Part 22

The latter had withdrawn to the far side of David's couch, whence he had watched, with alternate amusement and contempt, all that took place between these two. He now advanced, with the air of one who has the mastery of a difficult situation, and again proffered his services. There was mockery in his voice; before he addressed himself to his task he repeated his warning to Sajipona, reminding her that it might be better not to revive too suddenly a past filled, possibly, with disagreeable surprises. His warning waved impatiently aside, Raoul turned swiftly upon David, his restless, irritating eyes fixed in a steady glare that, bit by bit, broke down the latter's opposition. Forcing his victim to be seated upon the side of the couch, he stood over him, for a short space, in silence. There was nothing in all this of the gesture and mummery traditionally accompanying certain spectacular manifestations of hypnotism; neither were the two men at any time in physical contact with each other. An onlooker would say that the younger man was unconsciously brought into a passive condition by the exertion upon him of a stronger will, intensified by facial peculiarities that were well calculated to hold the attention. Eyes like Raoul's, although exciting repugnance, at the same time arouse curiosity. Once absorbed in probing their baffling depths, the object of their regard yields to a sort of baleful fascination hard to shake off. In former years David had been used by Raoul in various psychological experiments, and was thus accustomed, on such occasions, to surrender himself to the other's compelling influence. This habit was now unconsciously revived. The old grooves of thought and conduct were reopened, as it were, by the resumption of a parallel outward condition. As a result, David fell into a state of complete mental inertia.

To this influence Raoul now added the force of direct suggestion, or, rather, verbal command. The subtle arts of apparent submission, or, at the least, mild expostulation which he usually employed in gaining his ends with an intractable opponent, were cast aside. His attack was concentrated, he spoke scornfully, without compromise in utterance or meaning, so that his hypnotized subject was forced either to resist or to be carried along by him. Through this direct, positive method, he took David back, step by step, over events in the immediate past that had become obscured in his memory.

"On the road from Honda," he told him, "you were traveling with another man. You were both going to Bogota. You stopped on the road, and at this man's suggestion you drank several toasts. The liquor confused you. You began to lose track of things. Suddenly, you and your companion met a ragged army of volunteers marching, as they said, to avenge their country on the Americans at Panama. This encounter, bringing you into direct contact with Colombian hostility to your countrymen, intensified your abnormal condition. In the confusion caused by meeting the volunteers, you were separated from your companion. His name--don't forget!--was General Herran. He also had been mixed up in the Panama troubles. By this time--that is, after you had lost Herran--owing to these various causes, you had fallen into one of those states of forgetfulness that you had experienced before. In this state you forgot what had just happened and remembered instead your experience here three years ago, when your brain had been stunned by an explosion of dynamite. Living again in this memory, you met two cavemen. They spoke to you. You knew them. Immediately, it seemed to you that you were on your way with them to meet Sajipona in this cave where you had been three years before. All that had passed between then and now faded from your mind. But, of course you know that is preposterous! Nothing fades from the mind. The memory of that period that you think you have forgotten is really in your brain, waiting for you to call it to life. And now, you will call it to life."

The emphasis, the force in what Raoul was saying was due more to his manner, the intensity with which he regarded David, than in the actual words themselves. It was, in a measure, a contest of wills; but, either through long habit of yielding to Raoul in these experiments, or else through a desire to carry out what was evidently Sajipona's wish, there was no doubt from the first of the result. And when this result came, it was decisive. After the first sentence David's instinctive opposition was weakened. The desire to allay the anxiety obscurely felt in his own mind helped to bring him under Raoul's influence. The unexpected sight of Una had disturbed him. Ever since their meeting he had been aware that something in him was lacking, some clew lost between his past and his present. Sajipona, deeply conscious though he was of her majestic beauty, began to take on the vagueness of outline belonging to those persons whose relationship to ourselves is so doubtfully circumstanced that we momentarily expect to lose sight of them altogether. She was literally becoming the dream-woman, the intangible, lovely ideal of youth that he had playfully called her, while Una was becoming correspondingly more real, less elusive. For this very reason, this fear that fate was about to take from him one so desirable as Sajipona, he had felt an excess of joy upon seeing her now. His greeting had been more than usually demonstrative because her coming had reassured him, silenced doubts that were disquieting. Then, on the heels of this, he was aware of Raoul, with all that he meant of uncertainty and restlessness. And yet, in spite of his distaste for anything that threatened the peaceful course his life seemed to be taking, a secret feeling of relief tempered the repulsion aroused by the sudden appearance of his long forgotten friend. Raoul's words and manner completely possessed him. The scene that he recalled of his meeting with the cavemen on the Honda road was etched on his mind as vividly as if it had just been experienced. And now, with this starting point fixed, Raoul took him backward, step by step.

