The Gilded Man: A Romance of the Andes

  XI

  IN WHICH ANDREW IS FOUND

  Puzzled at not finding Sajipona, uncertain how to take up the promisehe had given in regard to her, an altogether unexpected turn of eventsawaited Raoul at Leighton's hotel the next morning. Andrew Parmeleehad been found. In the custody of two delighted police officers themissing schoolmaster, bewildered, quite speechless from his nocturnalexperience, had made his appearance, scarcely an hour before Raoul'sarrival. When, thanks to Miranda's persistent prodding, backed by thecalm questioning of Leighton and Una's sympathetic ministrations, hefound his tongue, the account Andrew gave of his adventure was so wildlyimprobable that his friends were inclined to believe he had been thevictim of some temporary mental delusion. But this did not answer thethreefold question: what had brought on his delusion, how had he escapedthe vigilant Miranda, and how had he fallen into the hands of thepolice.

  The two officers gave a simple statement of what, so far as they knew,had happened.

  Late the night before, they said, Andrew had wandered into the alcalde'soffice in a little pueblo a few miles this side of Guatavita. Hisappearance, manner and mental condition--they hinted broadly enoughthat the luckless Andrew, when first found was in a very irresponsiblecondition indeed--called for the protection of the law. But as the poorgentleman, they said, was apparently suffering from nothing more thanthe effects of a too convivial outing in the country, he had been putin jail, not as a punishment, but rather as an act of humanity. Unableto express himself in Spanish, Andrew had evidently been somethingof a puzzle to the simple-minded officials of the pueblo. Out of hisincoherent jumble of words, however, the name of a hotel in Bogota hadbeen seized upon. A telephone message was sent to the municipal police,and the two officers who now had him in charge were detailed to conducthim in safety to his friends. Beyond this, the clearing up of themystery of his temporary disappearance--if mystery it was--rested withAndrew himself. But he, for a time, was unable to satisfy the curiosityof his questioners.

  "I don't understand it myself," he said hopelessly, addressing himself,in the main, to Leighton, whose calm demeanor was less confusing thanthe badgering of the excitable Doctor. "All I know is, that when DoctorMiranda went off to make some explorations on his own account, I felta little nervous at finding myself alone in such a dismal place. Notfrightened, you know, but just nervous."

  "Why you not call to me?" demanded Miranda.

  "There was really no reason to call for help, you see, as nothing hadhappened. So, just to pass the time until Doctor Miranda came back, Iwalked along the edge of the lake, feeling very miserable, I confess,wondering what had become of Mr. Meudon, and wishing that we were allout of this terrible country and back in Rysdale. At first, there wasnothing to alarm me particularly; but the more I thought about thedisappearance of Mr. Meudon the more nervous I became. And then, just asI was wondering if we would ever find him, and feeling more uneasy atthe strange silence of that melancholy lake----"

  "Caramba! You would have the lake to talk?"

  "I--I heard footsteps among the rocks behind me."

  "A sightseer from Bogota, I suppose," suggested Leighton.

  "No, it was not exactly that--at least, I don't think so. But at first Ireally didn't turn around to see. I just kept on looking at the lake andgoing over some of the terrible stories I had heard about it."

  "You see, this leetle fellow was quite mad with the fright," interjectedMiranda. "He dream. He hear, he see nothing. Nobody was there. I know."

  "I think, Sir, you are mistaken," protested the schoolmaster. "I admit Iwas nervous. But I was perfectly sane--and I was not asleep."

  "Of course you were not asleep, Mr. Parmelee," said Una soothingly. "Asfor being nervous--any one would have been nervous."

  "Well?" inquired Leighton impatiently.

  "Well, Sir, as I was saying, I heard footsteps. They approached me. Imade up my mind I had better see who it was. I turned around. And thenI saw, a few yards from me, a stranger. How he came there without myhaving seen him before, I can't imagine. And then, thinking about this,I confess I became quite agitated."

