“True;—you may soon look for confinement in a deeper and darker chamber.”
When the soldier quitted the prisoner’s cell, the latter began to muse upon the communication intended to be conveyed by his unexpected visitor. He knew the fakeer to be a man eminent for his piety throughout the country, and therefore held in the greatest reverence. He was supposed to have supernatural communication with members of another world, and, consequently, was as much feared as reverenced; which accounts for the respect and forbearance shown to him by the garrison of the mountain-fortress during his mysterious visit to their prisoner.
After the fakeer’s departure, the unhappy captive began to reflect upon the signification of those symbols which had been dropped upon the floor before him. It was evident they were intended to convey some information, which it was expected his wit would be quick enough to comprehend. Although he had obtained but an imperfect glance at the ring which the soldier who had accompanied the stranger held in his own hand and at a distance, yet he fancied it was familiar to him. He had, however, only a vague and indefinite recollection of it; still it occurred to him that it was not the first time he had seen the golden trinket. Upon considering the matter further, it struck him that the ring must be a pledge sent from some one interested in his welfare: it implied confidence in the messenger, and a religious man could only be a messenger of peace.
The more he thought, the more satisfied he felt that he had received a message which warranted the expectation of liberty. The rhododendron was a flower which grew upon the far mountains, where the genius of Liberty abides; it was therefore an emblem of that freedom which his heart panted to secure. In this symbol, then, he recognised the suggestion that his liberty might be obtained: but how? The third symbol was a sufficient corollary to the two first problems: a dove flying from a hawk told him, in terms sufficiently clear, that he must attempt his escape. It was by no means evident how this was to be accomplished; and the difficulties which presented themselves, as he calculated the probable chance of success, staggered his resolution, and almost crushed his hopes. It occurred to him, notwithstanding, that means would be supplied. That the fakeer had visited him for some especial purpose there could be no doubt; and he resolved to await the issue, satisfied it would not end where it had begun.
CHAPTER II.
Next morning the prisoner was confined to the ante room, and told that on the following day his cell would be changed for one deeper in the heart of the mountain. He knew that the lower he descended, the more cheerless would be his habitation. About sunset an arrow was shot through the loophole of his cell, to the shaft of which was attached a strip of the palmyra leaf: upon this was scratched with a stylus the following words: “Unfasten the twisted thread at the head of this arrow; break off the steel barb, attach it to the end of the thread, and lower it into the valley as soon as darkness shall render it invisible to your guards.”
Soon after the sun had sunk behind the ocean, with a palpitating heart the captive obeyed this injunction, and drew up a strong silken rope, about the size of his fore-finger; attached to which was another strip of palmyra leaf, with the following direction: “Conceal this, and take the first seasonable opportunity to lower yourself from the rock. Despair not—you have friends; be vigilant and cautious—but despise difficulties.” On that night the sky became overcast, and the heat oppressive to such a degree that the air of the prisoners cell was scarcely respirable. There was no star visible throughout the whole expanse of the heavens. The sun had set behind vast masses of clouds, the skirts of which caught his rays, and reflected them in infinitely varied tints upon the summits of the hills. They were of an intensely opaque purple, but fringed with a fiery glow, as if the trains were already fired that communicated with the magazines concealed within their dark bosoms, and about to be ignited to a fearful explosion. The aspect of the skies had been lowering throughout the day. As evening advanced, the gloom had increased; and as the sun was withdrawing his light, which faded from the deepening volumes that hung around his disc, he seemed to glare ominously. He bade this world a sullen good-night, as he descended behind the grey waters to enlighten other spheres, and leave this to its repose; but the elements were too busy to allow that repose to be universal.
The hurricane roared over the sleepers’ heads, and roused them from their dreams to witness the strife of nature in one of her sublimest conflicts. Long before midnight the tempest howled fearfully above the fortress. The sentinels upon the walls were drenched, and the clouds projected their fires, as if commencing the final conflagration. This was supposed to be the work of the fakeer, who had quitted the fort, muttering menaces of mischief. The storm was appalling. The soldiers shrank from the conflux of excited elements, and sought shelter within the shaft from their pitiless fury. The thunder burst with an explosion that appeared to convulse the whole expanse above. A peal shook the fortress to its foundation. The entire mountain seemed to stagger as if reeling over the chasm of an earthquake: a flash of lightning followed; the bolt struck the rock, and split it almost to the base. The thunder again rolled above, and the immediate silence which succeeded was like the intense silence of death.
The mischief had taken place upon that side of the mountain inhabited by the prisoner. He started from his couch; and so sudden was the effect produced by the thunderbolt, that, upon reaching the loophole, he perceived a huge mass had been struck down by the electric fire, and the side of the mountain so shattered, that by pushing against the fractured body, a large portion of rock which formed the wall of his cell gave way, and rolled with a hideous crash into the valley beneath. The cries of the monkeys inhabiting the trees succeeded to the dull booming sound of the falling rock, and mingled strangely with the furious collision of the elements above. The prisoner stood still awhile, amazed at the awful violence of the tempest, when the soldier who had attended the fakeer again abruptly entered his cell. He started at seeing the opening made by the lightning, and cautiously closed the door behind him.
“You must change your apartment this night; there is too much of heaven’s light here for a state captive.”