<h2><SPAN name="chap19"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIX.<br/> STARVATION</h2>
<p>I was right. The Abati did think that we had been burned. It never occurred to
them that we might have escaped to the underground city. So at least I judged
from the fact that they made no attempt to seek us there until they learned the
truth in the fashion that I am about to describe. If anything, this safety from
our enemies added to the trials of those hideous days and nights. Had there
been assaults to repel and the excitement of striving against overwhelming
odds, at any rate we should have found occupation for our minds and remaining
energies.</p>
<p>But there were none. By turns we listened at the mouth of the passage for the
echo of footsteps that never came. Nothing came to break a silence so intense
that at last our ears, craving for sound, magnified the soft flitter of the
bats into a noise as of eagle’s wings, till at last we spoke in whispers,
because the full voice of man seemed to affront the solemn quietude, seemed
intolerable to our nerves.</p>
<p>Yet for the first day or two we found occupation of a sort. Of course our first
need was to secure a supply of food, of which we had only a little originally
laid up for our use in the chambers of the old temple, tinned meats that we had
brought from London and so forth, now nearly all consumed. We remembered that
Maqueda had told us of corn from her estates which was stored annually in pits
to provide against the possibility of a siege of Mur, and asked her where it
was.</p>
<p>She led us to a place where round stone covers with rings attached to them were
let into the floor of the cave, not unlike those which stop the coal-shoots in
a town pavement, only larger. With great difficulty we prised one of these up;
to me it did not seem to have been moved since the ancient kings ruled in Mur
and, after leaving it open for a long while for the air within to purify,
lowered Roderick by a rope we had to report its contents. Next moment we heard
him saying: “Want to come up, please. This place is not pleasant.”</p>
<p>We pulled him out and asked what he had found.</p>
<p>“Nothing good to eat,” he answered, “only plenty of dead
bones and one rat that ran up my leg.”</p>
<p>We tried the next two pits with the same result—they were full of human
bones. Then we cross-examined Maqueda, who, after reflection, informed us that
she now remembered that about five generations before a great plague had fallen
on Mur, which reduced its population by one-half. She had heard, also, that
those stricken with the plague were driven into the underground city in order
that they might not infect the others, and supposed that the bones we saw were
their remains. This information caused us to close up those pits again in a
great hurry, though really it did not matter whether we caught the plague or no.</p>
<p>Still, as she was sure that corn was buried somewhere, we went to another group
of pits in a distant chamber, and opened the first one. This time our search
was rewarded, to the extent that we found at the bottom of it some mouldering
dust that years ago had been grain. The other pits, two of which had been
sealed up within three years as the date upon the wax showed, were quite empty.</p>
<p>Then Maqueda understood what had happened.</p>
<p>“Surely the Abati are a people of rogues,” she said. “See
now, the officers appointed to store away my corn which I gave them have stolen
it! Oh! may they live to lack bread even more bitterly than we do to-day.”</p>
<p>We went back to our sleeping-place in silence. Well might we be silent, for of
food we had only enough left for a single scanty meal. Water there was in
plenty, but no food. When we had recovered a little from our horrible
disappointment we consulted together.</p>
<p>“If we could get through the mine tunnel,” said Oliver, “we
might escape into the den of lions, which were probably all destroyed by the
explosion, and so out into the open country.”</p>
<p>“The Fung would take us there,” suggested Higgs.</p>
<p>“No, no,” broke in Roderick, “Fung all gone, or if they do,
anything better than this black hole, yes, even my wife.”</p>
<p>“Let us look,” I said, and we started.</p>
<p>When we reached the passage that led from the city to the Tomb of Kings, it was
to find that the wall at the end of it had been blown bodily back into the
parent cave, leaving an opening through which we could walk side by side. Of
course the contents of the tomb itself were scattered. In all directions lay
bones, objects of gold and other metals, or overturned thrones. The roof and
walls alone remained as they had been.</p>
<p>“What vandalism!” exclaimed Higgs, indignant even in his misery.
