Fisher let him talk, for this was his mood. Presently he came to quiet again, and said—
"Where are we now? What's the place like?"
"It seems to me to be a forest between the hills," said Fisher. "There's a wood to your left and a great stretch of grassland in front of us. But, for all the way I see out, we might be in a basin."
"There must be a road," said the man impatiently, "or the woman wouldn't have come here. What's that singing noise I hear?—it's falling water, isn't it?"
"I went that way last night," said Fisher; "there is a river, but it rushes down like a cataract."
"Then follow it," said the Prince, "follow it through. The road should lie where it breaches the hills. That's sense, isn't it? I'm strong enough now; and dark here or dark there, what's the odds?"
"I think you're right," exclaimed Fisher, who had become timid before the other's brusqueness; "but, Prince, you're very bitter with me."
"Bitter!" said the man, who had stood up at his words; "bitter with you? No, not that; you stand between me and death. Let me hold your hands—let me hold them tight. I've no eyes, and the darkness presses down upon me; you'll be my eyes now. Heaven knows, you're the only one in my life that I ever cared to see twice—man, I just loved you."
"Then we'll face it together," said the other, "if you'll have me for a friend, Prince."
The Prince laughed at the suggestion.
"Hal," said he, "it looks as if I had no choice—I must just put up with you. Let me lean upon your arm. I feel as if I were going downhill; the ground sinks away from me wherever I put my feet. I'll be better when I've walked a spell. What's the road like in front?"
"There's a dingle full of long grass and a mass of flowers. The place is as wild as a jungle, and almost dark with shadow of the trees."
"Are you sure there's no one in sight?"
"Not a living soul."
"Well, I'm keen of hearing, and I think you're right; but there'll be work to do when we get out into the open. You won't forget that they'll watch the road like a trap; and I don't see what's to prevent us being taken."
"We shall die here, any way," said Fisher; "we may as well face it, if it's only on the odd chance."
They had come into the depths of the thicket, and their boots were dyed with the gold of the flowers upon which they trod. Long marsh grass, from which sprang orchids and ox-eyes and ivies abundantly, led them down a silent avenue, where birds of rich plumage rose up, startled at their coming, and a myriad flies buzzed ceaselessly about them. Then they struck the river where it narrowed until it became a stream not fifteen yards wide, scouring between rugged banks of white earth toward the lower end of the silent valley.
At a break in the banks of this swiftly flowing stream they lay down to quench their thirst, and when the man's eyes had been again bound up in the wetted rag, he threw himself upon the ground as he was wont to do in the old time, and listened with ear intent for the sound of men moving or of voices. When he had satisfied himself that no such sounds were to be heard, he rose up more cheerfully, and prepared to continue the journey.
"It's clear," he said, as the pair of them tramped along briskly in spite of their fatigue, "that the woman used this river as her road out of the hills; and we must use it, too. How, I can't tell you now, but the way will show presently."
Fisher thought so, too, but he only said "Yes," for anxiety was pressing upon him, and weariness and hunger. He thought often that he could not drag his weary limbs another step, and he walked mechanically for nearly an hour, while the stream alternately ran between high banks of rock or spread itself abroad in the valley, broadening until it swept the long grasses and the lilies, and washed the leaves of the overhanging trees. At last, however, and when the exhausted men had come under the very shadow of the great hill which stood as a barrier between them and the outer world, it narrowed again, running between high ramparts of rock straight toward the headland.
Some time before the two had reached this place Fisher had uttered an exclamation whose dominant note was one of surprise; but to the man's quick enquiry: "What is it?" he made no answer, only hurrying him on. When he stopped ultimately, it was upon the border of a pool in which the water swirled fiercely before it entered the cutting, and in this pool a rude punt, almost round in shape, was moored. There was only a pole in the ship, and a big locker at one end of it; but it was, beyond doubt, the last resort of the woman, and the means between herself and secret flight from the castle. The sight of it was as wine to the lad.
"Prince!" he cried with exceeding joy, "you've eyes now for ten of us! Here's what you were looking for—a punt against the bank, and a pole in it!"
"I was expecting it half-an-hour ago," said Messenger. "Well, we'll just get in, and leave the rest to chance. Is the river swift?"
"It runs like a mill."
"All the better; where the woman went we may go. Just place me where I can hold tight, and keep her in the centre of the stream. If there's going to be any shooting, I prefer to be on my back."
He was guided in, and set comfortably, with his back against the locker, almost as he spoke; and then Fisher rolled up his sleeves and cast free the mooring. A gentle push drove the punt from the bank, but the stream caught it as a match, and sent it whirling wildly round, with the spray foaming around it, and the water wetting the two to their skins.
At one time Fisher declared that their venture would end where it began; but he had seen something of river work, and when he had recovered himself from the first shock, he contrived to get a hold for his pole, and sent the rickety craft rocking into the deep of the stream. It was carried thence swiftly between the high banks, and from that moment the peril of the journey began.
Of this Messenger himself knew nothing. He experienced only the sensation of swift travel through the air; he heard the harsh grating when the tub struck the bank, or bounded off the embossment of a jutting rock; he was conscious that his companion was in the throes of ceaseless work and activity. But to Fisher the picture was very different. Though the heavy wooden tub was abnormally strong, he thought every moment to see her crushed into splinters as the rapids drove her onward at a headlong pace, and the river-bed inclined until the stream itself was like a roaring torrent.
As the craft thus was forced onward the banks upon either side of the river became higher, until it seemed as if the punt were being carried into the very bowels of the earth. Deep and dark and infinitely green the torrent ran in its rocky bed, sinking and yet sinking until it fell, as it were, under the shadow of the hill, and all that could be seen from the boat were precipices of stone, and great heights which no man could ascend. But yet its course was straight as the rule upon the line, and the ship kept from wreckage upon the bank with the least touch of the skilfully handled pole. Then, quickly the light in the abyss failed; a tremendous roaring, as of a mighty cascade, rang in the ears of the two; they were plunged into utter darkness, and the cries died upon their lips as the punt bounded onward with shocks innumerable, and great crashes, and the sound of wood splintering.
The truth was that they had entered a tunnel, cut by nature, under the great hill which was one of the ramparts of the valley; and they now voyaged through the bowels of the earth. Fisher, indeed, had seen the orifice of the subterranean way long before he had reached it, but had waited until they were near to the approach before he had called to Messenger to throw himself flat, and, on his part, had hauled in his pole and lain down, holding to the crossplanks with all his strength. From that time both the nature of the passage and the manner of it were hidden from him. He could tell little beyond the terror of the transit when, in the darkness, he felt the boat spinning round and round like a top; or striking the rock with fearful concussion; or flying downward like a ship upon the fall of a sea. And he wondered that the punt held together, that she was not shivered like a glass falling upon stone, that he did not feel the water about his ears and mouth, and come to the unutterable struggle for life and breath in that tomb of horror and of noise.