CHAPTER XVIII

UNDER THE STARS

Forrester and his enemies alike were for the moment paralysed by the horror of the tragic scene. Before they had recovered their wits, Beresford dashed up behind his friend, and cried to him to tear up the plank. Only one who had not seen the actual occurrence could have intervened at such a moment.

"Quick, man!" cried Beresford, amazed at the other's sluggishness.

Pulling himself together, Forrester stooped and helped Beresford to haul the plank to their own side of the ledge, leaving an impassable gap between them and their enemies. Only by swimming could they now be reached, and Forrester felt, with a return of his nausea, that the priest, after the object lesson he had just had, would recoil from so terrible a risk.

"Bring the plank back into the cavern," said Beresford. "There's no time to lose."

They hurried back. On hearing Forrester's shout, Beresford had descended the shaft with reckless speed, and hurried through the passage after him. When he gained the cavern pursuer and pursued had disappeared through the entrance. Dashing after them, he levelled the two negritos, now at last awaking from their torpor, with blows left and right. He said afterwards that it was monstrously unfair--like hitting children. Too late to witness the fate of the priest, he perceived what had escaped Forrester's over-wrought mind--that only the destruction of the bridge could save them from the Old Man's immediate vengeance. Whether it would result in their complete and final salvation was on the knees of the gods.

Returning to the cavern, they caught up the spears of the negritos, and carried them and the plank to their customary quarters at the further end. Of the Chinese prisoners, only Wing Wu and his cousin had enough spirit left to interest themselves in the extraordinary incidents of the past few minutes: the others had scarcely stirred in their sleep.

"Lie down, my lad," said Beresford kindly, as Wing Wu came to meet him, his eyes gleaming with a light not seen in them for many a day. "You will want all your strength. You shall know all about it, presently."

As he spoke, he reeled against Forrester, who caught him in his arms and lowered him gently to the floor.

"Decidedly groggy," he murmured with a haggard smile. "I'm sorry to be such a nuisance to you, old man. Give me a minute or two: then--by George! I shall talk!"

He closed his eyes, and lay for a while silent on his back, his panting nostrils telling how great had been the tax upon his weakened frame. By and by he looked up at Forrester, reclining near him.

"Thank Heaven, my brain is clear!" he began. "What an absurd thing one's body is! ... Now, they'll either rebuild the bridge and storm us, or do nothing, and starve us out. It depends on whether the Old Man can bear the thought of extinguishing us without using the Eye! Either way, we are doomed--unless we get out. That's as much as to say that we must get out at once. We must! And we must let our friends above know when to expect us Scribble a note to Mackenzie, then: we pop out of the chimney to-morrow night."

"Is it possible?" Forrester asked.

"You will manage it. If I am not mistaken, a few hours' work with the iron will pierce through to the surface. Only take the greatest care."

"And what then?"

"There you have me! I haven't an idea. But I am inclined to think that your canny, close Scot is ready for us, has his plan of campaign thoroughly mapped out. I trust him the more because he has told us nothing. Well, you mount first--I'm afraid that's inevitable----"

"Of course----"

"I follow when you give the word, and I think our two young Chinese friends here will be men enough to join us. We make four: Mackenzie will have Jackson and your shikari, I suppose; your cook is useless as a fighting man?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. He is rather a timorous creature."

"And my plucky little Tibetan--I'd be glad to think he might make one of us. But this is all guess-work: we can only be sure of six or seven. Obviously six or seven can't tackle two or three hundred well-fed Chinamen and some scores of negritos. Mackenzie has perhaps discovered the way down into the rift, and means us to slip off in the dark. Guess-work again! Let us leave all that. Take a good sleep; then tighten your belt, and ply that bit of iron to bore our passage. Please the Powers, we'll worm our way into God's air before twenty-four hours are up."

With no means of telling the time, Forrester slept brokenly, and was at work long before day had dawned above. To guard against danger from the falling earth, he got Wing Wu to demolish the sentry-box, and lay the material in gridiron pattern across the covering of the pit. Then, mounting into the chimney, he prised out the clay bit by bit, and afterwards the crumbling earth above it, cutting the hole to the shape of a narrow cone.

