The House on the Borderland

  _IX_

  IN THE CELLARS

  At last, what with being tired and cold, and the uneasiness thatpossessed me, I resolved to take a walk through the house; first callingin at the study, for a glass of brandy to warm me. This, I did, and,while there, I examined the door, carefully; but found all as I had leftit the night before.

  The day was just breaking, as I left the tower; though it was still toodark in the house to be able to see without a light, and I took one ofthe study candles with me on my 'round. By the time I had finished theground floor, the daylight was creeping in, wanly, through the barredwindows. My search had shown me nothing fresh. Everything appeared to bein order, and I was on the point of extinguishing my candle, when thethought suggested itself to me to have another glance 'round thecellars. I had not, if I remember rightly, been into them since my hastysearch on the evening of the attack.

  For, perhaps, the half of a minute, I hesitated. I would have been verywilling to forego the task--as, indeed, I am inclined to think any manwell might--for of all the great, awe-inspiring rooms in this house, thecellars are the hugest and weirdest. Great, gloomy caverns of places,unlit by any ray of daylight. Yet, I would not shirk the work. I feltthat to do so would smack of sheer cowardice. Besides, as I reassuredmyself, the cellars were really the most unlikely places in which tocome across anything dangerous; considering that they can be entered,only through a heavy oaken door, the key of which, I carry always onmy person.

  It is in the smallest of these places that I keep my wine; a gloomyhole close to the foot of the cellar stairs; and beyond which, I haveseldom proceeded. Indeed, save for the rummage 'round, alreadymentioned, I doubt whether I had ever, before, been right throughthe cellars.

  As I unlocked the great door, at the top of the steps, I paused,nervously, a moment, at the strange, desolate smell that assailed mynostrils. Then, throwing the barrel of my weapon forward, I descended,slowly, into the darkness of the underground regions.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I stood for a minute, and listened.All was silent, save for a faint drip, drip of water, falling,drop-by-drop, somewhere to my left. As I stood, I noticed how quietlythe candle burnt; never a flicker nor flare, so utterly windless wasthe place.

  Quietly, I moved from cellar to cellar. I had but a very dim memory oftheir arrangement. The impressions left by my first search were blurred.I had recollections of a succession of great cellars, and of one,greater than the rest, the roof of which was upheld by pillars; beyondthat my mind was hazy, and predominated by a sense of cold and darknessand shadows. Now, however, it was different; for, although nervous, Iwas sufficiently collected to be able to look about me, and note thestructure and size of the different vaults I entered.

  Of course, with the amount of light given by my candle, it was notpossible to examine each place, minutely, but I was enabled to notice,as I went along, that the walls appeared to be built with wonderfulprecision and finish; while here and there, an occasional, massivepillar shot up to support the vaulted roof.

  Thus, I came, at last, to the great cellar that I remembered. It isreached, through a huge, arched entrance, on which I observed strange,fantastic carvings, which threw queer shadows under the light of mycandle. As I stood, and examined these, thoughtfully, it occurred to mehow strange it was, that I should be so little acquainted with my ownhouse. Yet, this may be easily understood, when one realizes the size ofthis ancient pile, and the fact that only my old sister and I live init, occupying a few of the rooms, such as our wants decide.

  Holding the light high, I passed on into the cellar, and, keeping tothe right, paced slowly up, until I reached the further end. I walkedquietly, and looked cautiously about, as I went. But, so far as thelight showed, I saw nothing unusual.

  At the top, I turned to the left, still keeping to the wall, and socontinued, until I had traversed the whole of the vast chamber. As Imoved along, I noticed that the floor was composed of solid rock, inplaces covered with a damp mould, in others bare, or almost so, save fora thin coating of light-grey dust.

  I had halted at the doorway. Now, however, I turned, and made my way upthe center of the place; passing among the pillars, and glancing toright and left, as I moved. About halfway up the cellar, I stubbed myfoot against something that gave out a metallic sound. Stooping quickly,I held the candle, and saw that the object I had kicked, was a large,metal ring. Bending lower, I cleared the dust from around it, and,presently, discovered that it was attached to a ponderous trap door,black with age.

  Feeling excited, and wondering to where it could lead, I laid my gun onthe floor, and, sticking the candle in the trigger guard, took the ringin both hands, and pulled. The trap creaked loudly--the sound echoing,vaguely, through the huge place--and opened, heavily.

  Propping the edge on my knee, I reached for the candle, and held it inthe opening, moving it to right and left; but could see nothing. I waspuzzled and surprised. There were no signs of steps, nor even theappearance of there ever having been any. Nothing; save an emptyblackness. I might have been looking down into a bottomless, sidelesswell. Then, even as I stared, full of perplexity, I seemed to hear, fardown, as though from untold depths, a faint whisper of sound. I bent myhead, quickly, more into the opening, and listened, intently. It mayhave been fancy; but I could have sworn to hearing a soft titter, thatgrew into a hideous, chuckling, faint and distant. Startled, I leaptbackward, letting the trap fall, with a hollow clang, that filled theplace with echoes. Even then, I seemed to hear that mocking, suggestivelaughter; but this, I knew, must be my imagination. The sound, I hadheard, was far too slight to penetrate through the cumbrous trap.

  For a full minute, I stood there, quivering--glancing, nervously,behind and before; but the great cellar was silent as a grave, and,gradually, I shook off the frightened sensation. With a calmer mind, Ibecame again curious to know into what that trap opened; but could not,then, summon sufficient courage to make a further investigation. Onething I felt, however, was that the trap ought to be secured. This, Iaccomplished by placing upon it several large pieces of 'dressed'stone, which I had noticed in my tour along the East wall.

  Then, after a final scrutiny of the rest of the place, I retraced myway through the cellars, to the stairs, and so reached the daylight,with an infinite feeling of relief, that the uncomfortable task wasaccomplished.