margaret, as she let herself down into the chimney, held the torch so as to show her surroundings. she still clung to the rock above with her right hand, while the left was occupied by the torch. as yet, she had found no footing. the light revealed that this opening through the ridge was the result of the lodging of one huge block of stone, which had left the angle between it and the other rock empty. a clutter of fragments formed the third side of a triangle, which extended downward steeply as far as she could see. a feeling of sick apprehension swept over her when she perceived the manner in which some of the stones hung, seemingly poised to a fall. then, in the next instant, she recalled the reason of her presence there, and conquered dread in the need of action.
she saw a jutting bit of rock a few inches below her feet. she let herself down to the extreme limit of reach, and found herself just able to touch the support with a toe. she[360] released her hand-hold, and thus remained, half-standing, half-lying in the hole. she searched out other points to which her fingers might cling, at the height of her breast. clenching these, she bent her knees, and finally came to a crouching posture on the tiny ledge that had been under her feet. in the like tedious, slow fashion, she continued the descent, for a distance of perhaps twenty feet, without mishap, though in constant danger of a fall. but, at this point, new difficulties threatened. though she took long to search, she could find nothing to afford a foothold, even the tiniest. to make the matter worse, just here the smoothness of the walls was such that her hands could secure only a doubtful grip. she studied the situation painstakingly by means of the torch, making sure that nowhere a projection of the stone escaped her observation. she was distraught by this ill fortune, which threatened the ruin of her hopes. finally, however, she perceived by the light of the torch that, two yards or more below the point to which her feet reached, the chimney bent a little, toward the horizontal. at the sight, margaret’s courage sprang to[361] new life. without a second of delay in which fear might grow, she loosed her hold, and let herself slip downward.
the steepness of the chimney was so great that her movement was rather a fall than a slide. in the very second of the start, she felt the violent impact of her feet against the stone as they struck the bend. nor was the change of direction sufficient to overcome the impetus of the drop, as she had hoped. her body shot onward down the rough slope. she caught at the walls with her fingers, but, though the ragged surface tore the skin from her flesh, she could get no clutch strong enough to stay the flight. the torch had slipped from her grasp without her even being aware of its loss at the time. in the darkness, she went hurtling on. her spirit broke in those seconds of dreadfulness. she felt that death waited at the end of the fall. saxe’s name was on her lips when she crashed into pause.
for a long time she lay without any movement, her sole consciousness a dazed suffering from bruised flesh and aching bones. her senses all but failed, yet did not quite. a vague, incoherent necessity beat upon her[362] brain, though she could by no means understand what that need might be. her one clear realization was of pain—pain pervasive, deadly. but, little by little, the torment of racked nerves lessened. it seemed to her ages after that hideous drop through the black when, at last, her mind grew active again. on the instant, she was a creature transformed. she contrived with infinite pains to sit erect, alert to know the truth as to her own condition—for she still had work to do. to her relief, she found that, despite the complaining of her beaten body, she had been spared broken bones or other hurt that might disable. there was misery in each movement, but she could move, and with that she was content, grateful to providence that her plight was no worse. she looked back, and saw, a long way off, a feeble, pallid light, which came, she made certain, from the foot of the shaft at the bend. now, from its remoteness, she was able to make some estimate of the distance through which she had sped beyond it, and she was fain to wonder that she should be indeed alive.
it was easy to determine that she was lying on a shelf of rock, which was almost level.[363] she felt about this, and even ventured to crawl a short way. then, her groping hand struck on emptiness, and, shuddering, she drew back from the invisible void. nevertheless, weakness gave ground to desire. she must press onward, somehow, to the rescue. at once, she began creeping forward, bearing to the right, on which side she felt the sheer wall of a cliff. she judged that, by proceeding thus, she would be safe from the gulf as far as the ledge might run. she had gone perhaps twenty yards in this tortoise manner, when a sudden thought halted her in anger against the folly of having neglected the simplest expedient. saxe—the others—might be about anywhere, and she had not called to them! forthwith, she gathered her strength—such as was left to her—and sent out a cry, a pitiful, passionate cry.
“saxe! saxe!”
she listened in breathless suspense ... there came no answer.
then, after a time, she called again; and again there came no answer, yet she refused to lose hold on faith. she sought comfort in the thought that she was still too far from him for her voice to carry. so, she set forward[364] anew on hands and knees, her fingers groping over the rock on which she crawled, to make sure that the way was safe for her passing. physical suffering rent her, but an indomitable spirit spurred the jaded body. by sheer strength of will, she persisted in that pitiful progress through minute after minute, until at last she deemed the distance traversed enough to warrant a second calling into the dark:
“saxe! saxe!” sounded the repetition of her summons. followed an instant of profoundest silence, as the last echoes of the shrill cry died.
then, of a sudden, the air was shattered with clamors. a din of shouts roared in her ears, multiplied by the reverberations of the cavern, chaotic, deafening. out of all the cacophony, her strained sense caught a tone that thrilled the heart to rapture. her voice rose in a scream—hysterical, triumphant—in answer.
