It was ten days before he was ready to make his descent. Margaret was still at the seashore. They had written to each other frequently, but neither had made mention of the great shaft. Even when he was ready to go down, Clewe said nothing to any one of an immediate intention of descending. There was a massive door which covered the mouth of the pit; this he ordered locked and went away.
The next morning he walked into the building a little earlier than was his custom, called for the engineers, and for Bryce, who was to take charge of everything connected with the descent, and announced that he was going down that day.
Bryce and the men who were to assist him looked very serious at this. Indeed, if their employer had been any other man than Roland Clewe, it is possible they might have remonstrated with him; but they knew him, and they said and did nothing more than what was their duty.
The door of the shaft was removed, the car which had hung high above it was lowered to the mouth of the opening, and Roland stepped within it and seated himself. Above him and around him were placed [v]geological tools and instruments of many kinds, a lantern, food, and drink—everything, in fact, which he could possibly be presumed to need upon this extraordinary journey. A telephone was at his side by which he could communicate at any time with the surface of the earth. There were electric bells; there was everything to make his expedition safe and profitable. Finally he gave the word to start the engines; there were no ceremonies, and nothing was said out of the common.
When the conical top of the car had descended below the surface, a steel grating, with holes for the passage of the chains, was let down over the mouth of the shaft, and the downward journey began. In the floor of the car were grated openings, through which Clewe could look downward; but, although the shaft below him was brilliantly illuminated by electric lights placed beneath the car, it failed to frighten him or make him dizzy to look down, for the [v]aperture did not appear to be very far below him. The upper part of the car was partially open, and bright lights shone upon the sides of the shaft.
As he slowly descended, Clewe could see the various [v]strata appearing and disappearing in the order in which he knew them. Not far below the surface he passed cavities which he believed had held water; but there was no water in them now. He had expected these pockets, and had feared that upon their edges might be loosened patches of rock or soil, but everything seemed tightly packed and hard. If anything had been loosened, it had gone down already.
Down, down he went until he came to the eternal rocks, where the inside of the shaft was polished as if it had been made of glass. The air became warmer and warmer, but Clewe knew that the heat would soon decrease. The character of the rocks changed, and he studied them as he went down, continually making notes.
After a time the polished rocky sides of the shaft grew to be of a solemn sameness. Clewe ceased to take notes; he lighted a cigar and smoked. He tried to imagine what he would come to when he reached the bottom; it would be some sort of a cave, he thought, in which his shell had made an opening. He began to imagine what sort of a cave it would be, and how high the roof was from the floor. Clewe then suddenly wondered whether his gardener had remembered what he had told him about the flower-beds in front of the house; he wished certain changes made which Margaret had suggested. He tried to keep his mind on the flower-beds, but it drifted away to the cave below. He thought of the danger of coming into some underground body of water, where he would be drowned; but he knew that was a silly idea. If the shell had gone through [v]subterranean reservoirs, the water of these would have run out, and before it reached the bottom of the shaft would have dissipated into mist.
Down, down he went. He looked at his watch; he had been in that car only an hour and a half. Was that possible? He had supposed he was almost at the bottom. Suddenly his mind reverted to the people above and the telephone. Why had not some of them spoken to him? It was shameful! He instantly called Bryce, and his heart leaped with joy when he heard the familiar voice in his ear. Now he talked steadily on for more than an hour. He had his gardener summoned, and told the man all that he wanted done in the flower-beds. He gave many directions in regard to the various operations at the works. There were two or three inventions in which he took particular interest, and of these he talked at great length with Bryce. Suddenly, in the midst of some talk about hollow steel rods, he told Bryce to let the engines run faster; there was no reason why the car should go so slowly.
The windlasses moved with a little more rapidity, and Clewe now turned and looked at an indicator which was placed on the side of the car, a little over his head. This instrument showed the depth to which he had descended, but he had not looked at it before, for if anything would make him nervous, it would be the continual consideration of the depth to which he had descended.