She clapped her hands at my astonishment. "You like my bower?" she
asked gleefully. "Ah, but wait, and I will show you wonders! No one
knows of it, not even Rosa."
She wriggled her way through the cleft. I peered in, and went after
her cautiously, expecting, as the curtain of creepers fell behind me,
to find myself in a dark cave or grotto. Dark it was, to be sure,
but not utterly dark; and to my amazement, as my eyes grew accustomed
to the gloom, the faint light came from ahead of me and seemed to
strike upwards from the bowels of the earth.
"Do not be afraid, little boy! But hold your head low; and look to
your feet now, for it is steep hereabouts."
Steep indeed it was. A kind of shaft, floored for the most part with
slippery earth, but here and there with an irregular stairway of
rock; and still at the lower end of the tunnel shone a faint light.
I would have given worlds by this time to retrace my steps. A slight
draught, blowing up the tunnel from my companion to me, bore the
odour of death upwards under my nostrils; but this, while it dizzied
and sickened me, seemed to clog my feet and take away all will to
escape. I had nearly swooned, indeed, when my feet encountered level
earth again, and she put out a hand to steady me.
"Is--is--this the end?"
"It goes down--down, little boy; but we need not follow it.
See, there is light, to the left of you; light, and fresh air,
_and_ my pretty bower."
I turned as her hand guided me. A puff of wind blew on my cheek,
cold and infinitely pure. I stood blinking in a short gallery that
ended suddenly in blue sky, and, staggering forward, I cast myself
down on the brink.
It was as though I lay on the sill of a great open window. Below
me--far below--waved great masses of forest, and beyond these--far
beyond--shone the blue sea. I cannot say to what depth the cliff
fell away below me. It was more than sheer--it was undercut.
I lay as one suspended over the void.
"But see, pe-ritty boy! did I not promise you wonders?"
As I faced around to the darkness of the gallery, she held aloft
something which, for the moment, I mistook for a great green snake
with lines of fire running from scale to scale and sparkling as she
waved it before me. I rolled over upon my elbow and stared. It was
a rope of emeralds.
She flung an end over one shoulder and looped it low over her breast;
then, passing the other end about her neck, she brought it forward
over the same shoulder and let it dangle. It reached almost to her
feet.
"Does it become me, little boy?" She made me a mock curtsey that set
the gems dancing with fire. "Come and choose, then!" She put out
both hands to the darkness by the wall, and a whole cascade of jewels
came sliding down and poured themselves with a rush about her feet
and across the floor of the gallery. She laughed and thrust her
hands again into the heap.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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