  "But what was he like, what did he say?" demanded Leighton. "It was aman, I suppose?"

  "Oh, yes, I am quite sure he was a man--a very tall man, and singularlydressed."

  "'Singularly dressed?'"

  "I thought so, at least. But then, I am not familiar with the fashionsof this country. You see, it is very cold on the shores of the lake,and I should think that any one going there would want at least to bewarmly clad. But this man had nothing on that I could see, except a longsort of toga, just like the pictures I have studied in Herodotus. It waslooped up on one shoulder through what looked like a golden ring----"

  "He dream! He dream! this leetle fellow!" laughed Miranda. "He is toogood."

  "And this toga fell down to a point just below his knees. It was apurple and white toga--or perhaps I ought to call it a tunic--with afringe of gold tassels. He had sandals on his bare feet and wore notrousers--at least, I could see none."

  "Caramba!"

  "Really, Mr. Parmelee, you describe a very singular sort of person forthis age and climate," said Leighton coldly. "Are you sure that youragitated state of mind--you admit you were agitated--did not create apurely imaginary apparition?"

  "Did I not say he dream?" demanded Miranda triumphantly. "And the policesay he drink. But that is not so--he never drink. I know. I am there."

  "I am very sorry, Sir; I know it sounds ridiculous," protested thedistressed Andrew. "But I am certain that I was not asleep--or anythingelse that these well-meaning gentlemen say. I am only telling you what Ireally saw."

  "Well, tell us the whole story. Setting aside this person's remarkablecostume, what was he like, what did he say?"

  "I don't think he said anything. He was an Indian. That is, he was nota white man. I never saw any one just like him, so I may not be rightabout the race to which he belongs."

  Andrew's confused statement brought protests from Leighton as well asMiranda.

  "In this country," remarked Leighton dogmatically, "a man is either anIndian, a white, or a half-breed. There are no negroes up here, youknow. The negroes all stayed on the coast. As for your inability totell us whether he spoke or not--well, the whole thing begins to soundabsurd."

  But the rebuke failed to bring out anything more clear in the way ofexplanation from Andrew.

  "Pray, Sir, remember," he expostulated, "that at the time of thisstranger's appearance evening was setting in. The growing darknessprevented anything like a reliable estimate that I could have made ofhis features. In the twilight he seemed dark to me, although not so darkas the average Indian. And yet, allowing for the twilight, he certainlywas not a white man."

  "But what happened?" urged Leighton.

  "He appeared surprised at seeing me. And then he smiled, approached towhere I was standing, and waved a sort of salutation to me. I think hemay have muttered some words, either of invitation or friendly greeting.But if he did, it was not in English, nor in Spanish."

  "He, at least, was not agitated, it seems! But as you were afflictedwith more than the usual amount of timidity, I suppose you avoided him."

  "I assure you, Sir, that as soon as I saw this person, I felt no furtherfear. There was nothing threatening in his manner. And it flashedthrough my mind that he could give me some information about Mr. Meudon.I observed that he beckoned me to him--and as he did so I followed."

  "Well?"

  "That was the singular part of it. There was every reason why I shouldnot go with him--at least, not without first notifying Doctor Miranda.But this strange being smiled so pleasantly and seemed so friendly thatmy feeling of nervousness passed away, and I was eager to go with him.This I did. Apparently he retraced his steps, leading me along the shoreof a little inlet to the lake until we reached a high wall of rock thatI had not particularly noticed before. Here he stopped and looked at me,still smiling, as if to make sure that I was following him."

  "Do you think
you could identify this wall of rock if you were to see itagain?" asked Raoul Arthur, speaking for the first time.

  "I am sure I could," said Andrew, "because we stood in front of it forsome time, this strange person in the toga passing his hand over itssurface, while I wondered what he was going to do next. I noticed thatit was a very high and blank wall indeed."

  "Where was it?"