“saxe! saxe!” and then a weary murmur: “oh, thank god!”
a little silence fell. it was broken by her own name, spoken in his voice.
“margaret!”
[365]“yes, saxe,” she answered, simply. it was evident that the distance between them was not very great. she wondered that her calling should have remained unheard in the earlier effort. it occurred to her that perhaps in the first attempt she had not really cried out with all her might—as was, indeed, the case.
“you—you, margaret—you came for us!”
“yes.” there was no need to explain that she had come for him, for him alone. oh, she would be very glad that the others should win to life—but she had come for him, for him only. “you are safe?” she added.
“yes.” the others were silent, giving the dialogue to the girl and saxe, for they understood how it was between the two. “you came by the other entrance, of which you told me?”
“yes—through the chimney, on the ridge by the shore. may is there, watching and waiting for jake to come. we shall need help to get out. it is hard to climb. i slipped coming down.”
“you are hurt!” the lover’s voice was harsh with fear.
but margaret laughed blithely. what matter a few bruises now?
[366]“it shook me up a bit,” she confessed. “but i’m all right. the worst of it was that i lost my torch. can you come to me here? i know how to find the way back in the dark.”
billy walker deemed it time that he should assume direction of the affair.
“do you know how high above the water you are there, miss west?” he demanded. the gruff voice was very gentle, for gratitude to this girl burned hot in him, as in the others. she had brought the gift of life to dead men.
“no,” margaret answered.
“you are on a ledge, of course,” the sage continued. “please get to the edge of it, and reach down with your hand, and find if you can touch the water.”
there was a little delay before the reply came.
“yes.”
“be careful!” the sharp admonition was from saxe.
“it’s almost level with the shelf i’m on,” the girl continued.
“good!” billy’s tone was full of satisfaction. “that makes it very simple. we shall swim across to you, and then you will guide[367] us from these plutonian shades back to the upper world.” he turned toward the companions whom he could not see, and addressed them with crisp authority. “you will go first, saxe. her voice will guide you—she’s directly across the chamber from us. be ready afterward to help us with david when we get there. we shall allow you ample time to—er—climb out before we start to tote dave. go ahead.”
“i’m off,” saxe answered, promptly. then, he called to margaret, “talk a bit, please, while i’m in the water, so that i’ll know the direction. i’m just starting.”
there was a slight splash as saxe lowered his body into the water, and the soft swish from his strokes as he swam away.
“here, saxe! here i am! this way!” the girl continued the calls with joy in her tones. then, a minute later, she heard him speak her name softly, at her feet. in another instant, he was beside her on the ledge—she was in his arms, their lips met. he had no thought of his dripping garments, nor had she. they had no knowledge of anything save heaven.
billy walker’s voice went thundering across the cavern:
[368]“are you there, saxe?”
there was no reply. the sage chuckled aloud.
“the exercise of reason teaches me,” he explained in a voluminous whisper, “that our dear young friend is not drowned—oh, no! as a matter of fact, at this moment, he has already got clear of the water, and doesn’t know where he is, but is happier than he ever was before in his life. when he awakes from the trance, he will address us.”
so, in truth, it came to pass. presently, the call came from saxe, and the progress of the three across the cavern was safely accomplished. arrived, they pressed about the girl, who was standing, supported by her lover’s arm, and mightily embarrassed by the fervor of their gratitude for the boon of life bestowed on them by her intrepidity and resource. finally, the five set forth along the ledge, following it as margaret had come, by groping on the sheer wall from which it jutted. and, now, the girl no longer went with painful slowness on hands and knees, but walked bravely, upheld by the lover at her side. so, at last, they came to the spot where margaret’s fall[369] had ended. to their left, seemingly a great way off, and high above them, showed the pallid gleam from the bend of the chimney—blessed harbinger of god’s light above.
billy walker surveyed the dim vista of ascent with extreme disfavor.
“jake must bring ladders,” he declared. “luckily, he’s to fetch along help—a whole crew for the rescue work. oh, yes, i’ll wait—i don’t mind waiting. the water was warm, and the cavern’s warm, and, anyhow, wet clothes don’t bother—if one doesn’t think of them. but i wish i had a dry cigar and a match.”
roy thrust himself forward resolutely.
“nonsense!” he exclaimed. “i’ll climb up in a jiffy.” he had pulled off his shoes before starting for the first swim with david across the chamber, and now stood up in his stockinged feet. “i’m fond of cliff-climbing. the only trouble with this is, it’ll prove too easy.” without more ado, he scrambled upward through the darkness. the others waited anxiously, and breathed a sigh of relief when they saw his form at last silhouetted against the pale light at the bend. his voice came to them[370] muffled.
