Suddenly, ten yards in the lead down the dark tunnel the horse threw his weight back with a clatter of sparks and screamed as only a horse can. After that there was neither sight nor sound of him.
Creeping forward with both arms outstretched against the left-hand wall, he reached the spot where, the horse had been, and shuddered on the smooth dark edge of a hole that went the full width of the floor. There came whispering up out of it, and a dank wet smell, as if there were running water a mile away below. He could feel that a little air flowed downward into it. Twenty yards away on the far side the path resumed, but there was neither hand nor foothold on the smooth damp walls between. He went back to his men with a shiver between his shoulder-blades, and the mullah, standing in the gap of the mosque wall, blinked at him with lashless eyes.
“Many have entered,” he chanted maliciously. “Some went out by a different road!”
“Come!” Ismail growled at the other men, seizing the mule's bridle himself and leading to the left. “The ghosts will have a charger now for their captain to ride! Lead on, Hakim sahib!”
“Come!” called the one-eyed guide from the neck of the fork ahead. And as they all pressed forward after King the hairless mullah gave a signal and the great stone door slid slowly into place. It was like a tombstone. It was as if the world that mortals know were a thing of the forgotten past and the underworld lay ahead.
“Lead along, Charon!” King grinned. He needed some sort of pleasantry to steady his nerves. But even so he wondered what the nerves of India would be like if her millions knew of this place.
Chapter IX
Oh, Abdul trod with a martial tread,
Swinging his scimiter's weight.
“I am overlord here,” he said,
“And he who wishes may chance his head,
“For my blade is long, and my arm is strong,
“And the goods of the world to the bold belong!”
So Abdul guarded the gate.
Many a head did Abdul cleave,
Turban and crown and chin,
For all the 'venturers sought to know
What it could be he guarded so.
And since none give but eke receive,
A thrust in his ribs made Abdul grieve
For good blood outpourin'.
His men wept, watching Abdul bleed
And life's light waning dim,
Till he cursed them. “Open the fort gate wide!
To saddle, and scour the countryside
For a leech!” he swore. “God rot ye, ride!”
'Twas thus, in the guise of a friend in need,
His enemy came to him.
The second gap closed up behind them and the tunnel began to echo weirdly. The mule was the next to be panic-stricken. The noise of his plunging increased the echoes a thousand times and multiplied his fright, until the poor brute collapsed into meek obedience at last. But the guide strode on unconcerned with his easy Hillman gait, neither deigning to glance back nor making any verbal comment.