The pole he had brought had a hook at the end, bound firmly in place
with copper wire. This was an excellent provision, especially when he
came to the cliff, where wading was out of the question. He was thus
enabled to catch at a ledge, or any open crevice, and draw his unwieldy
float along, while fending it off from various rocks on which it might
otherwise have pounded.
His work was hard and slow. The distance was not discouraging,
however, and with some of the swirls to assist, here and there, he
finally came to a broken sort of cape, from which he readily saw his
dangling ladder. After that a hot bit of fighting was required to
maintain his position near the wall. The tide was uneasy--a hungry,
ugly swirl that alternately came and subsided.
When he passed it at last his task was done, for the cave was a stone's
toss away. It was not even then to be seen, and its presence in the
cliff would scarcely have been suspected. But Grenville knew the
luxuriant plant that grew across a portion of its entrance. When he
presently moored his raft to a rock fairly under the shadow of the
weed, the cave was just above him.
Under his feet the ledge was rough and sloping. It was pitted so
completely as to form a rude natural stairway to the opening under the
overhanging shelf. This mouth to the cavern was hardly six feet wide
and not more than four in height. Its access was comparatively easy.
Grenville, with his torch in hand, was presently gazing within.
Obliged to stoop, and beholding nothing but absolute darkness ahead of
his light, he stumbled against a lumpy vein of rock--and nearly met
with disaster. He barely halted at the edge of a pool of ebon water.
After all his effort to gain the cave, it appeared to be filled with
this inklike accumulation. The pool was absolutely still. Not a
ripple disturbed its shining surface. How deep it was and how far it
extended from the ledge that held it from flowing into the sea, could
not be gauged by Grenville's torch, as he held it aloft to stare at the
wall of velvet gloom.
He sounded a note that rolled about and reverberated weirdly. But he
could not determine from the echoes how far the waves had traveled.
Casting his dull-red illumination to the left, and lower down, he
proceeded a little along the ledge, till it merged in an upright wall.
There was nothing at all to be seen in this direction save water and
rock, that faded away into Stygian darkness beyond.
He retraced his steps and explored the ledge on the right. This led
him considerably further than the first had done before it was
similarly ended. He was then aware the cavern was of no inconsiderable
dimensions, at least with regard to its width. He raised his eyes
towards the ceiling, where nothing was to be seen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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