The Coming of the King Part 22

"No," I replied. "Whither you go I will go. And I shall not loose my hold upon you till I see daylight."

He looked at me savagely, and lifted his left hand, in which he held a candlestick, as if to strike me. Then the angry looked pa.s.sed away, and I saw the cunning leer come in his eyes again.

"A good boy, a brave boy," he said coaxingly. "Ah, we are friends. I cannot do without him, neither can he do without me. Youth and age, strength and wisdom together, what can withstand it?"

He led the way along the tunnel, which I followed, still holding him fast. How far we went I could not calculate, for although the time seemed long, it might only in reality have been short. At length, however, we came to a broad place, such as I have been told miners make underground when digging for mineral.

"The time and the place, Master Roland," he said; "now let us search."

He held up the candle, and I saw that all around me were dark roads leading from the cavern where we stood. Whither they went I knew not. I seemed like a man standing on a place where many cross roads met, only we were in the bowels of the earth, and the roads seemed to lead only into greater darkness.

"A grand place to bury a secret, eh? Anything would be safe here, eh?

But there is nothing hidden that shall not be revealed. There is nothing done in silence but shall be proclaimed on the housetops."

He placed the candle in my hand, and then began to peer cautiously around the sides of the cavern.

"Ah!" he said at length. "You wanted to see, and you shall see. Lucy married Prince Charles--no, King Charles--and Lucy gave the contract to the priest, and the priest gave it to old Father Solomon, and old Solomon waited--waited till his dream should be fulfilled. Do you know this place, Master Roland? Once upon a time miners digged here for gold.

Oh, it was ages ago. Whoever dreamed of gold being found five miles from Folkestone? They dug, and dug, and dug! They are dead, but their work lives. Fancy those old men digging here ages ago. But they left a grand hiding-place. Only one man knows the secret of these caverns. I, old Solomon. The man who is left alone here never sees the light again. Ha, ha! But it is a fine place to die!"

Presently he seemed to have discovered the place he sought, and then he took the candle from my hand. I saw a dark hole in the side of the cavern, into which he put his hand, and from which he drew a black box.

"You wanted to see it, and you shall see it," he said. Then he pressed a spring in the box, and the lid flew open.

"Read! Read!" he cried.

I saw a piece of parchment which was emblazoned with a rude tracing of the Lion and the Unicorn. This he took, and with trembling fingers unfolded it.

"Read! Read!" he cried again.

It was written in French, but in such a crude fas.h.i.+on as to make it difficult to read. But I saw these words--"Marriage Contract between Charles Stuart, King of England and Scotland, and Lucy Walters, of Ros Martat, in the County of Pembroke, Wales, daughter of Richard Walters."

After this there were many lines which seemed to be meaningless, but at the bottom of the page I saw writing by other hands. I saw the words--

"Charles Stuart, By the Grace of G.o.d King of England and Scotland.

"Lucy Walters.

"Pierre Rousseau.

"Francois Abelard."

I saw, too, that Pierre Rousseau was stated to be a priest of the Roman Catholic Church who had performed the sacrament of marriage, and that Francois Abelard, a brother of the Benedictine Order, had witnessed thereto.

"There, you have seen it; now let me put it away."

"No," I replied, "let me read it again; I would commit the writing to memory."

He paid no heed to me, however, and before I well knew what he was doing he had struck the paper from my hands. The box closed with a snap, and he placed it in its hiding-place again.

"You have seen," he cried. "Oh, it is rare fun. Now, then, you must swear to what I dictate, or you will never again see the light of the sun."

"Swear what?" I cried, for I felt angry with myself for having allowed him to put the thing back into its hiding-place.

"You must swear that you will obey me in all that appertains to this."

"That was not in our bargain," I cried.

"But it must be," he cried. "Swear, or you die."

"No," I said, "I will not. And do not think to frighten me. I will keep to my bargain faithfully, but if you in aught do fail on your part, then will I come hither alone, and I will act without you."

"Ah!" he cried, and there was a fearsome look in his eyes. "You defy me, eh?"

"Yes, I defy you!" I cried, for the sight of the parchment had set my blood on fire.

We had moved away a few steps from the place where he had put the black box, but I kept my eye on the spot, so that I might know it again.

"Ah, we must be friends," he said wheedlingly. "Come, my son, I have more to tell you."

I followed him a few steps, and then again I looked back over my shoulder to mark the place where the precious doc.u.ment was hidden; but this, as will be seen, led to my undoing, for no sooner did he note my action than with a sudden wrench he leapt from me, and blowing out the candle he left me in utter darkness.