“Why wouldn’t you let me move the things when I wanted to,
Orme?”</p>
<p>“Because they would have thought that we were stealing them, old fellow.
Also those Mountaineers were superstitious, and I did not want them to desert.
But what does it matter, anyway? If you had, they would have been burned in the
palace.”</p>
<p>By this time we had reached that end of the vast tomb where the hunchbacked
king used to sit, and saw at once that our quest was vain. The tunnel which we
had dug beyond was utterly choked with masses of fallen rock that we could
never hope to move, even with the aid of explosives, of which we had none left.</p>
<p>So we returned, our last hope gone.</p>
<p>Also another trouble stared us in the face; our supply of the crude mineral oil
which the Abati used for lighting purposes was beginning to run low.
Measurement of what remained of the store laid up for our use while the mine
was being made, revealed the fact that there was only enough left to supply
four lamps for about three days and nights: one for Maqueda, one for ourselves,
one for the watchman near the tunnel mouth, and one for general purposes.</p>
<p>This general-purpose lamp, as a matter of fact, was mostly made use of by
Higgs. Truly, he furnished a striking instance of the ruling passion strong in
death. All through those days of starvation and utter misery, until he grew too
weak and the oil gave out, he trudged backward and forward between the old
temple and the Tomb of Kings carrying a large basket on his arm. Going out with
this basket empty, he would bring it back filled with gold cups and other
precious objects that he had collected from among the bones and scattered
rubbish in the Tomb. These objects he laboriously catalogued in his pocket-book
at night, and afterwards packed away in empty cases that had contained our
supplies of explosive and other goods, carefully nailing them down when filled.</p>
<p>“What on earth are you doing that for, Higgs?” I asked petulantly,
as he finished off another case, I think it was his twentieth.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Doctor,” he answered in a thin voice, for like
the rest of us he was growing feeble on a water-diet. “I suppose it
amuses me to think how jolly it would be to open all these boxes in my rooms in
London after a first-rate dinner of fried sole and steak cut thick,” and
he smacked his poor, hungry lips. “Yes, yes,” he went on, “to
take them out one by one and show them to —— and
——,” and he mentioned by name officials of sundry great
museums with whom he was at war, “and see them tear their hair with rage
and jealousy, while they wondered in their hearts if they could not manage to
seize the lot for the Crown as treasure-trove, or do me out of them
somehow,” and he laughed a little in his old, pleasant fashion.</p>
<p>“Of course I never shall,” he added sadly, “but perhaps one
day some other fellow will find them here and get them to Europe, and if he is
a decent chap, publish my notes and descriptions, of which I have put a
duplicate in each box, and so make my name immortal. Well, I’m off again.
There are four more cases to fill before the oil gives out, and I must get that
great gold head into one of them, though it is an awful job to carry it far at
a time. Doctor, what disease is it that makes your legs suddenly give way
beneath you, so that you find yourself sitting in a heap on the floor without
knowing how you came there? You don’t know? Well, no more do I, but
I’ve got it bad. I tell you I’m downright sore behind from
continual and unexpected contact with the rock.”</p>
<p>Poor old Higgs! I did not like to tell him that his disease was starvation.</p>
<p>Well, he went on with his fetching and carrying and cataloguing and packing. I
remember that the last load he brought in was the golden head he had spoken of,
the wonderful likeness of some prehistoric king which has since excited so much
interest throughout the world. The thing being too heavy for him to carry in
his weakened state, for it is much over life-size, he was obliged to roll it
before him, which accounts for the present somewhat damaged condition of the
nose and semi-Egyptian diadem.</p>
<p>Never shall I forget the sight of the Professor as he appeared out of the
darkness, shuffling along upon his knees where his garments were worn into
holes, and by the feeble light of the lamp that he moved from time to time,
painfully pushing the great yellow object forward, only a foot or two at each
push.</p>
