benita-第39部分

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the　crucifix　formed　the　door；　she　paused　for　a　moment　to　examine　it

and　to　place　a　fragment　of　rock　in　such　fashion　that　it　could　not　shut

again　behind　her。　Her　idea　was　that　it　worked　by　aid　of　some　spring；

but　now　she　saw　that　this　was　not　so；　as　the　whole　mass　hung　upon

three　stone　hinges　beautifully　concealed。　The　dust　and　corrosion　of

ages　which　had　made　this　door　so　hard　to　open；　by　filling　up　the　tiny

spaces　between　it　and　its　framework；　had　also　rendered　these　cracks

utterly　imperceptible　to　the　eye。　So　accurately　was　it　fashioned；

indeed；　that　no　one　who　did　not　know　its　secret　would　have　discovered

it　if　they　searched　for　months　or　years。



Though　at　the　time　Benita　took　little　note　of　such　details；　the

passage　beyond　and　the　stair　descending　from　it　showed　the　same

perfect　workmanship。　Evidently　this　secret　way　dated　not　from　the

Portuguese　period；　but　from　that　of　the　Ph？nicians　or　other　ancients；

to　whose　treasure…chamber　it　was　the　approach；　opening　as　it　did　from

their　holy　of　holies；　to　which　none　were　admitted　save　the　head

priests。　The　passage；　which　was　about　seven　feet　high　by　four　wide；

had　been　hewn　out　of　the　live　rock　of　the　mountain；　for　thousands　of

little　marks　left　by　the　workmen's　chisels　were　still　discernible　upon

its　walls。　So　it　was　with　the　stair；　that　had　been　but　little　used；

and　remained　fresh　as　the　day　when　it　was　finished。



Down　the　steps；　candle　in　hand；　flitted　Benita；　counting　them　as　she

went。　The　thirtieth　brought　her　to　a　landing。　Here　it　was　that　she　saw

the　first　traces　of　that　treasure　which　they　had　suffered　so　much　to

find。　Something　glittered　at　her　feet。　She　picked　it　up。　It　was　a

little　bar　of　gold　weighing　two　or　three　ounces　that　doubtless　had

been　dropped　there。　Throwing　it　down　again　she　looked　in　front　of　her；

and　to　her　dismay　saw　a　door　of　wood　with　iron　bolts。　But　the　bolts

had　never　been　shot；　and　when　she　pulled　at　it　the　door　creaked　upon

its　rusty　hinges　and　opened。　She　was　on　the　threshold　of　the　treasure…

chamber！



It　was　square　and　of　the　size　of　a　small　room；　packed　on　either　side

almost　to　the　low；　vaulted　roof　with　small　bags　of　raw　hide；

carelessly　arranged。　Quite　near　to　the　door　one　of　these　bags　had

slipped　down　and　burst　open。　It　was　filled　with　gold；　some　in　ingots

and　some　in　raw　nuggets；　for　there　they　lay　in　a　shining；　scattered

heap。　As　she　stooped　to　look　it　came　into　the　mind　of　Benita　that　her

father　had　said　that　in　her　trance　she　had　told　them　that　one　of　the

bags　of　treasure　was　burst；　and　that　the　skin　of　which　it　had　been

made　was　black　and　red。　Behold！　before　her　lay　the　burst　bag；　and　the

colour　of　the　hide　was　black　and　red。



She　shivered。　The　thing　was　uncanny；　terrible。　Uncanny　was　it　also　to

see　in　the　thick　dust；　which　in　the　course　of　twenty　or　more　of

centuries　had　gathered　on　the　floor；　the　mark　of　footprints；　those　of

the　last　persons　who　had　visited　this　place。　There　had　been　two　of

them；　a　man　and　a　woman；　and　they　were　no　savages；　for　they　wore

shoes。　Benita　placed　her　foot　in　the　print　left　by　that　dead　woman。　It

filled　it　exactly；　it　might　have　been　her　own。　Perhaps；　she　thought　to

herself；　that　other　Benita　had　descended　here　with　her　father；　after