Again he saw himself with General Herran, stopping on the Honda road to exchange those fatal civilities, and immediately after, the noise and confusion of the marching volunteers, with their threats of vengeance against the Yankees. Back of this came the quiet march with Herran. He recalled their talk, something of their friendly disputes. The effort to do this bewildered him. It seemed as if he were stepping from one world into another. Everything was merged into one gigantic figure of Raoul, a Raoul towering above him, concentrating himself upon him, dominating him until all else faded away and he was lost in a dreamless sleep, filled only with that word of command--"remember!"

How long he remained in this state of unconsciousness--for it was that rather than sleep--he did not know. It might have been years, it might have been a mere moment of time. When the spell was finally broken by Raoul the scene that met his awakened senses puzzled him. He was in Sajipona's palace, in the room where Raoul had confronted and subdued him. But it was all unfamiliar. His mind was filled with his mission to Bogota. His parting with Una in the sunny courtyard of the inn came back to him, irradiating a dreamy happiness. He had been through some strange experiences since then, he knew. The sight of the bed hangings under which he was reclining, the great spaces of the room, the softened light of the cave, kept alive the memory of many a novel, fantastic adventure. Shaking off his drowsiness, he sprang to his feet. Sajipona and Raoul advanced to meet him. Sajipona! Yes, he remembered her. She was the beautiful Indian queen he was to marry in his dream--it must have been a dream, because Una was not there; except that, at the very last, he remembered, Una had stepped in for just a moment--and he had not known her! How amazed, angry, she must have been! And then--what else could have been expected?--she had gone away. He was anxious now for her safety, although how she could possibly be in this cave, how she could have found her way here, was a hopeless puzzle. The first word he uttered was a cry to Sajipona:

"Where is Una?"

Raoul would have answered, but Sajipona checked him. She realized the full significance of David's question, although outwardly she showed nothing of her emotion.

"You are yourself again--I am glad," she said.

"But Una----?"

"She is safe. She reached Bogota after you left Honda."

David's relief was evident, although his eyes showed the perplexity arising from his strange awakening.

"I thought she had found her way here," he said. Then he turned again to Sajipona, this time with an impulsive gesture of gratitude. "I remember everything now. You saved my life. Every moment with you has been filled with happiness. How can I ever be grateful enough for the kindness you have shown me?"

He knelt before her, kissing her hand. She smiled; her other hand rested upon his shoulder.

"Grateful!" she exclaimed playfully. "Have we not a lifetime together before us? You have forgotten the festival that awaits us on the top of the mountain."

"No, I have not forgotten."

"Do you want it to take place?"

He arose to his feet, clasping his hands over his eyes as if to fix an uncertain impression. When he bared his face before her again, there was quiet determination in his glance. Again he took her hand in his, pressing it to his lips. Then, with eyes fixed full upon hers, he answered her question:

"Yes."

XXII

A PEOPLE'S DESTINY

Miranda and, in a lesser degree, those who were with him in the palace garden, were indignant at their enforced separation from Una and Sajipona. The doctor, priding himself especially on Raoul's discomfiture, considered the queen guilty of the basest ingratitude, and even suspected that she might be, at that moment, plotting their destruction. Leighton and Herran scoffed at this, but it appealed to Mrs. Quayle, and that lady, clinging nervously to Andrew, followed Miranda's explosive talk with appreciative horror. This proving a profitless diversion, however, Leighton proposed the adoption of a plan for immediate action. An attack on the palace, or a retreat that would bring them to the entrance of the cave, were alternately considered. But as both plans seemed to leave Una out of their reach, they were discarded as impossible, and it looked as if they would have to settle down to an indefinite stay in the garden. In the midst of the discussion the doors of the palace were thrown open and Narva and Una hurried out to meet them. Still fearing ambuscades and other undefinable treacheries, Miranda was by no means ready to throw aside his caution at their approach. But the aged sibyl's lofty disdain was disconcerting, nor was there any resisting the whole-hearted joy with which Una greeted them.

To their eager inquiries she gave the briefest replies. For one thing, she assured them that they had Sajipona's promise that their escape from the cave would be easy and not too long delayed. Of the queen's friendly disposition towards them, she said, there was not the slightest doubt. They could count on the carrying out of her promise if, on their side, the conditions she proposed were observed. These conditions were: never, once they were out of it, to enter the cave again; to reveal as little as possible to the outside world of their experiences during their present adventure; and to keep an absolute silence regarding Sajipona's relationship to this mysterious race of people.