“the rest will be quicker, i can see, now.” forthwith, he vanished.
it was may on the solid earth above who heard him, and the happiness of it made her almost fainting. but she held herself sternly, and even managed a quavering call of his name—for which, when he heard, roy climbed the faster, and soon these two were in each other’s arms, glad beyond measure of gladness. the girl was in terror over the blood-stained bandage about her lover’s head, and cried when she learned of the treacherous shot that had wounded him. she cried again, with content, that it had been no worse. most of all, she cried for the exquisite bliss of his being alive and holding her in his arms—ruining the daintiest of summer frocks with his sodden, rock-stained clothes.
the strangeness of the spectacle thus presented by the ardent pair arrested the attention of jake and his crew, who chanced just then to arrive in the launch. so great became the boatman’s curiosity that he resolved to investigate before marching his company into the cavern. to this fact, and not to any alertness[371] on the part of the lovers in looking out for the coming of the launch, was due the quickness with which measures of relief were undertaken for those left in the depths. ropes were hurried to the scene; a lantern was lowered. it was then discovered that the descent was not so very difficult. with the way lighted, and a rope by which to cling, the various members of the party contrived to climb safely to the mouth of the chimney. margaret went first, with saxe behind to aid as best he might. david thwing was next, and last of all, by his own choice, billy walker.
“if i go last,” he explained to david, “i’m saved the discomfort of feeling that i ought to be hurrying to get out of somebody’s way.”
after the rescue had been effected, a watch made up from men trusted by the boatman was set over the chimney, at roy’s suggestion. then, the four young men, with the two girls, entered the launch to be taken to the cottage, for a change of clothing and luncheon. billy chuckled contentedly, while the other men appeared sheepish, when it was learned that noon remained still an hour distant.
“but the chances are poor of ever getting[372] that gold, after all,” saxe said ruefully, when they were under weigh.
roy uttered an indignant exclamation.
“nothing of the sort!” he declared. “david and i had the tackle fastened, all right, with a knot on the rope to save it from slipping through the block. and we had it hauled tight, too.” he laughed amusedly. “why, do you know? that treasure-chest has started up the slope already! i’ll bet what you like the shrinking of the rope has brought it out of the pit. a good gang of men can get that chest out in less than a half-day.” he spoke with the sureness of one having knowledge drawn from experience. that he was right the issue proved, for the gold was taken out very easily, and stored safely in the bank before nightfall.
that evening in the music-room, saxe sat playing the miser’s song of gold. still drumming the harsh phrases, he turned, and spoke to his friends with a whimsical smile.
“you know, i rather apologized to you for asking your help in this affair, because it didn’t offer anything much in the way of real adventure, but it did turn out a bit lively after all!”
[373]came a chorus of laughing assents.
“we owe masters gratitude for some thrills,” david said cheerfully. “and anyhow, he’s got his deserts.”
roy was on the point of saying something candid anent the dead engineer. but his eyes met those of may thurston, and he forgot hate, and remembered only love.
saxe spoke again presently, with a meditative air, though margaret thought that she could detect a twinkle deep in the gray eyes.
“roy was right in his idea about the solution of the mystery coming by psychic impression. it did. the curious part is that the one to receive the subtle suggestion from the world beyond was the last person to be suspected of anything of the kind—a kind so contrary to pure reason.”
“what’s that?” billy walker demanded.
“why, about the cipher,” saxe explained, placidly. “billy, tell us the truth. search your memory well. didn’t you first have the idea that the music had something to do with the hiding-place of the gold, and then didn’t you dig out the reasons to justify that idea—after you had it?”
[374]“of all the preposterous—” the sage began stormily.
but saxe interrupted ruthlessly:
“carefully! search your memory, billy. didn’t the idea come first, the reasons afterward? aren’t you psychically sensitive, billy walker? confess!”
“psychic—i!” the seer boomed, outraged. then, his brow became furrowed with thought. his expression changed to one of dismay. little by little, this wore away, a dawning satisfaction grew in its stead. finally, he spoke aloud to himself, unconsciously. “psychic—i? well, well!” and billy walker smiled.
saxe smiled in answer to the smile that was in margaret’s eyes as her glance met his. then he turned once again to the piano. the rhythm of the miser’s song of gold rang out. but now, the player touched the harsh measures with a certain grateful gentleness. in and over and about the grim chords, he wove daintier harmonies, lingered often for cadences of passion, wrought a counterpoint of basic love, set above all an exquisite melody, the unison of two hearts. the improvisation welled to a chorale[375] of magnificent praise for that lonely and unhappy man to whose morbid intrigue the player owed not merely a fortune, but something infinitely more—the meeting and the winning of the woman he loved.
“it’s the only tune i ever cared for,” quoth billy walker, complacently.
