His reply annoyed me. It seemed that he either doubted me, or attributed my illusion to some trick of my own.
“At least you will accompany me on a ride around the base,” I said. “I have not yet abandoned hope.”
“Oh, very well,” he said, with a reluctance that was apparent. “As you wish. I’m afraid, however, you’re in search of a phantom.”
The mountain cast a welcome shadow, and as we turned our faces northward and picked our way over the stones, riding was not at all unpleasant. For some time, however, neither of us spoke, but when we had ridden about a quarter of a mile further round the base, I suddenly reined up, and, pointing to a great precipitous cliff of granite that, jutting out before us, rose about a hundred feet from the plain, cried—
“See! The cave! At last! Surely that is more than a phantom?”
My companion shaded his eyes with his hands for a second, then, turning to me, in an awed voice answered—
“Yes! It is indeed a cave, exactly as you have described it! Forgive me for doubting, but the puzzling strangeness of these extraordinary incidents must be my excuse.”
“Of course,” I answered, too excited for complimentary phrases, and with one accord we both bounded forward, dismounting a few moments later before the strange, mysterious cavern.
Taking our rifles, we both peered into the darkness, which was rendered more impenetrable on account of the brilliance of the day. Breathlessly excited, we stood on the threshold of the natural chamber, the existence of which had been so curiously revealed to me. What mystery lay therein hidden we knew not, and for some moments stood straining our eyes into the dusky gloom. The Crescent of Glorious Wonders had so far revealed the mystery; we had now to explore the cave in search of the Great Secret which Mohammed ben Ishak had promised would be revealed.
“If we are to enter, we shall want a light,” Octave said at last, in a voice strained by excitement.