  "Just next to the cutting that Doctor Miranda had told me was made bythe Spaniards to drain the lake."

  "I did not see this wall," expostulated Miranda. "You are in one dream."

  "Never mind," snapped Leighton; "go on with your story."

  "I am afraid you will believe me less than ever," said Andrewdeprecatingly. "But I am only telling what I am certain I saw."

  "Go on."

  "As he passed his hand over the surface of the wall he gradually turnedto one side until we stood before a narrow cleft in the rocks."

  "It is not there," interrupted Miranda contemptuously. "I examine allthis rock. It has no--what you call?--cleft."

  "I am very sorry, Sir, but I know that there is such a cleft. I thinkthat is what you would call it. You might easily have overlooked it,Sir. It was only a narrow opening in the rock, facing away from the lakeand reaching up not more than about three feet from the ground."

  "I remember it," declared Raoul.

  "Pray go on with your story, Mr. Parmelee," Leighton commanded.

  "There is not much more to tell, although the little that remains isquite the most extraordinary part of it. Pausing an instant before thisopening in the rock, my strange guide crouched down until he was able topass within it, beckoned me to follow him, and then disappeared."

  The schoolmaster spoke with difficulty, hesitating every now and thenfor the word that would best express what had happened. Having plungedinto his story, however, he went bravely on, gaining courage as herecalled his singular experiences, and impressing those who heard himwith the sincerity, if not the truth, of the narrative. Of all hisauditors Raoul, apparently, followed him with the closest attention. Hisattitude, indeed, seemed to indicate a belief, on his part, in Andrew'sstatements.

  "I hesitated about following this unknown man into so strange aplace," continued Andrew; "but his manner was so perfectly courteousand friendly--and then I thought that behind all this mystery theremight be something to help us find Mr. Meudon--that I made up my mindto keep with him as long as possible. I crouched down, therefore, asI had seen him do, forced my way through the narrow opening in therock, and presently, after a little difficulty, found myself in a darkpassage that afforded me room to stand upright and move forward. I coulddimly perceive my guide walking at some distance in front of me, and Ihastened as well as I could to reach him. In this I did not succeed, andso we followed the passage, he leading and I after him, for a hundredyards or more, until we came to an abrupt angle in the wall where theuneven path made a sharp dip downward. Here I stopped, having completelylost sight of my guide, and after waiting a short time I called to him.No answer came that I could hear, and in the darkness that surrounded meI began to grow confused and alarmed. It seemed to me I had been luredinto some sort of trap. Repenting of my folly for having ventured so farinto such a dismal hole, I determined to get out of it as quickly aspossible. This, I thought, would be easily done because, to the best ofmy knowledge, I had followed along a straight corridor and, if I turnedback, I would soon come within sight of the opening that led to thelake. But either I had miscalculated the distance I had walked, or else,in turning to go out I started in the wrong direction. At any rate, Ihad not gone very far before I found myself in a labyrinth of passages.I perceived this by feeling along the wall. And so--there I was, withoutany clew to help me in choosing the right passage.

  "I scarcely know what I did when I realized that I was hopelessly lostin this pitch black cavern. For one thing, I shouted for help, thinkingthat possibly Doctor Miranda might hear me. But the echoes from my voicewere more terrifying than the silence. The air was stifling; the groundappeared to move beneath my feet; the darkness was like a heavy veilwinding closer and closer about me. Then, unable, as it seemed to me, tomove or breathe any longer, everything went from me. I sank to the floorunconscious. And that's all I remember."

  "But--how you say that? You are here, leetle fellow," blurted Miranda."You are all right."

  "Yes, I am here," Andrew assented woefully. "But I don't know how I gothere. When I came to myself again I was lying on the shore of the lake.It was quite dark. My horse had gone----"

  "That is right; I take him," corroborated Miranda, with satisfaction.

  "I don't know how I succeeded in doing it--I suppose it wasinstinct--but I managed to follow the trail on foot, and after adesperate struggle I reached the village where the people helped me toget back to Bogota."

