A detonation thundered far away below us. The spasm passed; I pulled the rope, the Professor passed the signal, and we resumed our insect-like progress. Singular that, as I moved again, the thought of Dante and Virgil crossing the bridge over the tenth circle, as illustrated by Dore, rose distinctly, clear, indubitable, in front of me. It even seemed possible for me to define the pagination of the leaf I actually saw. This strange resuscitated impression kept me conscious.
THE PERPETUAL NIMBUS
On, on; the arete remained unchanged; our progress was encouraging; I seemed cognizant of a deeper gloom; it was the opposite wall. We had reached it. Alas! It rose above our heads and must be scaled! Goritz pulled the rope, the signal ran through the file and we halted again. The path broadened now, as at its eastern end, and our legs were relieved from the irksome straddle they had been subjected to. It was a welcome pause to me. I knew that the last scrap of effort I was capable of was needed now, if some vertical wet wall was to be surmounted in that almost impenetrable blackness.
In about fifteen minutes the tug came again, and we knew Goritz had solved some problem of the ascent confronting us. I heard him calling back, and the Professor answering. Then I found myself in this situation; on a fairly wide platform against a broken wall and up it I heard the scratching exertion of the Professor as he seemed to be bodily pulled up the ragged face. The constantly falling rain had ceased. But as the Professor rose, I felt he was no longer attached to me. I drew in the rope before me and came to its loose end. We were separated! Aghast, I was unable to speak, but my outstretched arms encountered Hopkins.
“Hopkins, Hopkins,” I hoarsely whispered, “the rope has parted. We are alone!”
“Don’t worry,” replied that extraordinary man, “we couldn’t be lonelier than we have been. This solitude is the most unbroken bit of isolation I ever walked into. Of course we’re separated. This interesting masonry we’ve struck isn’t very well constructed. It isn’t plumb. It hangs out a leetle above. Goritz found it out, uncoiled himself, got to the top, told the Professor to drop you and me, and is now engaged in hoisting that scientific encyclopedia up to bliss and safety. We won’t stay dropped long. We’re to go the same way, and really, admirably adapted for concealment of an escaped felon as is this retreat, honest men could afford to dispense with its protection.”
I sometimes thought that when Hopkins talked this way on the verge of destruction he was a little demented from fear. Perhaps I wronged him.
“But say, Erickson, you’re not well, old fellow.”
I had fallen against him; another surge of giddiness and harsh pains lacerating my joints had overcome me. Then I was struck by a rope end; it had descended from above. Understanding it all now, and clutching at the hope of deliverance from the terrors around us, I roused myself.