“It must be here,” Vaughan whispered huskily, “but where?”
All at once Tony realized that he was right: there was something here, something besides themselves, something not of this world. A dreadful sensation of being watched began to grow in his mind. Something monstrous and terribly powerful was aware of these intruders in its lair; soon it would strike. A feeling of gradually mounting tension, like that before the breaking of a thunderstorm, was piling up around them. The shadows grew deeper; the beams of the torches seemed to waver and grow dim. A breath of icy cold air, in frightful contrast to the prevailing heat, stirred Tony’s hair, and a faint shudder ran through the rock beneath their feet.
“Come, we must get out of this!” Gaunt’s voice cut the silence like the crack of a whip. He began to run towards the foot of the pathway leading up to the tunnel from which they had come. Vaughan seized Tony by the arm and, half dragging the young man, followed him. By the time they reached the side of the cavern Tony had shaken off the lethargy which had seemed to dull his brain, and as hurriedly as was possible in safety the three clambered up to the ledge. Tony would have lingered there, but Gaunt and his colleague both caught his arms and rushed him up the passage.
“We dare not stop another moment,” the doctor insisted as they went; “in a few more seconds it would have materialized; and to wait for that, unprotected as we are, would have been madness.”
Tony himself failed to see what all the excitement was about, but he allowed that his companions knew more about these matters than he did, and he did not argue. As last they reached the steps leading up into the altar, and climbed out into the crypt above. Before he shut the pivoted slab Gaunt pointed to a curious design chiseled on the under side of the stone.
“I don’t suppose it often leaves the great cave,” he said, “but if it did, that would prevent it getting any farther.”
Tony peered at the interlaced triangles and shook his head.
“It’s too deep for me,” he admitted.
The doctor smiled.
“You will understand one day,” he said.
After dinner Tony asked what the next step would be, and Vaughan answered him:
“The doctor and I will have to go down again, after taking suitable measures to protect ourselves. It is absolutely necessary that we see the thing in action before we can set about the task of destroying it. We do not yet know what form it takes when materialized, even. Later you will have to help us, but you will have to learn how to protect yourself also before you can do that. Gaunt will teach you, if you will only follow his instructions absolutely.”
Tony assured him that he was only too eager to begin his studies; and shortly afterwards they retired for the night.
While he was undressing it occurred to Tony how completely he had misjudged Vaughan when he had first met him that morning. The man was charming: his conversation brilliant, and his manners gentle. The gross exterior was soon forgotten in the light of his true personality. Telling himself not to be so hasty in future, the young man climbed into bed, blew out his candle, and soon fell asleep. His nerve-raking experiences in the caves did not trouble him at all; in the new wisdom he was learning from Gaunt they appeared to be quite natural, and he felt wonderfully secure in the hands of his wise and experienced friend.
The clock in the hall below was striking two when Gaunt’s door opened softly and the doctor passed silently down the gallery, disappearing into Vaughan’s room. Both were wearing felt-soled shoes when they emerged, and Gaunt was carrying his torch, but the light was unnecessary as they went down the staircase, for the moon was shining through the high, narrow windows of the hall. Beneath the staircase the moon did not penetrate, and the crypt was as black as ever when they reached it.
Gaunt set his torch on the altar steps while his companion unlocked one of the trunks which had been carried down that afternoon. Out of the capacious interior he extracted two neatly folded white bundles, one of which he handed to the doctor. These proved to be long garments of linen, not unlike priests’ albs, which covered the wearers from neck to ankle, being girt about the middle with a scarlet cord. Round the hem of the skirt and the cuffs cabalistic symbols were embroidered in red silk. When they had attired themselves in these Vaughan went again to the trunk and took out various other articles, which he set upon the altar. There were two circlets of lead, curiously engraved; two metal rods, which glittered oddly in the dim light; and a glass vessel containing a dark liquid.
“You performed the consecration properly?” Gaunt asked in a low voice. “Our lives depend upon it.” To which the other replied, his thick lips trembling:
“Nothing has been forgotten. I know the danger. Now the ointment”; and, taking up the glass vessel, he proceeded to anoint the doctor’s head and hands, muttering some formula the while. When he had done Gaunt performed a like service for him, and returned the vessel to the trunk. Then they set the leaden circles on their heads and took the rods in their left hands.
“We must leave the torch; we dare not show a light,” said Gaunt, as they lifted the altar-stone. Vaughan nodded silently, and they passed down the slippery steps, feeling their way in the thick darkness, and almost choking with the appalling smell, now far worse than it had been in the afternoon.
It was slow going in the dark, and their clinging robes did not help them, but at last they reached the division of the ways. After some groping they found the left-hand tunnel, and continued cautiously along it. Suddenly Gaunt stopped, and caught his companion by the sleeve.
“Do you hear it?” he whispered.
Vaughan listened, shivering slightly. From the pitchy blackness in front came a low breathing sound, something like the wind, but more regular. A long, slow breathing, like a great animal asleep.
Even more cautiously than before the two crept forward, hugging the rough wall on their right. Once they crossed the mouth of a side tunnel, and had to stumble unaided for a few feet. Their felt shoes were saturated with the slime underfoot, and made little squelching sounds as they walked. The heat grew intense, and great drops of sweat trickled from beneath the lead bands on their foreheads. Their lungs laboured in the foul air.
The breathing sound in front stopped. Gaunt’s fingers tightened on his colleague’s arm as they stood still, waiting. A slight vibration ran through the rock beneath.
“It is awake,” the doctor whispered, his tongue rustling like paper in his dry mouth. Vaughan’s great body was quivering like a jelly, but he strove manfully to remain calm. Silently they pressed forward once more.
Presently they became aware of a faint greenish glow in the darkness ahead, and almost before they knew it they were at the bend of the passage. Here Vaughan’s courage well-nigh failed him altogether, and he would have fallen but for Gaunt’s arm. The doctor turned upon him fiercely.
“Have you forgotten the oath?” he whispered hoarsely. “Shall it be said that only they have courage?”; and, dragging his unwilling companion, he turned the corner, and they came out upon the ledge in the great cavern.
It was very different from when they had last looked upon it. Now the whole vast space was permeated by a strange green radiance, which appeared to emanate from the rock of the floor far below. The walls around, the domed roof above, were plainly visible; and the strangely attired pair on the ledge could see each other clearly in the weird light. A monstrous silence pressed like an invisible cloud upon their heads, and waves of almost intolerable heat beat upon their pallid faces. The stench was abominable.
Vaughan found words.
“Where — where is it?” he gulped.
Gaunt pointed downwards with the rod in his hand, and the other peered fearfully over the brink. Then he too saw.