<p>“Here it is at last,” he gasped triumphantly, whilst we watched him
with indifferent eyes. “Japhet, help me to wrap it up in the mat and lift
it into the box. No, no, you donkey—face upward—so. Never mind the
corners, I’ll fill them with ring-money and other trifles,” and out
of his wide pockets he emptied a golden shower, amongst which he sifted
handfuls of dust from the floor and anything else he could find to serve as
packing, finally covering all with a goat’s-hair blanket which he took
from his bed.</p>
<p>Then very slowly he found the lid of the box and nailed it down, resting
between every few strokes of the hammer whilst we watched him in our intent,
but idle, fashion, wondering at the strange form of his madness.</p>
<p>At length the last nail was driven, and seated on the box he put his hand into
an inner pocket to find his note-book, then incontinently fainted. I struggled
to my feet and sprinkled water over his face till he revived and rolled on to
the floor, where presently he sank into sleep or torpor. As he did so the first
lamp gave out.</p>
<p>“Light it, Japhet,” said Maqueda, “it is dark in this
place.”</p>
<p>“O Child of Kings,” answered the man, “I would obey if I
could, but there is no more oil.”</p>
<p>Half-an-hour later the second lamp went out. By the light that remained we made
such arrangements as we could, knowing that soon darkness would be on us. They
were few and simple: the fetching of a jar or two of water, the placing of arms
and ammunition to our hands, and the spreading out of some blankets on which to
lie down side by side upon what I for one believed would be our bed of death.</p>
<p>While we were thus engaged, Japhet crawled into our circle from the outer
gloom. Suddenly I saw his haggard face appear, looking like that of a spirit
rising from the grave.</p>
<p>“My lamp is burned out,” he moaned; “it began to fail whilst
I was on watch at the tunnel mouth, and before I was half-way here it died
altogether. Had it not been for the wire of the ‘thing-that-speaks’
which guided me, I could never have reached you. I should have been lost in the
darkness of the city and perished alone among the ghosts.”</p>
<p>“Well, you are here now,” said Oliver. “Have you anything to
report?”</p>
<p>“Nothing, lord, or at least very little. I moved some of the small rocks
that we piled up, and crept down the hole till I came to a place where the
blessed light of day fell upon me, only one little ray of it, but still the
light of day. I think that something has fallen upon the tunnel and broken it,
perhaps one of the outer walls of the palace. At least I looked through a crack
and saw everywhere ruins—ruins that still smoke. From among them I heard
the voices of men shouting to each other.</p>
<p>“One of them called to his companion that it was strange, if the Gentiles
and the Child of Kings had perished in the fire, that they had not found their
bones which would be known by the guns they carried. His friend answered that
it was strange indeed, but being magicians, perhaps they had hidden away
somewhere. For his part he hoped so, as then sooner or later they would be
found and put to death slowly, as they deserved, who had led astray the Child
of Kings and brought so many of the heaven-descended Abati to their death. Then
fearing lest they should find and kill me, for they drew near as I could tell
by their voices, I crept back again, and that is all my story.”</p>
<p>We said nothing; there seemed to be nothing to say, but sat in our sad circle
and watched the dying lamp. When it began to flicker, leaping up and down like
a thing alive, a sudden panic seized poor Japhet.</p>
<p>“O Walda Nagasta,” he cried, throwing himself at her feet,
“you have called me a brave man, but I am only brave where the sun and
the stars shine. Here in the dark amongst so many angry spirits, and with
hunger gnawing at my bowels, I am a great coward; Joshua himself is not such a
coward as I. Let us go out into the light while there is yet time. Let us give
ourselves up to the Prince. Perhaps he will be merciful and spare our lives, or
at least he will spare yours, and if we die, it will be with the sun shining on
us.”</p>
<p>But Maqueda only shook her head, whereon he turned to Orme and went on:</p>
<p>“Lord, would you have the blood of the Child of Kings upon your hands? Is
it thus that you repay her for her love? Lead her forth. No harm will come to
her who otherwise must perish here in misery.”</p>
<p>“You hear what the man says, Maqueda?” said Orme heavily.
