“Not exactly frightened,” answered Blanche; “but this terrible darkness and this awful silence makes me nervous. It seems so dreadful to be groping one’s way like this, without being able to see where one is going; and then I have a stupid feeling that the rocks above us may give way at any moment and bury us.”
“Not much fear of that,” said Lance with a laugh, which went echoing and reverberating along the passage in such a weird unearthly manner that Blanche clung to her companion in terror. “These rocks,” he continued, “have supported for years—probably centuries—the weight above them, and it is not at all likely they will give way just now without any cause. I daresay the time does seem long to you, darling, but you must remember we are walking at a much slower pace now than we were when we passed over the ground before. Of course we might walk faster, since we know the ground to be tolerably even and regular; still it is best to be cautious; if either of us happens to stumble here in the dark we might receive a rather severe blow. However, keep up your courage, we cannot be very much longer now.”
Once more they continued their way in silence, the ground sloping gently downwards all the while, as they could tell notwithstanding the darkness; and still no welcome ray of daylight appeared in the distance to tell them that they were approaching their journey’s end.
At length a vague and terrible fear began to make itself felt in Lance’s own mind. Recalling the incidents of their inward journey, he tried to reckon the time which they had occupied in passing from the open air along the gallery into the great cavern, and he considered that they could not possibly have been longer than twenty minutes, probably not as long as that. But it seemed to him that they had been groping there in the intense darkness for two hours at least! No, surely it could not be so long as that; the darkness made the time lag heavily. But if they had been there only one hour, they ought by this time to have reached daylight once more, slowly as they had been moving. Surely they had not—oh, no, it was not possible—it could not be possible—and yet—merciful God! what if they had by some dreadful mischance lost their way.
The strong man felt the beads of cold perspiration start out upon his forehead as the dreadful indefinable haunting fear at length took shape and presented itself before his mind in all its grisly horror. He had faced Death often enough to look him in the face now or at any time without fear; but to meet him thus—to wander on and on in the thick darkness, to grope blindly along the walls of this huge grave until exhaustion came and compelled them to lie down and die—never to look again upon the sweet face of nature—never again to have their eyes gladdened by the blessed light of the sun or the soft glimmer of the star-lit heavens—to vanish from off the face of the earth, and to pass away from the ken of their friends, leaving no sign, no clue of their whereabouts or of their fate—oh, God! it was too horrible.
Not for himself; no, if it were God’s will that thus he must die he had courage enough to meet his fate calmly and as a brave man should. Thank God, he had so lived that, let death come upon him never so suddenly, he could not be taken unawares. Lance Evelin was by no means a saint; he knew it and acknowledged it in this dread hour; but he had always striven honestly and honourably to do his duty, whatever it might be, with all his strength; and then, too, like the apostle, he knew in Whom he trusted.
No, Lance was not afraid of death on his own account; it was for the weak timorous girl by his side that all his sympathies were aroused. Doubtless she too possessed a faith firm enough to enable her to meet her fate undismayed—he believed she did; but what terrible bodily suffering must she pass through before the end came.
But perhaps, after all, he was alarming himself unnecessarily; even now they might be within a few yards of the outlet and yet not be able to see it, because, as he suddenly remembered, the passage was curved from its very commencement.
But then, he also remembered, the passage at its outer end was so narrow that Blanche had to walk behind him, and here they were, walking hand in hand and side by side, as they had been ever since they had entered this interminable passage.
“Blanche,” said he, steadying his voice as well as he could, “put out your hand, dear, and see whether you can reach the right-hand wall.”