As the work progressed, the sound of running water grew more and more distinct. Forrester knew that if the bed of the stream were pierced, there would be a swift end to their tribulations. He could only hope for the best, and persevere. How long he worked he never knew; so much engrossed was he that he did not remember he had had no food. There was no sign of interruption. Beresford remained on guard in the outer cavern, listening for the footsteps of the Old Man's minions, the ministers of the Law of the Eye. But not a sound was heard from the direction of the lake. It seemed that the Old Man was content to bide his time.

It was a blissful moment when Forrester, thrusting the iron upwards into the earth, felt suddenly that there was no resistance. When he withdrew it, a thin slit of white light appeared at the apex of the cone. He had pierced the surface, and a great joy thrilled him, for he knew that he had not touched the stream. But he was instantly aware of a double danger. The hole, small as it was, might be seen. Even if it were not seen, a chance passer-by might tread upon it and break through. Would Fortune, he wondered, stand their friend? Nothing more, at any rate, could be risked while daylight lasted.

He descended, and hurried to give Beresford the great news. Beresford pressed his hand.

"To-night!" he said. "Now for these lads here."

Quietly, as though telling a tale, he informed the two young Chinamen of the bare fact that a way had been opened for them to the upper world.

"Will you join us?" he asked. "There are friends above. What may lie before us we cannot tell: we may have to fight for our lives. Will you take the risks?"

Wing Wu assented eagerly; free from the domination of the priests he was a different being. His cousin was less ready; on being shown the ladder, and the cross-bars rising one above another until they almost disappeared, he shook his head, declaring that he had no strength for the feat demanded. The others forbore to urge him.

"He will try when he sees the rest of us go up," Beresford remarked confidently. "Our plan is fixed? You mount first; at your signal we follow. You and I will take the negritos' spears. The only other weapons are the iron bar and the knife. Wing Wu can take the bar; the other man the knife. We wait only for darkness."

The period of waiting was trying to them all. Time after time Forrester went into the inner cavern, and peered up the perpendicular tunnel at the tiny streak of light. The elder Chinamen, dull-eyed and listless, merely wailed for food. The two negritos paced restlessly about the larger cavern, looking again and again through the entrance towards the farther end of the ledge, now silent and deserted. More than once Forrester went to the cleft to see whether his last message had been drawn up; but the bone remained where he had laid it. This added tenfold to their anxiety, for without the co-operation of their friends they would be like men lost in a wilderness. The chimney, indeed, penetrated to the open air, not to a roofed chamber; but at what spot, whether in an unenclosed field, or in a walled garden or courtyard, they had no means of telling. Without a guide, they might as well be in Minos' labyrinth. One consideration, however, prevailed over all others: to remain below was to starve; above ground, they could at least die fighting.

At last it seemed to Forrester that the streak above was becoming fainter. He stared upwards, until convinced beyond doubt that the shades of evening were falling. Quickly the light faded. All was dark.

He rushed to the cavern to tell Beresford, then hurried back, mounted the scaffolding, and with his spear slightly enlarged the hole at the top. The gurgle of water struck more loudly upon his ear. A footfall startled him, and he held his hand in sickening dread that the fatal discovery was made. The sound passed and died away, but the scare made him defer further work until later, when he might suppose the enemy were sound asleep.

When every minute seemed an hour, it was impossible to gauge the flight of time. But, all allowances being made for their impatience, Beresford judged that three or four hours had passed before he suggested that it was now safe to resume operations. Once more Forrester scraped away at the hole. The glimmer of stars lent him encouragement and hope. Inch by inch the earth fell away; he pushed his hand through; at last, in quivering suspense, his head. He drew in great gulps of the sweet air, that was like champagne to him after the noisome atmosphere below. And with eager eyes, little above the level of the ground, he looked about him.

It was very dark; only a faint shine from the stars thinned the blackness. Almost at once he became aware that while the view before him was unobstructed, it was shut out behind by a mound of earth. From beyond this he heard the slow wash of the stream, and he gasped with thankfulness that the iron had escaped the channel, apparently by inches.

