Part 11 (1/2)
This exhortation seemed to have some effect. The man stirred slightly, and emitted a sigh. Presently he muttered, ”I can--lick him--yet!”
”He will live, princess,” remarked Kamaiakan. ”But where is the treasure?”
”My treasure is here!” was her reply; and again she bent to kiss the half-conscious man, who knew not of his good fortune. After an interval she added, ”It is in the hollow beneath that archway. Go down three paces: on the wall at the left you will feel a ring. Pull it outwards, and the stone will give way. Behind it lies the chest in which the jewels are. But remember your promise!”
Kamaiakan peered into the hollow, shook his head as one who loves not his errand, and stepped in. The black shadow swallowed him up. Semitzin paid no further attention to him, but was absorbed in ministering to her patient, whose strength was every moment being augmented, though he was not yet aware of his position. But all at once a choking sound came from within the cave, and in a few moments Kamaiakan staggered up out of the shadow, and sank down across the threshold of the arch.
”Semitzin,” he gasped, in a faint voice, ”the curse of the G.o.ds is upon the spot! The air within is poisonous. It withers the limbs and stops the breath. No one may touch the treasure and live. Let us go!”
”The G.o.ds do not love those who fear,” replied the princess, contemptuously. ”But the treasure is mine, and it may well be that no other hand may touch it. Fold that blanket, and lay it beneath his head.
I will bring the jewels.”
”Do not attempt it: it will be death!” exclaimed the old man.
”Shall a princess come to her lover empty-handed? Do you watch beside him while I go. Ah, if your Miriam were here, I would not fear to have him choose between us!”
With these words, Semitzin stepped across the threshold of the crypt, and vanished in its depths. The Indian, still dizzy and faint, knelt on the rock without, bowed down by sinister forebodings.
Several minutes pa.s.sed. ”She has perished!” muttered Kamaiakan.
Freeman raised himself on one elbow, and gazed giddily about him. ”What the deuce has happened?” he demanded, in a sluggish voice. ”Is that you, professor?”
Suddenly, a rending and rus.h.i.+ng sound burst from the cave. Following it, Semitzin appeared at the entrance, dragging a heavy metal box, which she grasped by a handle at one end. Immediately in her steps broke forth a great volume of water, boiling up as if from a caldron. It filled the cave, and poured like a cataract into the gorge. The foundations of the great deep seemed to be let loose.
Semitzin lifted from her face the woollen mask, or visor, which she had closed on entering the cave. She was panting from exertion, but neither her physical nor her mental faculties were abated. She spoke sharply and imperiously:
”Bring up the mule, and help me fasten the chest upon him. We must reach higher ground before the waters overtake us. And now----” She turned to Freeman, who by this time was sitting up and regarding her with stupefaction.
”Miriam!” was all he could utter.
She shook her head, and smiled. ”I am she who loves you, and whom you will love. I give you life, and fortune, and myself. But come: can you mount and ride?”
”I can't make this out,” he said, struggling, with her a.s.sistance, to his feet. ”I have read fairy-tales, but this... Kamaiakan, too!”
Semitzin, meanwhile, brought him to the mule, and half mechanically he scrambled into the saddle, the chest being made fast to the crupper.
Semitzin seized the bridle, and started up the gorge, Kamaiakan bringing up the rear. The lower levels were already filling with water, which came pouring out through the archway in a full flood, seemingly inexhaustible.
”I see how it is,” mumbled Freeman, half to himself. ”The earthquake--I remember! I got hit somehow. They came from the ranch to hunt me up. But where are the general and Professor Meschines? How long ago was it?
And how came Miriam... Could the mirage have had anything to do with it?--Here, let me walk,” he called out to her, ”and you get up and ride.”
She turned her head, smiling again, but hurried on without speaking.
The roar of the torrent followed them. Once or twice the mule came near losing his footing. Freeman, whose head was swimming, and his brains buzzing like a hive of bees, had all he could do to maintain his equilibrium in the saddle. He was excruciatingly thirsty, and the gurgling of waters round about made him wish he might dismount and plunge into them. But he lacked power to form a decided purpose, and permitted the more energetic will to control him. It might have been minutes, or it might have been hours, for all he knew: at last they halted, near the base of the white pyramid.
”Here we are safe,” said Semitzin, coming to his side. ”Lean on me, my love, and I will lift you down.”
”Oh, I'm not quite so bad as that, you know,” said Freeman, with a feeble laugh; and, to prove it, he blundered off the saddle, and came down on the ground with a thwack. He picked himself up, however, and recollecting that he had a flask with brandy in it, he felt for it, found it intact, and, with an inarticulate murmur of apology, raised it to his lips. It was like the veritable elixir of life: never in his life before had Freeman quaffed so deep a draught of the fiery spirit. It was just what he wanted.
But he felt oddly embarra.s.sed. He did not know what to make of Miriam.
It was not her strange costume merely, but she seemed to have put on--or put off--something with it that made a difference in her. She was a.s.sertive, imperious; as loving, certainly, as lover could wish, but not in the manner of the Miriam he knew. He might have liked the new Miriam better, had he not previously fallen in love with the former one. He could not make advances to her: he had no opportunity to do so: she was making advances to him!