  Andrew's story was variously received. No one could doubt his honesty.With such transparent simplicity as his, it would be difficult tosuppose him capable of drawing--consciously at least--upon his fancy.Doctor Miranda suggested that he merely dreamed what he afterwardstook to be reality. But the others, discrediting this theory, wereapparently inclined to accept the story, so far as it went, in spite ofits fantastic and well nigh incredible features. Raoul Arthur appearedparticularly impressed and proposed immediate action.

  "I know the cleft in the rock," he said. "I have been over a smallpart of the passage to which it gives entrance. It was there, threeyears ago, in our attempt to undermine Lake Guatavita, that a charge ofdynamite exploded, after which David Meudon disappeared. I had no ideathat this passage extended back into the mountain as far as it does,according to Mr. Parmelee's story. But now--it strikes me, Mr. Leighton,that chance has given us the clew you were seeking last night. If youare still anxious to trace David's whereabouts, the path lies down thepassage entered by Mr. Parmelee and his togaed, sandaled guide."

  "You want to explore it?" demanded Leighton.

  "I do."

  "But why, if it was already known to you, have you not done thisbefore?"

  "The natives have always fought shy of going into it further than ourmining operations made necessary. Besides, I never had any reason tosuppose that it was more than a mere natural formation of rock--asit probably is--extending a short distance into the main body of themountain."

  "And now?"

  "I have no theory to advance. But," he added significantly, "it was inthis unexplored tunnel that David disappeared three years ago."

  The reminder had its effect. This linking up of the mysterious tunnelthat had so nearly proved fatal to Andrew, with David's first adventuresuggested the possible solution of a problem that had baffled them untilnow. In spite of Miranda's derisive comments on the schoolmaster's"fairy tale," there seemed to be only one thing to do--explore thetunnel. It might lead nowhere, and in that case the labor and therisk--if risk there was--would be of small account. If, however, it wasthe entrance to a subterranean dwelling, inhabited by people of whom thestrange being described by Andrew was a specimen, the discovery was wellworth making.

  "We will rescue David!" exclaimed Una, the eagerness of hope in hervoice.

  "But, my young lady," protested Miranda; "he go away many mile from thistunnel."

  "That is true," assented Leighton.

  "All the same, David was lost there before," Raoul reminded him. "It isa clew we are bound to follow."

  The question remained, how carry out the proposed exploration? Equippedwith miners' lamps, a number of which, of the best pattern, werestill among the stores David and Raoul had brought to Colombia at thebeginning of their venture, the worst difficulty--darkness--could easilybe overcome. Firearms, a supply of provisions, and oil for the lamps,were other items obviously needed. But the essential thing was, asDoctor Miranda tersely put it, "brains"--a cool-headed leader who wouldbring them back to the entrance of the tunnel in case of danger. GeneralHerran, with his military training and experience, was the man for thisrole. This hero of unfought battles was thereupon chosen captain o
f theexpedition--not, however, without some modest disclaimers of ability onhis part.

  "There will be five of us then," remarked Leighton. "General Herran,Doctor Miranda, Arthur, Parmelee and myself."

  "There will be six," amended Una.

  "Six?"

  "I will be one of the party."

  "Preposterous! You might as well make it seven, and include Mrs.Quayle."

  "I wouldn't think of going," declared that lady quivering withagitation.

  "It is not for the womens," argued Miranda, in his most conciliatorymanner. "There may be troubles, and we want only the mens."

  Una turned on him fiercely.

  "I don't believe there is any danger," she cried; "but, anyway, I amgoing. I am certain David is there. I will go!"

  To all of which Miranda gave an untranslatable exclamation denotingsympathy, admiration for the pluck of this unexpected volunteer.Leighton, however, was less easily moved, and it was not until his nieceassured him that she would return if the expedition promised to be adangerous one, that he consented to her passionate plea.