Brood of the Witch-Queen Sax Rohmer (read 50 shades of grey TXT) 📖

“As you like,” replied Sime quietly, and again quite master of himself. “Look out for snakes. I will carry the light and you can keep yours handy in case you may need it.”

Dr. Cairn drew himself up into the entrance. The passage was less than four feet high, and generations of sandstorms had polished its sloping granite floor so as to render it impossible to descend except by resting one’s hands on the roof above and lowering one’s self foot by foot.

A passage of this description, descending at a sharp angle for over two hundred feet, is not particularly easy to negotiate, and progress was slow. Dr. Cairn at every five yards or so would stop, and, with the pocket-lamp which he carried, would examine the sandy floor and the crevices between the huge blocks composing the passage, in quest of those faint tracks which warn the traveller that a serpent has recently passed that way. Then, replacing his lamp, he would proceed. Sime followed in like manner, employing only one hand to support himself, and, with the other, constantly directing the ray of his pocket torch past his companion, and down into the blackness beneath.

Out in the desert the atmosphere had been sufficiently hot, but now with every step it grew hotter and hotter. That indescribable smell, as of a decay begun in remote ages, that rises with the impalpable dust in these mysterious labyrinths of Ancient Egypt which never know the light of day, rose stiflingly; until, at some forty or fifty feet below the level of the sand outside, respiration became difficult, and the two paused, bathed in perspiration and gasping for air.

“Another thirty or forty feet,” panted Sime, “and we shall be in the level passage. There is a sort of low, artificial cavern there, you may remember, where, although we cannot stand upright, we can sit and rest for a few moments.”

Speech was exhausting, and no further words were exchanged until the bottom of the slope was reached, and the combined lights of the two pocket-lamps showed them that they had reached a tiny chamber irregularly hewn in the living rock. This also was less than four feet high, but its jagged floor being level, they were enabled to pause here for a while.

“Do you notice something unfamiliar in the smell of the place?”

Dr. Cairn was the speaker. Sime nodded, wiping the perspiration from his face the while.

“It was bad enough when I came here before,” he said hoarsely. “It is terrible work for a heavy man. But tonight it seems to be reeking. I have smelt nothing like it in my life.”

“Correct,” replied Dr. Cairn grimly. “I trust that, once clear of this place, you will never smell it again.”

“What is it?”

“It is the incense,” was the reply. “Come! The worst of our task is before us yet.”

The continuation of the passage now showed as an opening no more than fifteen to seventeen inches high. It was necessary, therefore, to lie prone upon the rubbish of the floor, and to proceed serpent fashion; one could not even employ one’s knees, so low was the roof, but was compelled to progress by clutching at the irregularities in the wall, and by digging the elbows into the splintered stones one crawled upon!

For three yards or so they proceeded thus. Then Dr. Cairn lay suddenly still.

“What is it?” whispered Sime.

A threat of panic was in his voice. He dared not conjecture what would happen if either should be overcome in that evil-smelling burrow, deep in the bowels of the ancient building. At that moment it seemed to him, absurdly enough, that the weight of the giant pile rested upon his back, was crushing him, pressing the life out from his body as he lay there prone, with his eyes fixed upon the rubber soles of Dr. Cairn’s shoes, directly in front of him.

But softly came a reply:

“Do not speak again! Proceed as quietly as possible, and pray heaven we are not expected!”

Sime understood. With a malignant enemy before them, this hole in the rock through which they crawled was a certain deathtrap. He thought of the headless bats and of how he, in crawling out into the shaft ahead, must lay himself open to a similar fate!

Dr. Cairn moved slowly onward. Despite their anxiety to avoid noise, neither he nor his companion could control their heavy breathing. Both were panting for air. The temperature was now deathly. A candle would scarcely have burnt in the vitiated air; and above that odour of ancient rottenness which all explorers of the monuments of Egypt know, rose that other indescribable odour which seemed to stifle one’s very soul.

Dr. Cairn stopped again.

Sime knew, having performed this journey before, that his companion must have reached the end of the passage, that he must be lying peering out into the shaft, for which they were making. He extinguished his lamp.

Again Dr. Cairn moved forward. Stretching out his hand, Sime found only emptiness. He wriggled forward, in turn, rapidly, all the time groping with his fingers. Then:

“Take my hand,” came a whisper. “Another two feet, and you can stand upright.”

He proceeded, grasped the hand which was extended to him in the impenetrable darkness, and panting, temporarily exhausted, rose upright beside Dr. Cairn, and stretched his cramped limbs.

Side by side they stood, mantled about in such a darkness as cannot be described; in such a silence as dwellers in the busy world cannot conceive; in such an atmosphere of horror that only a man morally and physically brave could have retained his composure.

Dr. Cairn bent to Sime’s ear.

“We must have the light for the ascent,” he whispered. “Have your pistol ready; I am about to press the button of the lamp.”

A shaft of white light shone suddenly up the rocky sides of the pit in which they stood, and lost itself in the gloom of the chamber above.

“On to my shoulders,” jerked Sime. “You are lighter than I. Then, as soon as you can reach, place your lamp on the floor above and mount up