Part 22 (2/2)

”The sea pours into that ravine, and then at high water empties into a hole in the earth that penetrates n.o.body knows how deeply into the bowels of the island,” said Jarrold.

”Has n.o.body ever explored it?” asked c.u.mmings, unconsciously sinking his voice.

”Yes, some explorers fitted up a boat once and announced that they were going to enter the ravine, and thence penetrate into the unexplored cavern where the waters disappear,” was the reply.

”And what did they find?” asked c.u.mmings.

”Well, they never came back to tell,” rejoined Jarrold, with grim jocularity.

He brought the car to a sudden stop. A sheer wall of rock shot up before them. It was the end of the giant cleft in the earth. There were steps cut in the forbidding acclivity and on a platform far above were traces of ruined buildings.

”That's what is left of the old Don's castle, up there yonder,” said Jarrold, pointing.

”And the Lion's Mouth is up there?” asked c.u.mmings.

Jarrold nodded.

”That's the place,” he said.

CHAPTER XXVII

IN THE LION'S MOUTH

Jack came to himself lying on a rocky couch. For a few moments his brain refused to work. He did not comprehend where he was or what had happened. He felt stiff and sore and his head ached intolerably.

Then memory came back with a rush. He recalled the darkened hut where he had drunk the supposedly innocent cola and then, but very vaguely, the sensation of being placed in a rig and experiencing a desire to call for help without being able to raise his voice.

But where was he now?

He looked about him. He lay at the bottom of a steep walled pit, apparently hewn by man or nature out of the solid rock. The walls shot up sheer and smooth to a height of at least thirty feet. The bottom of this pit was about forty or fifty feet in circ.u.mference.

Beside him was a big canteen of water and some food. He noticed something around his shoulders, something that pa.s.sed under his armpits.

It was a rope about forty feet long. So, then, he had been lowered into this pit by somebody. But by whom?

His mind reverted to c.u.mmings. Jack was tolerably certain now that he had been drugged by his crafty enemy, but he could not bring himself to believe that c.u.mmings' mind had plotted the bold stroke by which he had been marooned in this pit. Some master wit had contrived that.

Jack's head swam as he began to sense the full horror of his situation.

He did not even know how long he had been there. He looked at his watch.

The hands pointed to three o'clock. He had wound the watch in the morning, so it was clear that it was the same day as the one on which he had entered Mother Jenny's place with c.u.mmings.

He rose dizzily to his feet and, steadying himself with one hand against the rock walls, looked about him with greater minuteness. Far above was the blue dome of the sky and at the top of those walls lay freedom. But he might as well have been in China for all the good it did him. He was cut off from his friends as effectually as if on the other side of the globe.

Naturally, too, he had not the slightest idea on what part of the island the pit was located. There was nothing to indicate where it was. Jack was not a lad who easily lost heart, but his present position was almost unbearable.

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