The world below
resign our customs either in the Choosing of Males, or in the Rites of
the Preparations. Shall our daughters be less than we? Or shall we
degrade ourselves that others may come after us? We are ourselves the
race, and it is in ourselves that it shall continue.”
At this point, as a book may be illustrated, so the thought changed to
picture, and we had a moment’s sight of the protagonists as they had
appeared as these thoughts were contended.
They were in a lighted space in a hall of vast and shadowy gloom, so
that even their giant forms were dwarfed by its proportions. They were
in the midst of a great assembly, through and over which there was a
diffused light, coming from no visible source, so that the gloom
deepened on every side towards the vaulted roof, and the invisible
distance of the walls.
She stood forward from a group of women, vital as herself,
multi-coloured in their nudity. But she stood out from them like a
living flame, the ruddy orange of her hair continuing in a lengthened
ridge along the spine, dividing the fire-hued back that softened forward
to a paler gold.
There was no speech from her lips, for their thoughts leapt out too
swiftly for words, but they were parted in mockery, and her eyes were
alight with defiance, as The First leaned forward from his high throned
seat, and threw out sudden hands of pleading as he increased the
intensity of the thought with which he assailed her.
“You boast that you will not die, as we have boasted before you. You
boast that you will not tire. Are there no women in the Place of
Forgetting? Are there not those among them that are as vigorous as
yourself, and with a beauty that may last for millenniums? Yet love
cannot allure them. If those that have been dearest approach, they
regard them with indifferent eyes. We show them birth, and they are not
wakened: they see death, and have no care to avoid it.
“Look at myself!”--he rose up from the throne, and stood erect, strong,
active, as though he were an ivory statue of perpetual youth,--“is there
one of the young men who seek the Place of Twilight who is more strong
or more graceful?--One whom I could not overcome with my hands in the
Place of Trials? Will it not still be so for a millennium of the years
to be.--And for another--and another?
“_And yet I know._ I have heard the call that will grow louder. I have
felt the desire of the Silence,--and it will grow, though to-day it be
powerless. It will conquer, though to-day it be impotent.
“As you boast to-day, have we not boasted before you?
“We think to last in the Perpetual Places, but the night will find us,
even as it falls on the rain-drenched roof of the world, where our
ancestors once crouched and shivered.
“We have conquered cold. We have defeated darkness. We have tamed heat
till it licks our feet like a fawning dog. We have resisted corruption.
But there is a night of the soul that falls across the procession of
unending years, against which, one by one, we fight a battle that is
always lost.
“... And every year our race declines, and our women-children are fewer.
“Therefore, each for each, shall you take the Males of our choosing,
forgetting the Caprice of Choice, and the Seven Grounds of Rejection.
Therefore shall the girl go not to the Place of Preparation, but to the
toil of the fish-tanks, and so in turn shall the two that are
younger----”
It was at this point that my comrade interrupted, not impatiently, but
with a quick suggestion that the discussion to which we were attending
was of no immediate assistance, and when I assented somewhat
reluctantly,--for I had been more interested than she in the situation
which was revealed by the disputation,--she went on to suggest that the
book we were consulting so industriously was not likely to contain
anything of a greater value.
She added, “I think that we are not merely wasting time, but incurring a
needless peril. I think that there is little doubt that we have
penetrated into the Sacred Places where the Dwellers did not wish us to
enter, and it may be that we have already encountered the reason for
this reluctance. It is not likely that they would wish this information
as to the condition of their nation to be known, even to their friends,
and still less that there should be any possibility that it might be
carried farther to those who are at enmity with them. There may be other
things which might be learnt which would be still more to their
detriment. It might be fatal to both of us should we be discovered in
this occupation, while we have little hope of any resulting gain, for it
is not the history of past days which we need to know, but rather the
place where your friend is confined, the means of secret approach, the
method by which he may be freed, and the safest road of escape to the
outer world when we have released him.”
I answered, “You are right, as you usually are. But we have a proverb
that we may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, which appears
applicable to our present circumstances. If our movements and occupation
be within the knowledge of the Dwellers, our prospect of escape is
already too small to be interesting. If they have no knowledge, as yet,
of where we are, I suggest that we may do well to discover the library
from which this volume had apparently been taken, where there may be
other books of a more direct utility.”
My companion assented, though doubtfully. “It is an added risk, for an
uncertain gain; yet it is true that if we turn back now, we have very
little to set against the certain peril which we have incurred by
penetrating into these secret places. Nor have we any guidance to direct
our search in subterranean ways, the extent of which may be greater even
than we have previously anticipated,--and even the search for the
library which we suppose to exist does not appear to be a very simple
enterprise.”