the　Portuguese　had　hidden　away　their　wealth；　that　she　might　be　shown

where　it　was；　and　of　what　it　consisted。



One　more　glance　at　all　this　priceless；　misery…working　gold；　and　on　she

went；　she　who　was　seeking　the　gold　of　life　and　liberty　for　herself　and

him　who　lay　above。　Supposing　that　the　stairway　ended　there？　She

stopped；　she　looked　round；　but　could　see　no　other　door。　To　see　the

better　she　halted　and　opened　the　glass　of　her　lantern。　Still　she　could

perceive　nothing；　and　her　heart　sank。　Yet　why　did　the　candle　flicker

so　fiercely？　And　why　was　the　air　in　this　deep　place　so　fresh？　She

walked　forward　a　pace　or　two；　then　noticed　suddenly　that　those

footprints　of　the　dead　that　she　was　following　disappeared　immediately

in　front　of　her；　and　she　stopped。



It　was　but　just　in　time。　One　step　more　and　she　would　have　fallen　down

the　mouth　of　a　deep　pit。　Once　it　had　been　covered　with　a　stone；　but

this　stone　was　removed；　and　had　never　been　replaced。　Look！　there　it

stood　against　the　wall　of　the　chamber。　Well　was　this　for　Benita；　since

her　frail　strength　would　not　have　sufficed　to　stir　that　massive　block；

even　if　she　had　discovered　its　existence　beneath　the　dust。



Now　she　saw　that　down　the　pit　ran　another　ladderlike　stair　of　stone；

very　narrow　and　precipitous。　Without　hesitation　she　began　its　descent。

Down　she　went　and　downone　hundred　steps；　two　hundred　steps；　two

hundred　and　seventy…five　steps；　and　all　the　way　wherever　the　dust　had

gathered　the　man's　and　the　woman's　footprints　ran　before　her。　There

was　a　double　line　of　them；　one　line　going　down　and　the　other　line

returning。　Those　that　returned　were　the　last；　for　often　they　appeared

over　those　that　descended。　Why　had　these　dead　people　returned；　Benita

wondered。



The　stair　had　ended；　now　she　was　in　a　kind　of　natural　cave；　for　its

sides　and　roof　were　rugged；　moreover；　water　trickled　and　dripped　from

them。　It　was　not　very　large；　and　it　smelt　horribly　of　mud　and　other

things。　Again　she　searched　by　the　feeble　light　of　her　candle；　but

could　see　no　exit。　Suddenly　she　saw　something　else；　however；　for

stepping　on　what　she　took　to　be　a　rock；　to　her　horror　it　moved　beneath

her。　She　heard　a　snap　as　of　jaws；　a　violent　blow　upon　the　leg　nearly

knocked　her　off　her　feet；　and　as　she　staggered　backwards　she　saw　a

huge　and　loathsome　shape　rushing　away　into　the　darkness。　The　rock　that

she　had　trodden　on　was　a　crocodile　which　had　its　den　here！　With　a

little　scream　she　retreated　to　her　stair。　Death　she　had　expectedbut

to　be　eaten　by　crocodiles！



Yet　as　Benita　stood　there　panting　a　blessed　hope　rose　in　her　breast。

If　a　crocodile　came　in　there　it　must　also　get　out；　and　where　such　a

great　creature　could　go；　a　woman　would　be　able　to　follow。　Also；　she

must　be　near　the　water；　since　otherwise　it　could　never　have　chosen

this　hole　for　its　habitation。　She　collected　her　courage；　and　having

clapped　her　hands　and　waved　the　lantern　about　to　scare　any　alligators

that　might　still　be　lurking　there；　hearing　and　seeing　nothing　more；

she　descended　to　where　she　had　trodden　upon　the　reptile。　Evidently

this　was　its　bed；　for　its　long　body　had　left　an　impress　upon　the　mud；

and　all　about　lay　the　remains　of　creatures　that　it　had　brought　in　for

food。　Moreover；　a　path　ran　outwards；　its　well…worn　trail　distinct　even

in　that　light。



She　followed　this　path；　which　ended　apparently　in　a　blank　wall。　Then

