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In The Mammoth Cave
by
“Did you hear anything?” asked Eldon, coming to her side, “don’t be frightened, love. It could not have been any one. You are nervous.”
The young wife’s cheek paled a little as she reminded him of a frightful dream she had before mentioned.
“Nonsense, dear, we are safe as long as my bank holds out. In a short while we will brave the world and be at least a nine days’ wonder.”
Hoping to persuade Minnie Dare to elope with him, after their colloquy on the balcony the night of the ball, and thereby escape her persecutor, the young man had not followed the cave party on the long route without first amply supplying his purse. Stephen had suggested the strategem they impulsively employed of temporarily disappearing into the black corridor opposite the Bottomless Pit, after throwing a heavy rock down the abyss to simulate a fall; and Stephen had mapped out for them the whole situation succeeding the supposed catastrophe. Thus far they had not lacked for comforts; and stolen visits in disguise to the upper regions had varied their solitude and given refreshing glimpses of sunlight.
“Eldon, I am sure I heard a noise!” again exclaimed the girl, clinging in terror to his arm.
To appease her, the two men went out and made search. All was as usual–unless, indeed, a shred of cloth adhering to a jagged rock had not been there before. Stephen soon after left the pair, unconscious that a dark shadow was following him into the upper world, there to vanish among the shadows.
For there is nothing hidden that shall not be revealed; and this well-guarded secret, known to only four persons, was trembling at its foundation. For her beloved father’s sake the young wife was willing to endure privation; for she reasoned that Hammond would have no motive for vengeance if she were supposed to be lost; that her death would end the mysterious power that threatened disgrace to Colonel Dare. Stephen was paid well to be on guard, and his report that he had more than once seen Hammond in the vicinity, made them exercise extreme caution and vigilance in going outside.
At first the spirit of unrest had drawn the baffled suitor to the scene, where he had driven the unwilling maiden to her death, for he had loved her as well as a selfish nature can love. Gradually there dawned upon his mind a suspicion somewhat akin to the truth. Rumors were afloat that Stephen made nightly visits to the cave, not with exploring parties, but alone. A young couple had been seen wandering over the hills in the moonlight. Superstition said it was the ghosts of the ill-fated lovers. But when Jason Hammond heard these things they startled him as if struck with an electric shock. He did not believe in ghosts. He resolved to watch. He, too, saw the figures at night. He saw them disappear behind the steep ledge that leads downward into the bowels of the earth. He drew his own conclusions.
If true, what should stay his vengeance against those who had thus duped him? He sought his opportunity, and cautiously followed the guide unto the very portals of the lovers’ retreat. He heard the voices he remembered but too well. He knew now where to strike. He knew, too, that fear of him kept Minnie Dare thus hidden, as in a grave. Aye, she feared disgrace for her father, and more than all, she feared his vengeance against her husband–for he did not doubt that they were married. Husband? As the word forced itself, the man ground his teeth in baffled rage and hate. He would take care that the dreaded vengeance should be swift and sure.
The path to the subterranean retreat was perilous to a stranger; but having gone once, he was sure he could go again. The way was even now familiar enough as far as the black avenue of Dan. Here the string, placed for the convenience of the lovers, would guide him, and if his plans should be upset, he could retreat into the other black opening leading to the Bottomless Pit, where he now knew the lost pair had plunged into Beersheba instead of into the chasm, the two landmarks being exactly opposite. He had not forgotten the guide’s account of these two unexplored regions where there was “nothing of interest to show tourists.” He began to see through the plot from the hour of the so-called tragedy. How easy, with the artful guide’s connivance, to cast a stone down the echoing ravine, then conceal themselves in the corridor close by, extinguish their torches, and await in silence the next coming of their assistant! He himself had been adroitly decoyed out of the way to steady the railing of the rickety bridge. The abrupt and narrow ledge had hidden them from view. The escape was easy. All was clear now, and the life of the man who had cheated him should pay the penalty. Should she continue to refuse his suit, she, too, must die. The should find their grave in the spot they loved so well. There would be none to tell the tale.