|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 62
[Illustration: "Come, and I'll share my secret with you."]
Norton's secret was a hidden room of the King's Palace. While many men
knew of the Palace itself, he believed that none other than himself had
ever ferreted out this particular chamber which he called the Treasure
Chamber. It was to be reached by clambering through an orifice of the
eastern wall, over a clutter of fallen blocks of stone and a score of
feet along the narrowing ledge. Just before they came to the point
where the encroaching wall of cliff denied farther foothold they found
a fissure in the rock itself wide enough to allow them to slip into it.
Again they climbed, coming presently to a ledge smaller than the one
below and hidden by an outthrust boulder. Here was the last of the
rooms of the King's Palace, cunningly masked, to be found only by
accident, even the cramped door concealed by the branches of a tortured
cedar. Norton pushed them aside and they entered.
"I have cached a few of my things here," he told her as they confronted
each other in the gloom of the room's interior. "And the joke of it is
that my hiding-place is almost if not quite directly below the caves
where Galloway's rifles are. This is a secret, mind you! . . . If
you'll look around, you'll find some of the articles our friends the
cliff-dwellers left behind them when they made their getaway."
In a dark corner she found a blackened coffee-pot and a frying-pan,
proclaiming anachronistically that here was the twentieth century
interloping upon the fifteenth, articles which Norton had hidden here.
In another corner were jumbled the things which the ancient people had
left to mark their passing, an earthenware water-jar, half a dozen
spear and arrow points of stone, a clumsy-looking axe still fitted to
its handle of century-seasoned cedar, bound with thongs.
"But," exclaimed the girl, "the wood, the raw-hide . . . they would
have disintegrated long ago. They must belong to the age of your
coffee-pot and frying-pan!"
"The air is bone-dry," he reminded her. "What little rain there is
never gets in here. Nothing decays; look yonder."
He showed her a basket made of withes, a graceful thing skilfully made,
small, frail-looking, and as perfect as the day it had come from a pair
of quick brown hands under a pair of quick black eyes. She took it
almost with a sense of awe upon her.
"Keep it, will you?" he asked lightly. "As a memento. Presented by a
caveman through your friend the sheriff. Now let's get back before
they miss us. I may have need of this place some time and I'd rather
no one else knew of it."
They made their way back as they had come and in silence, Virginia
treasuring the token and with it the sense that her friend the sheriff
had cared to share his secret with her.
They made of the day an occasion to be remembered, to be considered
wistfully in retrospect during the troubled hours so soon to come to
each one of the four of them. While Elmer and Florrie gathered
fire-wood, Norton showed Virginia how simple a matter it was here in
this seldom-visited mountain-stream to take a trout. Cool, shaded
pools under overhanging, gouged-out banks, tiny falls, and shimmering
riffles all housed the quick speckled beauties. Then, as Norton had
predicted, the fish were fried, crisp and brown, in sizzling
bacon-grease, while the thin wafers of bacon garnished the tin plate
bedded in hot ashes. They nooned in the shady grove, sipping their
coffee that had the taste of some rare, black nectar. And throughout
the long lazy afternoon they loitered as it pleased them, picked
flowers, wandered anew through the ruins of the King's Palace, lay by
the singing water, and were quietly content. It was only when the
shadows had thickened over the world and the promise of the primroses
was fulfilled that they made ready for the return ride. Before they
had gone down to their horses the moths were coming to the yellow
flowers, tumbling about them, filling the air with the frail beating of
their wings.
At Struve's hotel . . . Elmer and Virginia had ridden on to Engle's
home . . . Virginia told Norton good night, thanking him for a perfect
day. As their hands met for a little she saw a new, deeply probing
look in his eyes, a look to be understood. He towered over her,
physically superb. As she had felt it before, so now did she
experience that odd little thrill born from nearness to him go singing
through her. She withdrew her hand hastily and went in. In her own
room she stood a long time before her glass, seeking to read what lay
in her own eyes.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|