“There is some truth in it. It really does not matter to us whether we
die in the power of the Abati or here of starvation; in fact, I think that we
should prefer the former end, and doubtless no hand will be laid on you. Will
you go?”</p>
<p>“Nay,” she answered passionately. “A hand would be laid on
me, the hand of Joshua, and rather than that he should touch me I will die a
hundred deaths. Let fate take its course, for as I have told you, I believe
that then it will open to us some gate we cannot see. And if I believe in vain,
why there is another gate which we can pass together, O Oliver, and beyond that
gate lies peace. Bid the man be silent, or drive him away. Let him trouble me
no more.”</p>
<p>The lamp flame sank low. It flickered, once, twice, thrice, each time showing
the pale, drawn faces of us six seated about it, like wizards making an
incantation, like corpses in a tomb.</p>
<p>Then it went out.</p>
<p>How long were we in that place after this? At least three whole days and
nights, I believe, if not more, but of course we soon lost all count of time.
At first we suffered agonies from famine, which we strove in vain to assuage
with great draughts of water. No doubt these kept us alive, but even Higgs, who
it may be remembered was a teetotaller, afterwards confessed to me that he has
loathed the sight and taste of water ever since. Indeed he now drinks beer and
wine like other people. It was torture; we could have eaten anything. In fact
the Professor did manage to catch and eat a bat that got entangled in his red
hair. He offered me a bite of it, I remember, and was most grateful when I
declined.</p>
<p>The worst of it was also that we had a little food, a few hard ship’s
biscuits, which we had saved up for a purpose, namely, to feed Maqueda. This
was how we managed it. At certain intervals I would announce that it was time
to eat, and hand Maqueda her biscuit. Then we would all pretend to eat also,
saying how much we felt refreshed by the food and how we longed for more,
smacking our lips and biting on a piece of wood so that she could not help
hearing us.</p>
<p>This piteous farce went on for forty-eight hours or more until at last the
wretched Japhet, who was quite demoralized and in no mood for acting, betrayed
us, exactly how I cannot remember. After this Maqueda would touch nothing more,
which did not greatly matter as there was only one biscuit left. I offered it
to her, whereon she thanked me and all of us for our courtesy toward a woman,
took the biscuit, and gave it to Japhet, who ate it like a wolf.</p>
<p>It was some time after this incident that we discovered Japhet to be missing;
at least we could no longer touch him, nor did he answer when we called.
Therefore, we concluded that he had crept away to die and, I am sorry to say,
thought little more about it for, after all, what he suffered, or had suffered,
we suffered also.</p>
<p>I recall that before we were overtaken by the last sleep, a strange fit came
upon us. Our pangs passed away, much as the pain does when mortification
follows a wound, and with them that horrible craving for nutriment. We grew
cheerful and talked a great deal. Thus Roderick gave me the entire history of
the Fung people and of his life among them and other savage tribes. Further, he
explained every secret detail of their idol worship to Higgs, who was
enormously interested, and tried to make some notes by the aid of our few
remaining matches. When even that subject was exhausted, he sang to us in his
beautiful voice—English hymns and Arab songs. Oliver and Maqueda also
chatted together quite gaily, for I heard them laughing, and gathered that he
was engaged in trying to teach her English.</p>
<p>The last thing that I recollect is the scene as it was revealed by the
momentary light of one of the last matches. Maqueda sat by Oliver. His arm was
about her waist, her head rested upon his shoulder, her long hair flowed loose,
her large and tender eyes stared from her white, wan face up toward his face,
which was almost that of a mummy.</p>
<p>Then on the other side stood my son, supporting himself against the wall of the
room, and beyond him Higgs, a shadow of his former self, feebly waving a pencil
in the air and trying, apparently, to write a note upon his Panama straw hat,
which he held in his left hand, as I suppose, imagining it to be his
pocket-book. The incongruity of that sun-hat in a place where no sun had ever
