SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 265 | Next

Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Benita, an African romance"


What could she do that would give them warning? A thought came to her.
Taking one of the tent ropes and the lantern, for her father still slept
heavily, she went down to the entrance of the cave, and at the end of
the last zigzag where once a door had been, managed to make it fast to a
stone hinge about eighteen inches above the floor, and on the other side
to an eye opposite that was cut in the solid rock to receive a bolt of
wood or iron. Meyer, she knew, had no lamps or oil, only matches and
perhaps a few candles. Therefore if he tried to enter the cave it was
probable that he would trip over the rope and thus give them warning.
Then she went back, washed her face and hands with some water that they
had drawn on the previous night to satisfy their thirst, and tidied
herself as best she could. This done, as her father still slept, she
filled the lamps, lit one of them, and looked about her, for she was
loth to wake him.
Truly it was an awful place in which to dwell. There above them towered
the great white crucifix; there in the corner were piled the remains of
the Portuguese. A skull with long hair still hanging to it grinned at
her, a withered hand was thrust forward as though to clutch her. Oh, no
wonder that in such a spot Jacob Meyer had seen ghosts! In front, too,
was the yawning grave where they had found the monk; indeed, his bones
wrapped in dark robes still lay within, for Jacob had tumbled them back
again.


Pages:
253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277