Beyond this Una would say little. The conditions were joyfully accepted. Nothing, certainly, could ever induce them to enter the cave again. But then--there was David. Yes, Una admitted, David was in the palace. She had seen him. He was free, so far as she knew, to come or go as he chose. But he had not said he would return with them. It might be, indeed, that he would choose to live permanently with the cavemen--an amazing possibility that started an avalanche of questions to which only the vaguest answers were given. Doubtless they would see David before they left, Una assured them, and learn for themselves all they wished to know. As for Raoul, she could tell nothing. He was, apparently, in favor with the queen, and engaged in some undertaking for her.

Una betrayed none of her suspicions regarding David in her discussion of these matters. She had not seen him since that first meeting in the little portico adjoining his quarters in the palace, hence she was ignorant of the result of Raoul's experiment. Sajipona had come to her immediately after its conclusion and, judging by the quiet cheerfulness of her manner, she fancied everything had gone to her satisfaction. This was confirmed by the announcement of the festival that was shortly to take place. This festival, Una had been told, was to be the occasion for great rejoicing among the cave people. It was a sort of national day, a celebration that had not been held in many a long generation. It was intended to recall, she heard, the ancient feast of El Dorado, the Gilded Man, about which, of course, as it existed among the Chibchas before the period of the Spanish invasion, Una was familiar through the traditions as told by David and Leighton. What form this revival of the old ceremonies would take had not been explained. But it piqued her curiosity and, in spite of resentment and wounded pride, she cherished a secret hope that it would bring about a final understanding of David's position in regard to Sajipona and herself. She felt sure David would be at the festival, and she had an intuitive feeling as well that his presence would dispel the mystery that sundered them. She did not look for, nor did she consciously want a reconciliation. Bitterly she denied herself the possibility of one. But she wished to know definitely, and to its full extent, David's faithlessness to her. After she had learned this, they could not start on their homeward journey too quickly.

Still absorbed in these reflections, Una and her companions, under Narva's lead, entered the great court of the palace. Una, of course, had grown familiar with the strange features to be found in this hall of marvels; but the others, entering it for the first time, were amazed at what they saw there. In Leighton this feeling of wonder reached its highest pitch. The shattering of one scientific belief after another that he had experienced ever since entering the cave left him, it is true, somewhat callous to new impressions. But this apathy, if it can be called that, melted away as he stood beneath the great white dome that soared in flashing lines above them. Looking up at the huge ball of fire suspended just beyond the apex of this dome, for a moment he remained speechless. Then, turning to his companions, he voiced the ecstasy that comes with some unexpected, epoch-making discovery.

"Do you know what that is?" he demanded.

No one did. Miranda shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention ostentatiously elsewhere, as if floating balls of crackling white flames, used to illuminate caves, were matters of ordinary experience with him. Andrew's mouth was opened quite as wide as his eyes as he stood staring upward at the curious illumination. It would be a splendid saving of candle power, he thought, more than enough for the whole village, if they could only manage to take it back with them to Rysdale. But, even if it were small enough, it wouldn't be possible to carry in one of their trunks, since it would be sure to set things on fire. This objection was made by Mrs. Quayle, and seemed reasonable enough.

"That is the most remarkable thing on earth," went on Leighton, heedless, in his excitement, of the frivolous comments of his companions. "I have often thought that sooner or later something like this would be discovered. It is impossible to estimate its value. Why, all the billions of dollars that there are in the world to-day could not pay for it at the present market prices."

The calm assurance with which this estimate was given shattered Miranda's pose of studied indifference.

"What is it?" he asked sharply.

"Radium!"

The silence that followed was eloquent of the mingled incredulity and delight with which so staggering an announcement was received. Leighton, fascinated with his subject, proceeded to explain things, much as if he were at home again in his laboratory, working out a particularly novel experiment, and expounding his various theories of physics. Of course, he had nothing but theory to go on, since he had never seen, heard of, or believed possible such a huge mass of radium as this that hung above them. And because it was so unbelievably huge, the others refused at first to take it for what he said it was. But he insisted that it could be nothing else. Radium it was--and with this as his basis of fact, he quickly built up an imposing theory that he used to explain more than one matter that before had puzzled them.