Nothing was in sight but the dark shapes of bushes, arbours, and the pile of buildings beyond. He was holding himself rigid, listening for sounds, wondering what he must do, when a slight, slow hiss struck upon his ear. Was it merely the rustle of the breeze? It came again. His message had not been received; no friend, it seemed, could be awaiting him; if the sound were human, could it proceed from anyone but an enemy?

He waited, tense, watchful, scarcely breathing. Then he started, for a few yards away, at the base of the embankment, a dark shape was stirring. Instinctively he tightened his clutch upon the spear, though he knew that with only his head above ground he could do nothing to defend himself. His one precaution was to sink down until only his eyes and scalp were above the surface.

He could not yet distinguish whether the form was that of an animal or of a man. It lifted itself, became gradually erect, and moved very slowly, almost imperceptibly, towards him. Then he began to recognise something familiar and friendly in the shape; he raised his head a little; a rush of hot blood made him dizzy; and he almost swooned with unspeakable joy and thankfulness when he heard a whisper in old Mac's well-known voice.

"Dick!"

"Be careful!" Forrester murmured anxiously. "Don't come too near. Your weight may break through."

"Now, quick! How many do you muster?"

"Beresford and two Chinamen. There are others--helpless."

"So! Bring up the able-bodied, and make for yon summer-house; you see!--a yard or two away. Wait for me there."

Mackenzie crept silently away: he never wasted words. Not till afterwards did Forrester learn how the patient Scotsman had prowled about the grounds nightly in order to guard against the contingency that had actually happened--the sudden appearance of the prisoners above ground. Hamid Gul had accidentally dropped the string down the grating when trying to tie it to a bar, and having no more to spare, could neither send nor receive a message.

Forrester withdrew his head, and set to work to enlarge the hole for the passage of his shoulders. It was an unexpectedly slow process. He dared not hack vigorously for fear of bringing a mass of earth tumbling in upon him, or of piercing the embankment and letting down a deluge. But he picked away patiently until the gap was large enough to scramble through.

Then he gave the long-awaited word, and heaved himself to the surface. In spite of his care, a chunk of earth broke from the edge and fell down the chimney, breaking and scattering on the bamboos laid across the slab. Beresford waited a moment or two; then he mounted, without accident, and after him Wing Wu. The three men crouched near the hole, waiting for Chung Tong to appear. It seemed that he would never come. Time was flying; the dawn could not be far off. Presently they heard an ascending scale of sighs as the Chinaman, pricked by fear of loneliness to follow them, climbed the bars one by one, each upward move accompanied with a sigh. When his head emerged, Forrester and Beresford caught his shoulders, and heaved him through, not without disturbing clods that fell with ominous thuds, just audible, on the screen.

Forrester lead the way stealthily to the summer-house indicated by Mackenzie. There Mackenzie and Jackson, with Hamid Gul, were awaiting them. For a few moments speechless greetings passed between the reunited friends; their hearts were full; feeling was too intense to find expression in word. When Mackenzie at last spoke, there was an unusual huskiness in his tones.

"Come now, listen, all of you. We are in a garden; there's a seven-foot wall around it. Beyond the wall is a larger enclosure. That's where the buildings are. Dick, you and I are going through Hamid's quarters and the kitchen into the pagoda. We are going to collar the Eye!"

A thrill shook them all.

"Hamid knows where it is. If we canna do it, we capture the Old Man, and hold him as a hostage. There's a sentry in the antechamber leading to his apartments. There's another at the principal outer door, which opens to the enclosure yonder. They're likely fast asleep. We'll no meddle with the man at the principal door. The other--we'll have to deal with him. If there's an alarm, the rest of ye just bolt for yon door, and do your best to hold it against the priests. If the sentry has gone inside, one or two of ye follow him up. You've got arms of a sort: you can change 'em for the two-three things we've brought if you like 'em better. It's touch and go, ye ken. We must be swift and sure. We canna fight hundreds; but with yon old de'il's Eye in our possession, we can defy him and his priests too. Bob, you'll be in charge here, and this gentleman--Mr. Beresford, I presume--will likely give you every assistance."

