Page:Weird Tales Volume 09 Issue 02 (1927-02).djvu/66

 any ever conceived by your wildest romancer, who, after all, Bill, is a pretty tame homo."

"I have an idea," I said, glancing down the cavern, "that we are going to find the homos here in this place anything but tame."

Milton laughed and, without any other answer, turned and resumed the descent.

For one thing I was profoundly thankful: the wall ran along without any pronounced cavities or project ions in it, so that we had little to apprehend from a sudden attack on this our giddy way—except, of course, by a demon. Had the wall been a broken one, any instant might have found us face to face with a band of Hypogeans, as Rhodes called the denizens of this subterranean place.

But how long would the wall remain like that? And, after all, did it really greatly matter? Meeting, sooner or later, was inevitable. 'Tis true, I could not conceive of a worse place than this, supposing the meeting to be, in any measure, an unfriendly one. And, from what had happened up there at the Tamahnowis Rocks, I could not suppose that it would be anything else.

This, however, was to prove simply another instance of how inadequate the imagination, when confronted with the reality, is sometimes found to be, for even now we were drawing near a place more terrible even than this—and that was the place where we met!

It required but little imagination, though, to make us aware, and painfully so, of the extreme probability (regarded by ourselves as a certitude) that eyes were watching our every movement. But where were those eyes? And what were the watchers? To what fearful thing—or could it be wonderful?—were we drawing near at every single moment now?

Some minutes passed, perhaps fifteen, perhaps more; I can not say how long it was. Of a sudden, however, Rhodes, who was still leading the way, stopped. No. sound had escaped him, and he stood there like a statue, peering intently straight ahead.

"Look there," he said in a low voice, pointing with his alpenstock, "and tell me what you see."

I was already looking, and already I had seen it. But what on earth was that thing which I saw?

I remained silent, gazing with straining eyes and wondering if I really saw what I thought that I did.

"What," asked Rhodes, "do you make of it?"

"The thing is so faint. 'Tis impossible, and yet, if it were not so, I would say that it is an arch—part of a bridge."

"Just what I thought. The thing is so strange, though, that I didn't know whether to believe my eyes or not."

"And so dim," I observed, "that it may be nothing of the kind. A bridge? Now, who on earth would build a bridge across this frightful chasm? And why?"

"Quién sabe, Bill?" said Milton Rhodes.

The next moment we were moving toward it.

"Look!" ejaculated Rhodes suddenly. "It goes clear across!"

"Yes," I said, stopping and gazing at that strange dim mass; "it goes clear across. And that's the place, over there on the other side—that's where they are waiting for us!"

be a bit surprized," said Milton. "And a strange bridge, that, truly. It looks like a ruin, a ruin that has not fallen."