The Romance of Golden Star ...Griffith, George Chetwynd
Science
The Romance of Golden Star ...
Griffith, George Chetwynd
Fantasy fiction
Hour after hour I led them on, turning from valley to valley on the road
that was visible only to my own eyes, and ever rising higher and higher
towards the twin peaks that now stood out dark and sharp against the
starry sky. At last, when our watches were nearly marking ten o'clock, I
stopped before a cliff covered with bushes and creeping grasses, and
calling Tupac to me, I bade him seek for an opening under these.
He groped about among the bushes for a while, and then suddenly, with a
short cry of surprise, he vanished, as it seemed, through the face of
the rock itself. I dismounted and followed him, and found him standing
behind the bushes, facing a square doorway cut in the rock and lined
with masonry. Behind it, and closing it completely, was a great slab of
dressed stone. Down the sides of the doorway were two square pillars of
stone, and in the middle of one, to the left hand, three little lines
had been cut about a finger's breadth apart, but so faintly that only
one who knew they were there could find them.
I stretched a string across from the middle one of these to the
right-hand pillar, and where the string ended in the centre of the
pillar I felt with my finger-tips and found a little circle about as big
round as an English two-shilling piece. Tupac had in his hand the iron
rod that I had used on the Rodadero. I took it from him, and, pressing
the end against the circle, told him to push with me, and, to his
wonder, the rod sank, seemingly, into the solid stone, forcing out a
bolt which had been fitted so cunningly into the pillar that the end of
it looked no more than a circle traced on the face of it.
When we had pushed the rod in about six inches I bade Tupac help me to
pull it round towards the door. The pillar turned on a central hinge as
we did so, and the great stone slab swung back by its own weight, which
we had thus released, opening the entrance to a tunnel high enough for a
man to walk through erect. This tunnel sloped somewhat sharply upwards,
and looking up it I could see, shining in the clear sky beyond the upper
entrance, the stars that I knew were reflected in the still waters of
the little lake by which Golden Star was sleeping the sleep out of which
we had come to wake her.
As the passage was not large enough for the mules to go through with
their burdens, I bade my men unload them and carry their loads through
into the valley. Then we followed, leading our own animals by the
bridle, and after us the cargo-mules were driven through. The load of
one of them was a long, narrow case of wood like that in which the
professor had taken my own dead body to London, but this was thickly and
softly padded inside with wool, and lined with white linen, and at one
end was a little pillow of the softest down, on which the head of Golden
Star would soon be resting.
As soon as we were all standing outside the upper mouth of the tunnel I
looked at Joyful Star and said,--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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