come made me laugh, and as the match went out I regretted that I had forgotten
to look at his face to ascertain whether he was still wearing his smoked
spectacles.</p>
<p>“What is the use of a straw hat and smoked spectacles in
kingdom-come?” I kept repeating to myself, while Roderick, whose arm I
knew was about me, seemed to answer:</p>
<p>“The Fung wizards say that the sphinx Harmac once wore a hat, but, my
father, I do not know if he had spectacles.”</p>
<p>Then a sensation as of being whirled round and round in some vast machine, down
the sloping sides of which I sank at last into a vortex of utter blackness,
whereof I knew the name was death.</p>
<p>Dimly, very dimly, I became aware that I was being carried. I heard voices in
my ears, but what they said I could not understand. Then a feeling of light
struck upon my eyeballs which gave me great pain. Agony ran all through me as
it does through the limbs of one who is being brought back from death by
drowning. After this something warm was poured down my throat, and I went to
sleep.</p>
<p>When I awoke again it was to find myself in a large room that I did not know. I
was lying on a bed, and by the light of sunrise which streamed through the
window-places I saw the three others, my son Roderick, Orme and Higgs lying on
the other beds, but they were still asleep.</p>
<p>Abati servants entered the room bringing food, a kind of rough soup with pieces
of meat in it of which they gave me a portion in a wooden bowl that I devoured
greedily. Also they shook my companions until they awoke and almost
automatically ate up the contents of similar bowls, after which they went to
sleep again, as I did, thanking heaven that we were all still alive.</p>
<p>Every few hours I had a vision of these men entering with the bowls of soup or
porridge, until at last life and reason came back to me in earnest, and I saw
Higgs sitting up on the bed opposite and staring at me.</p>
<p>“I say, old fellow,” he said, “are we alive, or is this
Hades?”</p>
<p>“Can’t be Hades,” I answered, “because there are Abati
here.”</p>
<p>“Quite right,” he replied. “If the Abati go anywhere,
it’s to hell, where they haven’t whitewashed walls and four-post
beds. Oliver, wake up. We are out of that cave, anyway.”</p>
<p>Orme raised himself on his hand and stared at us.</p>
<p>“Where’s Maqueda?” he asked, a question to which of course,
we could give no answer, till presently Roderick woke also and said:</p>
<p>“I remember something. They carried us all out of the cave; Japhet was
with them. They took the Child of Kings one way and us another, that is all I
know.”</p>
<p>Shortly afterwards the Abati servants arrived, bearing food more solid than the
soup, and with them came one of their doctors, not that old idiot of a court
physician, who examined us, and announced that we should all recover, a fact
which we knew already. We asked many questions of him and the servants, but
could get no answer, for evidently they were sworn to silence. However, we
persuaded them to bring us water to wash in. It came, and with it a polished
piece of metal, such as the Abati use for a looking-glass, in which we saw our
faces, the terrible, wasted faces of those who have gone within a hair’s
breadth of death by starvation in the dark.</p>
<p>Yet although our gaolers would say nothing, something in their aspect told us
that we were in sore peril of our lives. They looked at us hungrily, as a
terrier looks at rats in a wire cage of which the door will presently be
opened. Moreover, Roderick, who, as I think I have said, has very quick ears,
overheard one of the attendants whisper to another:</p>
<p>“When does our service on these hounds of Gentiles come to an end?”
to which his fellow answered, “The Council has not yet decided, but I
think to-morrow or the next day, if they are strong enough. It will be a great
show.”</p>
<p>Also that evening, about sunset, we heard a mob shouting outside the barrack in
which we were imprisoned, for that was its real use, “Give us the
Gentiles! Give us the Gentiles! We are tired of waiting,” until at length
some soldiers drove them away.</p>
<p>Well, we talked the thing over, only to conclude that there was nothing to be
done. We had no friend in the place except Maqueda, and she, it appeared, was a
prisoner like ourselves, and therefore could not communicate with us. Nor could
we see the slightest possibility of escape.</p>
<p>“Out of the frying-pan into the fire,” remarked Higgs gloomily.