This immense globe of radium, he believed, in the first place, was the parent-body of all the infinitesimal particles of this remarkable substance that had recently been found in different parts of the world. The mysterious properties of radium, he said, were only dimly understood as yet by physicists who had experimented with it. Apparently it was a mineral; but as it revealed a constant and amazing activity, throwing out a force that so far had baffled analysis, there were those who held that it was a living, or, better yet, a life-giving substance. The existence of this immense body of radium here, in the center of the cave, explained, to the satisfaction of Leighton, much of the strange phenomena they had seen. Here, obviously, was the source of the soft, diffused light that had puzzled them ever since they passed through the Condor Gate; and it was to this center of energy that they must attribute the increase in buoyancy and physical well-being experienced the further they penetrated into this subterranean world. The peculiar growths, also, half vegetable, half mineral, that had given the appearance of groves and gardens to certain portions of the cave through which they traveled, were undoubtedly due to this marvelous force, occupying the same relative position towards subterranean life that the sun did to the outside world of nature. Moreover, Leighton firmly believed that the supremacy of radium as the life-giver in this cave, involved the existence, as they would discover, of other phenomena having still more subtle, even psychic, qualities. Narva grunted significantly at this observation, and Una confirmed the truth of it by relating how the floor of the court where they were standing had, only a short time before, reflected a series of pictures of events taking place in the outside cave, by means of which they had been able to follow Leighton's approach to the palace and watched the collision of his party with that of Raoul. It was through this peculiar photographic power of radium, indeed, that Sajipona could discover whatever was taking place in the remotest regions of her domain. This information did not surprise Leighton in the least. On the contrary, he appeared to take it as a matter of course, one of many marvels that might be expected in a land run, so to speak, by radium.

Absorbed in the discussion of these matters, no one noticed the entrance of Sajipona. The queen, coming from the apartment where she had left David and Raoul, was not in a hurry to make her presence known, and lingered long enough behind the others to enjoy the curiosity and wonder with which they were regarding the globe of light above them. She now advanced smilingly, addressing herself particularly to Leighton, whom she complimented for his shrewd guess as to the nature of the force pervading and governing the cave. Indian though she was, inheritor of a realm that, in all its customs and beliefs, was primitive, distant from the civilizations found elsewhere in the world to-day, she had heard and studied enough of Europe and America to be familiar with some of the momentous discoveries of modern science. Hence, she had been quick to grasp the fact that this subterranean sun, worshiped by her ancestors ages ago as the Life Giver--the God that, according to Indian legend, resided under Lake Guatavita--was nothing more nor less than an immense body of radium, the most precious substance known to man, the scarcity of which had led scientists to ransack the uttermost parts of the earth in the hope of adding to their store of it. Here it had always been, the one priceless possession of her people, enabling them to live apart, independent of the world that threatened at one time to exterminate them. How this radium had come there originally she could not tell. It was the result, doubtless, of hidden forces about which philosopher and scientist are as yet ignorant. Or, it might itself be the architect of the subterranean world whose extent and manifold marvels had amazed the explorers. By means of this radium force, as Una had told them, she was able to see what was happening in any part of the cave, even throughout that dark region lying beyond the Condor Gate--an incredible statement, as it appeared to Leighton. For they had been in this outer cave and discovered in it neither the light nor the warmth they had enjoyed on this side the Condor Gate. Hence, argued the savant, this outer cave appeared to lie entirely beyond the zone of radium influence. Sajipona smiled at Leighton's objection and asked him if nothing had occurred in the outer cave, while he was there, that he had been unable to explain. They had been through so many marvels in so short a time that the explorers looked at each other doubtfully. Mrs. Quayle answered for them.

"Yes, the terrible stone that pulled off my jewelry, and then dragged gold up from the lake outside--how was that done?" she asked, still smarting, apparently, from the indignities she had suffered.

"Oh, that was merely a powerful magnet that attracts gold instead of iron," explained Sajipona, as if such trifling matters were scarcely worthy to be ranked with the other marvels of the cave. "This magnet played a great part, centuries ago, in gathering together all the wealth of my ancestors from the Sacred Lake where it had been cast during the Feast of the Gilded Man. To-day it is never used because all the gold has been taken out of the lake. But--was there nothing else mysterious?"

"Caramba!" ejaculated Miranda, "I know! When we come in from the outside, all is open; we can come in and we can come out. And then, this little old woman is frighten, and I take her out. That is, I think I take her out. But the wall is shut, and we cannot see where it is. We are in prison. Who did that? There is no one there."

Sajipona laughed.