retreated.
"Dorothy," came a voice behind her, and she screamed aloud interror, dropping the lantern and covering her face with her hands.As she swayed limply, a pair of arms closed about her and a voiceshe knew so well called her name again and again. She did not swoon,but it was an interminably long time to him before she exhibited thefaintest sign of life other than the convulsive shudders that sweptthrough her body. At last her hands clasped his arm fiercely and herbody stiffened.
"Is it you, Phil? Oh, is it really you? Take me away from thisplace! Anywhere, anywhere! I'll do anything you say, but don't letthat awful thing come near me!" she wailed. By the flickering lighthe caught the terrified expression in her eyes.
"You are safe, dear. I'll carry you upstairs, if you like," he said,softly.
"I can walk, or run. Oh, why did I come here? But, Phil," suddenly,"we are locked in this place. We can't get out!"
"Oh, yes, we can," he cried, quickly. "Come with me." He picked upthe lantern, threw an arm about her and hurried toward the stairsthat led aloft. Afterwards he was not ashamed to admit that heimagined he felt bony hands clutching at him from behind, and fearlent speed to his legs. Up the stairs they crowded, and he clutchedat the huge handle on the door. In surprise, he threw his weightagainst the timbers, and a moment later dropped back with anexclamation of dismay. The door was locked!
"What does it mean!" he gasped. "I left it standing open when I camedown. The draft must have shut it. Don't be alarmed, Dorothy; I'llkick the damned thing down. What an idiot I was to tell no one thatI was coming down here." But his kicking did not budge the door, andthe noise did not bring relief. She held the lantern while he foughtwith the barricade, and she was strangely calm and brave. The queerturn of affairs was gradually making itself felt, and her brain wasclearing quickly. She was not afraid, now that he was there, but anew sensation was rushing into her heart. It was the sensation ofshame and humiliation. That he, of all men, should find her in thatunhappy, inglorious plight, ending her bold dash for freedom withthe most womanly of failures, was far from comforting, to say theleast.
"Dorothy, I can't move it. I've kicked my toes off, and my knees arebleeding, but there it stands like a rock. We've got to stay heretill some one chances to hear us," he said, ruefully. "Are youafraid now?"
"Why didn't you spring the lock when you came down? This is a prettypass, I must say," she said, her voice still shaky, her logicabnormal.
"I like that! Were you any better off before I came than you arenow? How were you going to get out, may I ask?" he demanded, coollyseating himself on the top step. She stood leaning against thewooden door, the diplomatic lantern between them.
"I was going out by another way," she said, shortly, but a shuddergave the lie to the declaration.
"Do you know where that hidden passage leads to?" he asked, lookingup into her face. She was brushing cobwebs from her dress.
"To a cave near the old church," she replied, triumphantly.
"Blissful ignorance!" he laughed. "It doesn't lead anywhere as itnow exists. You see, there was a cave-in a few decades ago--"
"Is that the one that caved in?" she cried, in dismay.
"So Saxondale tells me."
"And--and how did the--the--how did that awful thing get in there?"she asked, a new awe coming over her.
"Well, that's hard to tell. Bob says the door has never been opened,to his knowledge. Nobody knows the secret combination, or whateveryou call it. The chances are that the poor fellow whose bones we sawgot locked in there and couldn't get out. So he died. That's whatmight have happened to you, you know."
"Oh, you brute! How can you suggest such a thing?" she cried, andshe longed to sit close beside him, even though he was her mostdetested enemy.
br /> "Oh, I would have saved you from that fate, never fear."
"But you could not have known that I was inside the passage."
"Do you suppose I came down here on a pleasure trip?"
"You--you don't mean that you knew I was here?"
"Certainly; it is why I came to this blessed spot. It is my duty tosee that no harm comes to you, Dorothy."
"I prefer to be called Miss Garrison," coldly.
"If you had been merely Miss Garrison to me, you'd be off on abridal tour with Ravorelli at this moment, instead of enjoying arather unusual tete-a-tete with me. Seriously, Dorothy, you will bewise if you submit to the inevitable until fate brings a change ofits own accord. You are brave and determined, I know, and I love youmore than ever for this daring attempt to get out of Craneycrow, butyou don't know what it might have brought you to. Good heavens, noone knows what dangers lie in those awful passages. They have notbeen used in a hundred years. Think of what you were risking. Don't,for your own sake, try anything so uncertain again. I knew you weredown here, but no one else knows. How you opened that secret door, Ido not know, but we both know what happened to one other poor wretchwho solved the mystery."
"I didn't solve it, really I didn't. I don't know how it happened.It just opened, that's all, and then I--oh, it was terrible!" Shecovered her eyes with her hands and he leaped to his feet.
"Don't think about it, Dorothy. It was enough to frighten you todeath. Gad, I should have gone mad had I been in your place." He puthis arm about her shoulder, and for a moment she offered noresistance. Then she remembered who and what he was and imperiouslylifted angry eyes to his.
"The skeleton may have been a gentleman in his day, Mr. Quentin.Even now, as I think of him in horror, he could not be as detestableas you. Open this door, sir!" she said, her voice quivering withindignation.
"I wish I could--Dorothy, you don't believe that I have the power toopen this door and am blackguard enough to keep you here? My God,what do you think I am?" he cried, drawing away from her.
"Open this door!" she commanded, resolutely. He looked long andearnestly into her unflinching eyes, and his heart chilled as if icehad clogged the blood.
"I cannot open it," he said at last. With not another word he satdown again at her feet, and, for what seemed like an age, neitherspoke. The lantern sputtered warningly, but they did not know thelight of its life was ebbing away. They breathed and thought, andthat was all. At length the chill air began to tell, and he plainlyheard the chatter of her teeth, the rustling of her dress as herbody shivered. He arose, stiff and cold, drew off his coat and threwit about her shoulders. She resisted at first, but he was master.Later his waistcoat was wrapped about her throat and the warmlantern was placed at her feet, but she never gave him one look ofgratitude.
At intervals he pounded on the door until finally there came thejoyous, rasping sound of a key in the lock, and then excitedexclamations filled the ears of the two prisoners.