It was black and empty. In it he turned to assure himself that the rest had got through. The others were close upon his heels. Vladimir and Bozo were beating off the submen in a desperate rear-guard action.
'Come on,' he called. 'We've got the legs of them, and a clear run before us.' Then he plunged into the tunnel.
The others followed, breaking clear of the mob almost immediately. Yet, as they ran, they knew that they were pursued, for even the echo of their own flying feet did not entirely drown the soft padding of those countless others and the shrill birdlike voices of the submen twittered angrily in their ears.
Count Axel lit the way, his torch focused to the front but downwards, so that they should not rush headlong over some precipice hidden in the velvet blackness. Once or twice the McKay flashed his light up to the roof or walls. The tunnel was about twenty feet in height, and, apparently hewn out of the solid rock.
After a few moments they outdistanced their pursuers. The cries and patter had died behind them. They eased their pace and dropped into a steady loping trot.
The tunnel ended abruptly and, almost before they had realised it, they were traversing a level open space which sloped downwards. The roof was visible, but no walls until, two hundred yards further on they ran slap into one. Turning left they sped along it, hoping to find a break in its smooth surface but, before they did so that stealthy padding of the now silent mob upon their heels, could be heard again.
Unseen by the humans the submen streamed into the chamber, cutting diagonally across it and now it was evident that they were not totally blind, for they began to cast stones in the direction of the torches.
The McKay turned to face the new attack but, as the first shower of stones descended, Nicky cried: 'Here—this way! There's another tunnel.'
'Keep in your ranks,' called the McKay and, thrusting past Nicky, with Axel at his side, he led the way down it.
The second tunnel was much longer than the first and after a half a mile they had outdistanced the short-legged submen again. They slowed up then into a quick walk, all breathing heavily.
At last the second tunnel ended in another high-roofed chamber but the eyes of the whole party were instantly riveted on one spot in it, low down towards their right. A pale cloud of luminous silver light broke the curtain of pitchy blackness. Like children who had ventured into the dark cellars below some old house, they instinctively ran towards it.
The light came from a round pool about fifty feet in diameter, edged by a broken stone wall just knee high. The water was oily and showed not a ripple, the luminosity came from pieces of dead fish, transparent scales and spiky fins that were floating in a silvery scum upon its surface.
At first they thought the pool to be another of those strange subterranean harbours like that from which they had come, but suddenly the waters broke.
An utterly hideous and rapacious face stared up at them. It was a Merman, such as they had seen on their later dives but larger, and the fair quill-like hair not only stood out backwards from its narrow skull but also sprouted from its fanged receding jaw in a jagged beard.
They drew back in repulsion as others, females of the species, rose silently beside it, staring at them with beady unblinking eyes.
'If I could spare the bullets I'd put some into them,' muttered the McKay. 'But every one I've got is worth its weight in emeralds. Come on—we'll choose another place to rest in before we go any further.'
After exploring for a little while they found two fresh tunnels about fifty yards apart, but owing to their visit to the pool they were now no longer quite certain of their direction, so chose the entrance of the largest and sat down in it for a breather.
'How are you all feeling?' asked the McKay anxiously. 'Anyone get hurt in our last scrap?'
'My calf is cut by a stone,' complained the Doctor, 'but that is now of no consequence. What matters is that I have a pain in my stomach from hunger.'
The McKay considered for a moment. The herd had evidently given up the chase or taken a wrong turning among this labyrinth of chambers and tunnels. It seemed that they might just as well consume such food as they had left now. What object was there in saving it until later. In another twelve hours they must find a new source of supply or the game was up—and the sooner it was over, the better then. Since breakfast on the ship—yes, twenty-two hours ago— although it felt like a separate life-time, they had had only one scratch meal to support them. He ordered out the remainder of their provender.
An utter silence filled the great black spaces. Only the sound of their munching broke the heavy stillness.
In ten minutes they had finished up all that was left of their picnic lunch and were temporarily rested. The weaker members of the party had had four hours' sleep before the fight in the harbour and, in spite of her horrible experience with the octopus, the freer feeling of the great tunnels made Sally a little less nervy, while Camilla's tendency towards hysteria had played itself out, so that she squatted beside Vladimir now, sunk in a natural silence.
'We'll move on I think,' said the McKay, but as he was about to rise Count Axel held out a restraining hand.
'A cigarette first please. I have some still since we were not allowed to smoke in the bathysphere. After all why should we hurry, as we have no idea where we wish to go. Our only clear objective is to avoid those filthy fish-eating creatures.'
'Just as you like,' the McKay sat down again. He remembered that he had some cigarettes too—one would be very welcome. Most of the others had small supplies and soon they were all lighting up.
"This was a good idea,' said the McKay softly as he 243
offered Axel a light. 'Restore the old morale eh? You're a cool hand Count and I take off my hat to you.'
The Count shrugged. 'It is only the outcome of a lifelong habit of procrastination,' he replied, 'no more.' But in his mind he knew that the reason lay far deeper and could not be easily explained. He had decided definitely now that they had all died in the bathysphere. Slinger—Ardow—the immaculate but unscrupulous Mr. Kale—were all so infinitely far removed from this new existence.
That the party had remained together was quite explicable. From people who believed that they understood at least the fringe of such things he had heard that in a railway accident those who met sudden death could not quite realise at first that they were really dead, and spoke to the rescuers who removed their bodies, hoping they would hear. Yet they found no response—only from those who had died with them and, for a little while, they were earth-bound with those dead companions. Then in due course they had become accustomed to the new plane they occupied and drifted apart from their fellow dead—impelled by an omnipotent guidance towards the sphere reserved for their new activities.
It seemed to the Count that this dark underworld must be that in which the ancients had believed so universally; a sort of Purgatory where he would suffer in proportion to his sins but, as surely as the sun would rise again upon the upper earth tomorrow, the vital essence of himself would remain unharmed. Why therefore should they hurry anywhere.
His cigarette was only two thirds smoked when that stealthy patter of naked feet reached his ears again. The others had heard it too. As the McKay sprang up they all scrambled to their feet. The sound seemed to come down the tunnel in the entrance of which they were sitting.
'Form up!' rapped out the McKay, 'we'll take the smaller tunnel,' and at a trot again he led them to the other opening in the wall fifty yards further on.
Their sense of direction had deceived them in the darkness but they realised it too late. As they reached the second tunnel the submen came streaming out of it right on to them.