it　was　that　Benita　guessed　why　those　dead　folks'　footprints　had

returned；　for　here　had　been　a　doorway　which　in　some　past　age　those　who

used　it　built　up　with　blocks　of　stone　and　cement。　How；　then；　did　the

crocodile　get　out？　Stooping　down　she　searched；　and　perceived；　a　few

yards　to　the　right　of　the　door；　a　hole　that　looked　as　though　it　were

water…worn。　Now　Benita　thought　that　she　understood。　The　rock　was

softer　here；　and　centuries　of　flood　had　eaten　it　away；　leaving　a　crack

in　the　stratum　which　the　crocodiles　had　found　out　and　enlarged。　Down

she　went　on　her　hands　and　knees；　and　thrusting　the　lantern　in　front　of

her；　crept　along　that　noisome　drain；　for　this　was　what　it　resembled。

And　nowoh！　now　she　felt　air　blowing　in　her　face；　and　heard　the　sound

of　reeds　whispering；　and　water　running；　and　saw　hanging　like　a　lamp　in

the　blue　sky；　a　starthe　morning　star！　Benita　could　have　wept；　she

could　have　worshipped　it；　yet　she　pushed　on　between　rocks　till　she

found　herself　among　tall　reeds；　and　standing　in　water。　She　had　gained

the　banks　of　the　Zambesi。



Instantly；　by　instinct　as　it　were；　Benita　extinguished　her　candle；

fearing　lest　it　should　betray　her；　for　constant　danger　had　made　her

very　cunning。　The　dawn　had　not　yet　broken；　but　the　waning　moon　and　the

stars　gave　a　good　light。　She　paused　to　look。　There　above　her　towered

the　outermost　wall　of　Bambatse；　against　which　the　river　washed；　except

at　such　times　as　the　present；　when　it　was　very　low。



So　she　was　not　in　the　fortress　as　she　had　hoped；　but　without　it；　and

oh！　what　should　she　do？　Go　back　again？　How　would　that　serve　her　father

or　herself？　Go　on？　Then　she　might　fall　into　the　hands　of　the　Matabele

whose　camp　was　a　little　lower　down；　as　from　her　perch　upon　the　top　of

the　cone　she　had　seen　that　poor　white　man　do。　Ah！　the　white　man！　If

only　he　lived　and　she　could　reach　him！　Perhaps　they　had　not　killed　him

after　all。　It　was　madness；　yet　she　would　try　to　discover；　something

impelled　her　to　take　the　risk。　If　she　failed　and　escaped；　perhaps　then

she　might　call　to　the　Makalanga；　and　they　would　let　down　a　rope　and

draw　her　up　the　wall　before　the　Matabele　caught　her。　She　would　not　go

back　empty…handed；　to　die　in　that　dreadful　place　with　her　poor　father。

Better　perish　here　in　the　sweet　air　and　beneath　the　stars；　even　if　it

were　upon　a　Matabele　spear；　or　by　a　bullet　from　her　own　pistol。



She　looked　about　her　to　take　her　bearings　in　case　it　should　ever　be

necessary　for　her　to　return　to　the　entrance　of　the　cave。　This　proved

easy；　for　a　hundred　or　so　feet　above　herwhere　the　sheer　face　of　the

cliff　jutted　out　a　little；　at　that　very　spot　indeed　on　which　tradition

said　that　the　body　of　the　Se？ora　da　Ferreira　had　struck　in　its　fall；

and　the　necklace　Benita　wore　to…day　was　torn　from　hera　stunted

mimosa　grew　in　some　cleft　of　the　rock。　To　mark　the　crocodile　run

itself　she　bent　down　a　bunch　of　reeds；　and　having　first　lit　a　few

Tandstickor　brimstone　matches　and　thrown　them　about　inside　of　it；　that

the　smell　of　them　might　scare　the　beast　should　it　wish　to　return；　she

set　her　lantern　behind　a　stone　near　to　the　mouth　of　the　hole。



Then　Benita　began　her　journey　which；　when　the　river　was　high；　it　would

not　have　been　possible　for　her　to　make　except　by　swimming。　As　it　was；

a　margin　of　marsh　was　left　between　her　and　the　steep；　r