I stretched out my hands to grasp him, but he was gone. I stopped and listened to catch the sound of his retreating footsteps, but could hear nothing to guide me, for the place seemed to be full of the sound of footsteps, now coming from one direction, and now from another.

Moreover, he wore cloth-soled shoes, which made but little noise, so that I was utterly unable to locate him. Presently I thought I heard him cackling, as I had heard him more than once before when he was well pleased with himself. Without an instant's delay I rushed to the spot from whence I thought the sound came, but only to strike my head with a terrible thud against the rocky side of the cavern.

What happened after that I do not know. I have a vague remembrance of falling to the ground, and then rising and staggering away in the darkness, but whether this was only fancy or fact it is not for me to say, seeing that nothing was clear to me.

Presently, when I awoke to consciousness, I found myself lying in the darkness. Not a ray of light came to me anywhere, neither did I possess any means of kindling one. My head ached, and my whole body was racked with pain. How long I had lain there I knew not, neither was I able to calculate. All I knew was that I was in as sad a plight as any man could be. But I determined not to give up hope. If there was a way into this place there must also be a way out, and so I set to work to try and find out my whereabouts. I was not long before I touched the side of the cavern, close to which I groped until I came to an opening.

"This will lead back to the house," I reflected, and buoyed up with this hope, and keeping my hand by the side of the tunnel, I followed its windings for some distance, only to come to a sudden stop, for I found that the place ended here. I therefore returned again, determining to enter each level in turn until I should again find my way back to the man whose wits had been keener than my own.

The second tunnel was shorter than the first, and ended in the same way, so again I returned to the large cavern, and keeping ever to the right hand, so as not to enter any one of them more than once, I again groped along in the darkness.

Even then I tried to find the place into which the old man had put the black box, but in this I was unsuccessful. Had I a light, I felt sure I could have found it, for I had marked the place carefully; but, as I have said, I was in utter darkness, neither had I means of obtaining light.

After a time I was wellnigh despairing, and I felt sure that old Solomon intended the place to be my grave. The more I tried to find my way out, the more confused I became. Still I was young and strong, and youth does not for long give way to hopelessness.

Of the thoughts which pa.s.sed through my mind, or of the plans I made, as well as of the schemes of vengeance I meditated upon I will not speak, for while they were doubtless natural, they had so little of sense in them that they are not worth recording. Only one plan, indeed, promised aught, and that was to lie still until old Solomon came to seek me, as I felt sure his curiosity would compel him to do. But that was given up, for, as I reflected, it would be terrible to lie there in the cold and in the darkness; besides, he would doubtless wait until lack of food had so weakened me that he would be able to work his will on me.

I therefore continued to examine each level or tunnel in turn, and in this I had to manifest great care, for there were many pitfalls which might easily lead to a man's death. How long I remained in the darkness I know not, neither for that matter do I care to dwell upon the endeavours I made while there to find my way to the light, for even now, after the lapse of years, I shudder to think of my sufferings during that terrible time. For if there is one thing harder than another to bear, it is to be alone in black darkness such as I was. I have faced death more than once, I have experienced imprisonment in a noisome evil-smelling cell, I have had to stand face to face with dread alternatives; but at no time do I remember such utter despair as I felt then. And this any man who hath imagination can easily believe. For I had no other prospect than a slow death amidst darkness and loneliness.

Could I have heard human voice, I do not think I should have minded so much; but nothing could I hear save the echo of my own sighs, while the darkness was so great that it could be felt.

Moreover, I presently grew faint and weak. I needed food sadly, while even worse than hunger was the thirst that presently gat hold of me. My body grew stone cold, and yet my throat became parched and burnt.

"This must be h.e.l.l," I thought to myself. "I am become like the rich man in the New Testament--ay, I am worse than he, for I cannot see one afar off to whom I can cry."

Presently, however, in spite of my suffering I fell asleep, and when I awoke I felt better. My head ceased to ache, and although I felt very weak my tongue had become cool again.

"Thank G.o.d," I cried out in my joy. "O, great Lord, who didst suffer for the sins of the world, be pleased to help me in my dire distress."

But no answer came to my prayer: only silence, a great and terrible silence, filled the place. Nevertheless, my prayer gave me hope. If G.o.d lived, I reflected, I was in His keeping here in the bowels of the earth as truly as if I was aboveground. This feeling put new heart into me, and I determined to make another effort.