The Mystery of the Ravenspurs: A Romance and Detective Story of Thibet and EnglandWhite, Fred M. (Fred Merrick)
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The Mystery of the Ravenspurs: A Romance and Detective Story of Thibet and England
White, Fred M. (Fred Merrick)
Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Romance fiction; Tibet Autonomous Region (China) -- Fiction
"They led us out into the open air, still crooning that dirge. They
brought us at length to the head of a great valley between huge towering
mountains, as if the Alps had been sliced in two and a narrow passage
made between them. At the head of this passage was a door let into the
cliff and down through this door they thrust us. It was dark inside. For
the first part of the way, till we reached the floor of the valley, we
were to be accompanied by four priests, a delicate attention to prevent
us from breaking our necks before we reached the bottom. But our guides
did not mean us to perish so mercifully.
"'Listen to me,' Zara cried, 'listen for the last time. You are going
into the Black Valley; of its horror and dangers you know nothing as
yet. But you will soon learn. Take comfort in the fact that there is an
exit at the far end if you can find it. When you are out of the exit you
are free. Thousands have walked this valley, and over their dry bones
you will make your way. Out of these thousands one man escaped. Perhaps
you will be as fortunate. Farewell!'
"The door clanged behind us, and we were alone with the priests. We
could not see, we could only feel our way down those awful cliffs, where
one false step would have smashed us to pieces. But the priests never
hesitated. Down, down we went until we reached the bottom. There we
could just see dimly.
"'You could guide us through?' I asked.
"One of the priests nodded. He could save us if he liked. Not that I was
going to waste my breath by asking him. They were priests of a minor
degree; there were thousands of them about the temple, all alike as peas
in a pod. If these men failed to return they would never be missed. A
desperate resolution came to me. In a few English whispered words I
conveyed it to Ralph Ravenspur.
"We still had a priest on either side of us. At a given signal we
produced our revolvers, and before the priests had the remotest idea
what had happened two of them were dead on the ground, shot through the
brain. When the thousand and one echoes died away we each had our man by
the throat. What did we care if the plot was discovered or not! We were
both desperate.
"'Listen, dog,' I cried. 'You have seen your companions perish. If you
would escape a similar death, you will bear us to safety. You shall
walk ten paces in front, and if you try to evade us you die, for our
weapons carry farther than you can run in the space of two minutes.
Well, are you going to convey us to a place of safety, or shall we shoot
you like the others?'"
Tchigorsky paused and pulled at his watch. He drew back the catch and
the rapid little pulse beat one.
Then he rose to his feet.
"To be continued in our next," he said. "The time has come to act.
Follow me and betray no surprise at anything you may see or hear."
"You can rely upon me," Geoffrey whispered. "Lead on."
CHAPTER XLIX
RALPH TAKES CHARGE
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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