Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 137.djvu/820

814 trails of hanging plants seemed to quiver in the flood of silver; and the points of rock, the accidents of formation, were much more distinctly seen now than they had been seen then. This new distinctness added to the terror of the place; it was like scanning the bare fangs in the widely opened jaws of some monster of unearthly size.

Gretchen bent forward, intently staring into the depth; then, raising her eyes, she started, for there opposite to her were the figures of Mr Howard and the Bohemian, both leaning forward, and peering down, as she had been doing.

Mr Howard appeared to be no less surprised at seeing her than she felt at seeing him. Before either of them had spoken, there appeared another figure on the scene. It was Kurt.

What horrible coincidence of idea was this? thought Gretchen, with a fresh shudder. There was another half-guilty start, and then everybody began talking at once, doing their best to explain that they had come here by the merest chance, and becoming very eloquent about the great facility with which people go astray in woods, and often wander about for hours in a circle, thus exhausting their own breath and their friends' patience. Examples were quoted and anecdotes told, mazes and labyrinths were talked of; in fact, everything which could prolong the conversation was laid hold of – for they were all as loquacious now as they had before been silent. They dreaded the first pause almost more than a little time ago they had dreaded the first word. Had not Dr Komers missed his way once already this evening? It was quite natural that he should have missed it again. They all knew how short-sighted he was; but even in saying it, they recognised that this last argument was one which cut both ways. And then, unconsciously narrowing their circle, they argued that it would be ridiculous to suppose that a sensible man like Dr Komers – who had, moreover, been instructed as to the meaning of the signal – could by any possibility have stumbled over the edge. An ignorant person, to hear them talk, would have supposed Dr Komers to be possessed of as many eyes as Argus, and Gaura Dracului to be a roadside ditch into which it would be scarcely unpleasant to stumble. It was quite clear that the lawyer must merely have lost his way. And again they took to shouting, and to searching the wood around, hoisting up the lantern on a long stick and waving it as a beacon-light.

Their arguments were of the most convincing kind; and yet, at the end of another long half-hour, everybody was again standing round the hole, looking down with a fearful question in their eyes at the blackness below. Useless scrutiny! That hole is dumb and pitiless. It is unchanged, immovable, expressionless as before. No good in putting the dread question – Did a man pass this way? Did he fall down there – down, down out of sight? Is this the only grave he will ever have? The monster will give no answer. Truly those who go down there do not come back to tell us any stories. Perhaps the ivy-leaves, rustling faintly in this breath of air, are whispering to each other about what they have seen happen in this last hour; but it is in a language which human ears cannot understand. Human beings are so helpless in a case like this. Even that noiseless bat, taking a sweep downwards into the abyss, and up