“I wish now that they had let us die in the cave. It would have been
better than being baited to death by a mob of Abati.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” answered Oliver with a sigh, for he was thinking of Maqueda,
“but that’s why they saved us, the vindictive beasts, to kill us
for what they are pleased to call high treason.”</p>
<p>“High treason!” exclaimed Higgs. “I hope to goodness their
punishment for the offence is not that of mediæval England; hanging is bad
enough—but the rest——!”</p>
<p>“I don’t think the Abati study European history,” I broke in;
“but it is no use disguising from you that they have methods of their
own. Look here, friends,” I added, “I have kept something about me
in case the worst should come to the worst,” and I produced a little
bottle containing a particularly swift and deadly poison done up into tabloids,
and gave one to each of them. “My advice is,” I added, “that
if you see we are going to be exposed to torture or to any dreadful form of
death, you should take one of these, as I mean to do, and cheat the Abati of
their vengeance.”</p>
<p>“That is all very fine,” said the Professor as he pocketed his
tabloid, “but I never could swallow a pill without water at the best of
times, and I don’t believe those beasts will give one any. Well, I
suppose I must suck it, that’s all. Oh! if only the luck would turn, if
only the luck would turn!”</p>
<p>Three more days went by without any sign of Higgs’s aspiration being
fulfilled. On the contrary, except in one respect, the luck remained steadily
against us. The exception was that we got plenty to eat and consequently
regained our normal state of health and strength more rapidly than might have
been expected. With us it was literally a case of “Let us eat and drink,
for to-morrow we die.”</p>
<p>Only somehow I don’t think that any of us really believed that we should
die, though whether this was because we had all, except poor Quick, survived so
much, or from a sneaking faith in Maqueda’s optimistic dreams, I cannot
say. At any rate we ate our food with appetite, took exercise in an inner yard
of the prison, and strove to grow as strong as we could, feeling that soon we
might need all our powers. Oliver was the most miserable among us, not for his
own sake, but because, poor fellow, he was haunted with fears as to Maqueda and
her fate, although of these he said little or nothing to us. On the other hand,
my son Roderick was by far the most cheerful. He had lived for so many years
upon the brink of death that this familiar gulf seemed to have no terrors for
him.</p>
<p>“All come right somehow, my father,” he said airily. “Who can
know what happen? Perhaps Child of King drag us out of mud-hole, for after all
she was very strong cow, or what you call it, heifer, and I think toss Joshua
if he drive her into corner. Or perhaps other thing occur.”</p>
<p>“What other thing, Roderick?” I asked.</p>
<p>“Oh! don’t know, can’t say, but I think Fung thing. Believe
we not done with Fung yet, believe they not run far. Believe they take thought
for morrow and come back again. Only,” he added sadly, “hope my
wife not come back, for that old girl too full of lofty temper for me. Still,
cheer up, not dead yet by long day’s march, and meanwhile food good and
this very jolly rest after beastly underground city. Now I tell Professor some
more stories about Fung religion, den of lions, and so forth.”</p>
<p>On the morning after this conversation a crisis came. Just as we had finished
breakfast the doors of our chamber were thrown open and in marched a number of
soldiers wearing Joshua’s badge. They were headed by an officer of his
household, who commanded us to rise and follow him.</p>
<p>“Where to?” asked Orme.</p>
<p>“To take your trial before the Child of Kings and her Council, Gentile,
upon the charge of having murdered certain of her subjects,” answered the
officer sternly.</p>
<p>“That’s all right,” said Higgs with a sigh of relief.
“If Maqueda is chairman of the Bench we are pretty certain of an
acquittal, for Orme’s sake if not for our own.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you be too sure of that,” I whispered into his ear.
“The circumstances are peculiar, and women have been known to change
their minds.”</p>
<p>“Adams,” he replied, glaring at me through his smoked spectacles,
“If you talk like that we shall quarrel. Maqueda change her mind indeed!
Why, it is an insult to suggest such a thing, and if you take my advice you
won’t let Oliver hear you. Don’t you remember, man, that
she’s in love with him?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” I answered, “but I remember also that Prince
Joshua is in love with her, and that she is his prisoner.”</p>
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