I am not a superstitious man (I have seen too much of the world for that), but the flint and steel as I struck it, had lit up the cave around me for an instant with a flash of light, and it was at that instant that the candle had been caught from me. It had been no human hand that had done this, for I could see distinctly around, and naught had touched my hand; only as I looked had the candle fallen from my fingers.
Again and again I struck the flint and steel, and peered wonderingly about me. There was no trace of the candle anywhere, only the bare, cold walls of the cave could I see, as I stood with white face and shaking hands.
The accents of a voice, stern and low, from I knew not where, fell upon my ears: "Go back! Go back! And if thou wouldst live, come not again to this place."
A sudden shiver passed over me, and my knees knocked together with terror; there was a grandeur and majesty in the tones that I had heard in no earthly language. It was as though I listened to the voice of a god. A sudden dread fell upon my soul as I stood there, and the craven "Fear" which I had never known before in all my life, on the fields of Ireland, or in great London, smote me with his cold hand.
Gone were my manhood and courage now, and I became as some old withered hag, crouched in the chimney by the fire. With a yell I turned and fled down that silent cavern, as though grim Death himself were at my heels. Twice I dashed into the wall in the darkness and fell, screaming at the top of my voice, thinking that the fiends had me for sure; but I was up again in an instant, and with another wild yell had resumed my flight.
My reason had forsaken me for the moment, and I was as though a madman. I fancied I could see white figures, with outstretched hands and glaring eyes, awaiting me at every step. Screaming and yelling I rushed on, and never once did I slacken pace, until in front of me I saw the light streaming through the undergrowth at the entrance.
Dashing up the embankment, I tore through the bushes and out into the open air again, where I cast myself flat upon the ground and sobbed with thankfulness for the sunlight, the calm blue sky above me, and the fresh air beating upon my face.
It must have been a ruse of DeNortier's to frighten me from the cave, fearing that I would discover some of his secrets or perhaps his buried treasure; and if it were a trick, it served his purpose well, for never, from that day to this, have I put foot again in that cavern. Not for a barrel of gold would I tread again its dark recesses and feel that thrill of horror at the sound of that solemn voice. I sometimes now at night awake trembling with fear, thinking I hear once more in my ears those calm, majestic tones, the like of which I have never heard again from the lips of man.
An hour after I had rushed from the cavern I was standing on the porch of the mansion, watching the ocean as it roared and chafed against its sandy prison, as though it were some caged thing striving to be free.