"You may be sure of that," said Beresford.

"Well, that's all. We'll shed our boots. Then, Hamid, lead the way."

Mackenzie took a hoe from a bench; Hamid was armed with a kitchen chopper. They went out, followed by Forrester with his spear. Stealthily crossing the garden, they scaled the wall, dropped lightly on to the grass, and crept across to the door of Hamid's quarters. From this they passed into the kitchen, and thence into the passage.

At the further end was a door on which was a huge lock. But, as Hamid had noticed on his daily visits to the inner apartments, the lock had long since fallen into disrepair, and been replaced by a single latch worked from the inside--eloquent testimony to the fear inspired by the Eye. The point of Forrester's spear, passed through the space between the door and the side-post, sufficed to raise the latch. Mackenzie cautiously pushed the door open, not without a slight creaking, and signed to Hamid to pass through before him.

The cook, nerved by the presence of the sahibs, led them into a corridor dimly lit by small oriental lamps. On bare feet they stole along by the wall, towards the door at the further end. A priest was squatting there, with knees up, and head down bent. Mackenzie drew from his pocket a woollen pad--it had been borrowed from his blanket--and two or three short pieces of cord. These he handed to Forrester with a significant look. Then, stealing forward in advance of Hamid, he crept up to the dozing sentry, and with a sudden swoop clutched him round the throat before he had time to utter a sound. Forrester, just behind, stooped and thrust the gag into his gaping jaws. They turned him face downwards, and a few rapid twists of the cord left him trussed like a fowl at the doorway.

Stepping over him, they pushed the door gently. Mackenzie peeped round its edge. The ante-chamber within was empty. Through this they tiptoed. The door at the further end yielded to their touch, and they passed into a second ante-chamber, lit by more lamps than the first. A slight but prolonged creak as the door opened came near to being their undoing, for thirty feet ahead, at the entrance to the Old Man's apartment, sat a second sentry, whom Mackenzie had not allowed for; and the sound roused him from his slumber. He rose lazily, without any sign of alarm, expecting vaguely, perhaps, that his colleague without was coming to pass an hour with him. But Mackenzie realised that nothing but extreme quickness could save the situation, and even as he darted forward to tackle the man, the latter let out a loud shout of alarm. It was his first and last cry. Mackenzie drove at him with the full strength of muscles hardened by weeks of spade work, and he fell like a log.

Meanwhile Hamid, with Forrester close at heel, had run on into the inner chamber--the sanctum in which the Old Man of the Mountain slept, ate, and meditated on the Law of the Eye. Like all old men, he was a light sleeper. His functionary's cry had awakened him, and as the two men burst in, they saw his thin, wizened, almost ghoulish frame half risen from his golden couch. The lamplight fell upon his blazing eyes, wide with wonder, resentment and, when he caught sight of Forrester, fury. Hamid shrank before his paralysing glare, retaining enough presence of mind, however, to lift his trembling arm and point to the golden lattice behind which the fantastic head-dress reposed in its recess, illuminated by its own special lamp.

The Old Man observed the movement. His expression changed; it might have been said that terror spoke for the nonce from that cold, mask-like countenance. With agility amazing in so decrepit a figure he leapt from his couch, and darted towards the sacred recess. But Forrester was too quick for him. He sprang to the wall, turned his back so as to cover the lattice completely, and raised his spear to meet the expected attack.

For one moment the Old Man glared upon him with eyes that cut like knives. Then, with a sudden swift movement that took Forrester utterly by surprise, he sprang towards a richly gilded hanging that covered the adjacent wall. Forrester wrenched open the lattice, seized the head-dress to make sure of it, and, oblivious for the moment that his incautious handling of it might shiver him to dust, darted after the retreating figure. The hanging swung aside, closing immediately behind the Chinaman. Forrester heard a slight click, and when he drew the curtain aside, was confronted with nothing but a bare wainscoting of panelled wood. The Old Man was gone.