The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
and for a while there was silence.
She had kept casting feverish glances in the direction of the passage, hoping against hope that the flicker of Jim's torch might suddenly appear, or that she might hear his voice close to her. But the darkness had remained unbroken, and the only voice she had heard had been that of the poor brute yelling above them.
And now as the silence continued she began to try and get some order into the chaos of her mind. Bill was right of course: for some reason or other these horrible creatures regarded the blind dwarf as a god. And in him it seemed to her lay their best chance of safety. The trouble was that, not unnaturally he was more terrified than any of them. They, at any rate, could see what they were up against: whereas to him the situation must appear doubly awful. To be utterly helpless in their hands: to be picked up and carried by them would be enough to send him off his head. And if that happened—what then? He would be useless as far as helping any of them to escape was concerned.
Time dragged on; still no sign of Jim. And after a while she began to lose heart. What could one man do, even a man like him, against a horde of these foul monsters. Strong though he was she realised that he would be like a child in the hands of one of them: what then could he hope to do against fifty? Had he just postponed the inevitable for a short time? Would it have been better if Bill had not shut up his knife?
And then another ghastly thought struck her: supposing they had already got him. And killed him. Some of those yells might have come from Jim. And if that was so she realised that she didn't mind what happened to her.
At length nature asserted herself and she began to doze. Around her all the others were fast asleep, except Bill who forced himself to keep awake on the chance of getting another message from Jim. And it was his sudden grip on her arm that awoke her, as much as the noise of a dull boom accompanied by a distinct earth tremor.
"What is it, Bill?" she cried.
"Sounded to me like an explosion, miss," he answered. "And it came from a long way off. Seems to have woken the brutes again, too."
Above them they could hear the ape-men moving about and talking to one another excitedly. And then from a great distance there came faintly a roar. It was caught up and repeated from closer at hand: then again from quite near by. A signal of warning was being communicated through the forest, and the effect on the monsters above was instantaneous. Pandemonium broke loose: the ground over their heads shook so much that lumps of earth were dislodged and fell on them.
"Can't have been a big gun," said Bill thoughtfully. "There couldn't be a warship here, and if there was she wouldn't fire. Besides we'd have heard the shell burst."
He struck a match and looked at his watch: two hours now before daylight. And he was just blowing it out when his eyes fell on a twisted piece of paper lying at his feet. He snatched it up, and opened it out: it was a note from Jim.
"It's from Mr. Maitland, miss," he cried excitedly. "He must have dropped it through when he spoke to us that time. You read it while I light some more matches."
With their heads together they pored over it.
"Do not be alarmed whatever happens," it ran. "Obey me implicitly, and we'll do it yet. As a last resource I have a revolver. The crucial time will be after the explosion. Then keep your heads close together."
"That's now, miss," muttered Bill. "And here come the brutes back again."
The torch bearers were returning along the passage: the others came crowding behind them. And it was clear that they were in a furious passion. Angry, snarling grunts came from all sides and the prisoners cowered back against the walls. The dwarf instead of being placed reverently on the ground was thrown down with such force that he lay there half stunned: evidently his period of godhead was over. And the leader of the monsters, its face convulsed with bestial rage shambled round the circle peering at each victim in turn.
Suddenly it paused, and a hush fell on them. Once again that mysterious circle of light was playing round on their upturned faces, and Judy clutched Bill's hand. Jim was there once more. The light danced here and there, until it finally centred on the dwarf where it remained steady. And with a bellow of rage one of the ape-men picked him up.
Instantly the light began to move again, and the great brutes paused. What further victim did their god desire save this false imposter? Round the waiting circle the beam moved, lighting up each face in turn and then on to the next. And suddenly Bill remembered the letter.
"Then keep your heads close together."
He leaned over till his cheek touched Judy's.
"Orders, miss," he whispered. "It's us this time, or I'm a Dutchman."
He could feel her body quivering against his; the light was only two away. Once more it moved: and then again. Their two faces showed up clear in the beam, and the beam remained steady.
An ape-man dashed at them: the light went out, and the monster paused. Once more it shone out, and from above them came the order "Get up." Bill helped her up, the light shining on their faces as they moved. And once more two of the monsters came at them. Instantly the light went out again, and the brutes halted, evidently puzzled. Their god clearly did not wish these two victims to be touched.
"Move."
Another laconic order, and with the light again illuminating their heads they walked towards the entrance tunnel. The ape-men thronged round them till Judy thought she was going to faint with horror. But they did not touch her, and with Bill's arm supporting her she stumbled along the narrow passage.
The beam from above had ceased: only the flickering yellow light from the three torches showed the way. In front of her she could see the agonised face of the dwarf, as he was carried along by one of the monsters, and in spite of all he had done, she could not help feeling sorry for him. He could be no help to them now: he was just a fellow victim more helpless far than they were.
At length they reached the open air, and she drew great gulps of it into her lungs until she felt steadier on her feet. Then still clinging to Bill's arm she peered round half hoping to see Jim. It was dark, but not with the overpowering blackness of the underground prison they had left. And as her eyes grew accustomed to it she realised they were standing in a big clearing. The shadowy forms of the ape-men were moving about: close by them stood two of the hideous monsters. And one of them suddenly put out its hand and touched her on the shoulder.
She gave a little scream, and shrank closer to Bill. But the pressure continued and she found herself being forced forward, while the sailor kept close by her side. The clearing narrowed into a track, then widened out again into another open space. And the ape-man's grip tightened so that she stood still.
The monsters were curiously silent: there was a feeling of tension in the air. By the light of the torches she could see their eyes shining as they crouched in a semi-circle round her. In front of her stood the one carrying the dwarf, and at its feet there gleamed a streak of something on the ground. Water: the smoky flames were reflected in it as by a mirror. And beyond the water—nothing.
Suddenly a sound that was half a gasp ran round the motionless watchers, and Bill clutched her arm. The darkness beyond the water was becoming faintly luminous. The monster holding the dwarf put his burden on the ground and fell flat on its face: the others prostrated themselves likewise, as the luminosity increased. And with curiosity overcoming her terror Judy stared at this extraordinary phenomenon.
The centre of the light seemed to be about six feet from the ground, and as it grew stronger and stronger the ape-men began to manifest signs of increasing terror. The torch bearers had dropped their burdens, which lay smoking on the ground, and had thrown themselves on their faces also. Only Judy and Bill still stood up, with the misshapen figure of Dresler just in front of them moving restlessly about on his stunted legs.
At last the light focussed itself into a definite nucleus: a circle some three inches in diameter that shone steadily. Around the circle it grew fainter till it faded into the general darkness. Gradually the nucleus increased in size, and as it did so the agitation of the monsters