Part 77 (2/2)

The mingling of the light with the amethystine gloom had a very beautiful effect, as the former flashed from the surface of the walls and made the ice glitter; but Saxe had no eyes then for natural beauties. He could think of nothing but the flying lumps of ice, and, oddly enough, the remembrance of the horrible head which he had seen in the night now came strongly back.

But he went on, and, if not boldly, at any rate with a fixed determination to see the adventure to the end.

Saxe was able to penetrate farther this time, with the goat pattering on before him; and to show that there was no fancy in the matter, the light flashed from some broken fragments of ice lying close beside the rus.h.i.+ng stream. But though he held the lanthorn high above his head, he could see nothing, only the dim arch, the line of s.h.i.+ning water, and the pale stony floor.

Just ahead, though, the stream took a sudden bend round to the left, and the dry portion of the stone taking the same direction, Saxe went on, involuntarily raising his axe as if there might be danger round beyond that bend where the ice projected like a b.u.t.tress.

He was close upon it now, and, holding the light well up with his left hand, he was in the act of turning the corner, when something moved out of the darkness on the other side, and Saxe stood once more petrified with horror as the light fell upon the huge face he had seen in the night, but hideously distorted, and with the glowing bloodshot eyes within six inches of his own.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

MELCHIOR WAKES UP.

The boy's lips parted, but no words came; his arm was raised with its weapon, but he could not strike--only stand s.h.i.+vering; until, by a tremendous effort, he flung himself round and dashed back.

”Why, hallo, lad! what is it? Have you seen a ghost?”

Saxe tried to speak, but no words would come for a few moments.

”Yes--no,” he panted at last. ”Something dreadful--in there.”

Dale caught up the ice-axe which he had laid down while he was measuring, and turned to the guide.

”What is it likely to be, Melchior--a bear?”

”I cannot say, herr,” said the guide, whose countenance changed a little as he, too, caught up his ice-axe. ”But I should think not--in there.”

”No--not a bear,” panted Saxe. ”I saw it--last night. Horrible-- horrible.”

”Don't rave like a hysterical girl, my lad,” cried Dale, grasping Saxe's arm. ”Now, then: speak out--like a man. Is it the body of some poor creature dead?”

”No--no,” said Saxe, struggling to master himself, and now speaking calmly: ”I went to the fall to drink in the middle of the night, and I saw it there. It cast lumps of ice at me, and I saw it close to the lanthorn.”

”A wild beast?”

”No,” said Saxe, with a shudder.

”Come; you must not be scared like that, my lad. What was it?”

”I don't know; unless it is true that there are gnomes and kobolds, and this is one.”

”Well, then, boy--it is not true, and this is not one.”

”No--no: of course not,” said Saxe, who was now strung up. ”It must be a man.”

”Of course. What do you say, Melchior?”

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