As she pointed they glanced in the direction indicated by the old woman’s finger, and Gil uttered a cry, for in the dark, powder-riven entry to the store, and not a dozen yards away, stood a weird figure with long, flowing hair. The arms and shoulders were bare, and the white hands covered the face, giving it as it stood in the obscurity of the cave a spiritual look that made even the least superstitious of the party—Gil himself—shudder, feeling that he was in the presence of a being of another world.
How Culverin Carr solved a Problem.
Sweet Mace stood motionless in the opening, a soft blue reek floating gently out from the store, as the damp air of the place was driven forth by a downward current through a fissure far in its depths; and this, as it surrounded the rescued prisoner, added to the unreality of the scene. For the figure was seen through a medium that rendered it unsubstantial in aspect, added to which the deadly whiteness of the brow and hands made it look unnatural to a degree.
For some time no one spoke. The men grouped together, stared at the strange apparition in the cavern mouth, and Wat Kilby gazed from it to his leader and back, while the soft wind wafted the blue haze from the opening away from the motionless figure, and then enveloped it again, as if it were part and parcel of the subterranean abode, and it sought to draw its occupant back to its shades.
Mother Goodhugh was the first to break the silence, as, crawling towards the place on hands and knees, she crouched at last at Mace’s feet, and lay there, panting.
“She has come from the dead to fetch me,” moaned the old woman, whose reason seemed to wander. “I know her. See how white, and cold, and strange she is. My child, my child, I killed thee, I killed thee; and now—now—have pity on me! have pity! I be not a witch.”
She grovelled lower and lower, clasping Mace’s bare, white feet, and laid her cheek against them, while, still keeping one hand across her eyes, the poor girl bent down slowly, and touched the crouching wretch.
Gil had remained motionless till now; but as he saw the figure move, his faith in its being supernatural was shaken, and with a loud cry he ran forward with outstretched hands.
“Mace,” he cried, hoarsely, “speak to me, oh, speak!”