"Did you notice that box he had slung on his shoulder? That belongs to
me. I left it in the gun-room when I went to lunch. He must have crept
in and stolen it. Doubtless he thinks that it, too, is full of
treasure."
"He does!"
"How on earth do you know?" asked Adam.
"A little while ago he offered to give it to me--another bribe to accept
him. Faugh! I am ashamed to tell you such a thing. The beast!"
Whilst they had been speaking, she had opened the door, a narrow iron
one, well hung, for it opened easily and closed tightly without any
creaking or sound of any kind. Within all was dark; but she entered as
freely and with as little misgiving or restraint as if it had been broad
daylight. For Adam, there was just sufficient green light from somewhere
for him to see that there was a broad flight of heavy stone steps leading
upward; but Lady Arabella, after shutting the door behind her, when it
closed tightly without a clang, tripped up the steps lightly and swiftly.
For an instant all was dark, but there came again the faint green light
which enabled him to see the outlines of things. Another iron door,
narrow like the first and fairly high, led into another large room, the
walls of which were of massive stones, so closely joined together as to
exhibit only one smooth surface. This presented the appearance of having
at one time been polished. On the far side, also smooth like the walls,
was the reverse of a wide, but not high, iron door. Here there was a
little more light, for the high-up aperture over the door opened to the
air.
Lady Arabella took from her girdle another small key, which she inserted
in a keyhole in the centre of a massive lock. The great bolt seemed
wonderfully hung, for the moment the small key was turned, the bolts of
the great lock moved noiselessly and the iron doors swung open. On the
stone steps outside stood Oolanga, with the mongoose box slung over his
shoulder. Lady Arabella stood a little on one side, and the African,
accepting the movement as an invitation, entered in an obsequious way.
The moment, however, that he was inside, he gave a quick look around him.
"Much death here--big death. Many deaths. Good, good!"
He sniffed round as if he was enjoying the scent. The matter and manner
of his speech were so revolting that instinctively Adam's hand wandered
to his revolver, and, with his finger on the trigger, he rested satisfied
that he was ready for any emergency.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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