Chapter Twenty Seven.
A Journey in the Dark.
Again the hope which animated our breasts chased away the sense of depression and fatigue, as, lighting our last candle to obtain a better light, we clambered as rapidly as we could high up towards where the water came roaring from its vast culvert, just as with a loud shriek a bird flew out, like some creature of shadow-land, from a niche which had hitherto escaped our notice.
The next moment, after a flit round the amphitheatre, it gave another shriek, and we saw it re-enter the niche and disappear.
That there was an outlet to the upper world there we now had no doubt, but the question arose which exit presented the least peril—the ascent to this niche right over the arch of the torrent, or the way back by the vault of the troubled waters, to swim for our lives down the little river.
We did not pause long to consider, but, drawing our breath hard, sought to climb up to where the bird had disappeared.
We needed the activity and power of some animal born to a climbing life, for it was a terrible task, over slippery, spray-bedewed rocks, that seemed composed of ice. Our feet and hands slipped again and again, and more than once I felt that I must fall upon the bow of that torrent of inky water, at first by our side, soon right beneath us, and so be plunged into the seething cauldron below.
I found myself wondering whether, if I did so, my body would be forced through along some subterranean way to the vault of the troubled waters, from thence float out slowly along the little river, and so to the mouth of the cave and the outer sunshine.
Such thoughts were enough to unnerve one; but, bit by bit, we climbed on in safety, handing the candle from one to the other, and ever and anon stretching out a helping hand, till, how I cannot tell, we clung at length right over the falling torrent, with a piece of rock, smooth as the polishing of ages could make it, between us and the niche, which now proved to be a good-sized split separating a couple of rocks.
“You go first, Mas’r Harry,” Tom whispered, with his mouth close to my ear. “I’ll stand firm, and you can climb up my shoulders, and then lend me a hand.”