I knew that. The librarian, if such she were, had followed us down the
passage, and must have come either from the surface world, or from one
of the other passages that we had passed. The latter was the more
probable supposition. But which passage should we prefer? And how far
should we explore it before turning back and attempting the other?
The search for such a library, even should it exist, might be as
difficult as for the ultimate destination at which we were aiming. I saw
also that time had become of greater importance to my companion than to
myself. I had still the best part of the year before me. She had days
only, if she were to return within the limit fixed by the treaty. To
both of us it might be of the greatest moment to escape unseen from the
Sacred Places, if these were really they. For myself, there was the
consideration that, should she return within the allotted period, I
should be left without the aid of her counsel, or the support of her
vitality.
It was under the influence of these thoughts that I suggested, “Suppose
we wait here for a time, watching from the farther side of the passage.
It may be that she will wake, and herself return the book to the
library, and we would follow unseen. Otherwise, we might follow her in
any other direction which she might take, which would be as likely to
bring us to some definite issue, as wandering blindly in the darkness of
these passages--and we know how much easier is the walking when she goes
before us. But if she should sleep beyond our patience we will search
ourselves without further waiting.”
My companion answered, still doubtfully, “I don’t think it likely that
she brought the book simply to return it, for why then should she not
have given it the information where it was, without bringing it here at
all? But it may be so. It is all guesses. It shall be as you will.”
Before we commenced our vigil, however, I made a further venture into
the lighted room, for I had seen that both water and food (the
bread-like cake which I had found when first I ventured below the
surface) were among the articles that stood against the left-hand wall,
and the chance was too good to lose.
I have wondered since, in the light of these experiences, how far the
furtive lives of those creatures who exist behind the skirting-boards of
our houses, are to be either pitied or envied. I feed, as a mouse feeds,
venturing audaciously for bedside crumbs while a light still burns, and
the fear, real enough, and with sufficient cause, which came as I
watched the huge form that might rise at any moment and chase me with a
monstrous hand outstretched, must be off-set by the satisfaction that
the meal gave to the alertness of my physical being, and to the joyous
sense of a hazard won with which I rejoined my companion in the outer
darkness.
For (have I not said already?) the darkness in the passage was absolute.
Even immediately in front of the open doorway, the darkness fell like a
curtain.
Here arises an issue on which I am in two minds continually. In this
strange world we were constantly surrounded by phenomena which were not
explicable by any knowledge I possessed, nor consistent with any
previous experiences. So was it here. I was accustomed to light that
invaded darkness and gradually died as its source was distanced, but
here was light which was sharply defined in its area,--which ended
evenly and abruptly. To explain this is necessary for my narrative. But
that necessity is incidental. We were surrounded by phenomena which were
equally new, but which were entirely irrelevant. Sometimes I was able to
imagine an explanation: sometimes not. Sometimes the cause became clear
subsequently, or was told to me. I should like to tell of all these
things, but I have a tale to tell also. I am of one mind to turn aside,
and of another mind to go forward. But I see that if I would reach the
conclusion at which I aim, I must restrain my desire to wander.
We sat for some time in the darkness against the opposite wall watching
the form of the Dweller, who did not move, and was still apparently
sleeping. There was no means of judging the passage of time, but it was
long since I had slept, and after the meal I had to confess to an
increasing drowsiness, on which my companion suggested that I should use
the time in sleep, which I required at shorter intervals than herself,
while she would watch for us both.
CHAPTER X
VISIONS
I do not know how long I slept, but suppose it to have been for many
hours. I waked to find that nothing had changed.
Invigorated by rest, I was quite willing to agree that we should wait no
longer, but proceed upon our own investigations.
Rising with this purpose, our eyes were first attracted to the wall
behind us in which was depicted one of those living scenes with which we
had already become familiar.
Strange and wonderful as they then seemed, I have since realised that
there were many simpler-seeming things around me which are less easily
explicable.
Knowing, as we do, that sight travels through space, bearing the vision
of that which was, to the infinite distances, and that we ourselves can
behold the stars of earlier millenniums in positions which they have
long ceased to occupy, it is not difficult to understand that the
Dwellers must have discovered a process by which such visions could be
deflected or reflected back to the earth from which they originated, and
that it was the past history of the earth which was unfolded through the
walls of these dark and (as we subsequently realised) seemingly unending
corridors.
The substance of the walls on or through which these scenes were
displayed excited but did not gratify my curiosity. The effect was as
though looking through a dark mirror which gave a moving scene on a