Marianela 2

Marianela 2

The voice which had for a few minutes so charmed the lost wanderer with

its enchanting strains was dying away in the dark void, and at the

shouts of Golfin it was suddenly silent. Beyond a doubt the mysterious

gnome, who was solacing its underground loneliness by singing its

plaintive loves, had taken fright at this rough interruption by a human

being, and fled to the deepest caverns of the earth, where precious

gems lay hidden, jealous of their own splendor.

 

"This is a pleasant state of things--" muttered Golfin, thinking that

after all he could do no better than light his cigar.--"There seems no

reason why it should not go on for a hundred years. I can smoke and

wait. It was a clever idea of mine that I could walk up alone to the

mines of Socartes. My luggage will have got there before me--a signal

proof of the advantages of 'on, straight on.'"

 

A light breeze at this instant sprang up, and Golfin fancied he

heard the sound of footsteps at the bottom of the unknown--or

imaginary--abyss before him; he listened sharply, and in a minute felt

quite certain that some one was walking below. He stood up and shouted:

 

"Girl, man, or whoever you are, can I get to the mines of Socartes by

this road?"

 

He had not done speaking when he heard a dog barking wildly, and then a

manly voice saying: "Choto, Choto! come here!"

 

"Hi there!" cried the traveller. "My good friend--man, boy, demon, or

whatever you are, call back your dog, for I am a man of peace."

 

"Choto, Choto!..."

 

Golfin could make out the form of a large, black dog coming towards

him, but after sniffing round him it retired at its master's call;

and at that moment the traveller could distinguish a figure, a man,

standing as immovable as a stone image, at about ten paces below him,

on a slanting pathway which seemed to cut across the steep incline.

This path, and the human form standing there, became quite clear now to

Golfin, who, looking up to the sky, exclaimed:

 

"Thank God! here is the mad moon at last; now we can see where we are.

I had not the faintest notion that a path existed so close to me, why,

it is quite a road. Tell me, my friend, do you know whether the mines

of Socartes are hereabout?"

 

"Yes, Señor, these are the mines of Socartes; but we are at some

distance from the works."

 

The voice which spoke thus was youthful and pleasant, with the

attractive inflection that indicates a polite readiness to be of

service. The doctor was well pleased at detecting this, and still

better pleased at observing the soft light, which was spreading through

the darkness and bringing resurrection to earth and sky, as though

calling them forth from nothingness.

 

"_Fiat lux!_" he said, going forward down the slope. "I feel as if I

had just emerged into existence from primeval chaos.... Indeed, my good

friend, I am truly grateful to you for the information you have given

me, and for the farther information you no doubt will give me. I left

Villamojada as the sun was setting.--They told me to go on, straight

on...."

 

"Are you going to the works?" asked the strange youth, without stirring

from the spot or looking up towards the doctor, who was now quite near

him.

 

"Yes, Señor; but I have certainly lost my way."

 

"Well, this is not the entrance to the mines. The entrance is by the

steps at Rabagones, from which the road runs and the tram-way that

they are making. If you had gone that way you would have reached the

works in ten minutes. From here it is a long way, and a very bad road.

We are at the outer circle of the mining galleries, and shall have to

go through passages and tunnels, down ladders, through cuttings, up

slopes, and then down the inclined plane; in short, cross the mines

from this side to the other, where the workshops are and the furnaces,

the machines and the smelting-house."

 

"Well, I seem to have been uncommonly stupid," said Golfin, laughing.

 

"I will guide you with much pleasure, for I know every inch of the

place."

 

Golfin, whose feet sank in the loose earth, slipping here and tottering

there, had at last reached the solid ground of the path, and his first

idea was to look closely at the good-natured lad who addressed him.

For a minute or two he was speechless with surprise.

 

"You!" he said, in a low voice.

 

"I am blind, it is true, Señor," said the boy. "But I can run without

seeing from one end to the other of the mines of Socartes. This stick I

carry prevents my stumbling, and Choto is always with me, when I have

not got Nela with me, who is my guide. So, follow me, Señor, and allow

me to guide you."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER II.

 

GUIDED RIGHT.

 

 

"And were you born blind?" asked Golfin, with eager interest, arising

not only from compassion.

 

"Yes, Señor, born blind," replied the lad, with perfect simplicity.

"I only know the world by fancy, feeling and hearing. I have learned

to understand that the most wonderful portion of the universe is that

which is unknown to me. I know that the eyes of other people are not

like mine, since they are able to distinguish things by them--but the

power seems to me so extraordinary, that I cannot even imagine the

possibility of its existence."

 

"Who knows ..." Golfin began. "But what strange scene is this, my

friend? What a wonderful place we are in!"

 

The traveller, who had been walking by the side of his companion,

stood still in astonishment at the weird view which lay before him.

They were in a deep basin resembling the crater of a volcano; the

ground at the bottom was broken and rough, and the sloping sides still

more so. Round the margin and in the middle of the vast caldron,

which looked even larger than it was in the deceptive chiaroscuro of

the moonlit night, stood colossal figures, deformed caricatures of

humanity, monsters lying prone with their feet in the air, with arms

spread in despair, stunted growths, distorted faces such as we see in

the whimsical wreathing of floating clouds--but all still, silent, and

turned to stone. In color they were mummy-like, a reddish bistre; their

action suggested the delirium of fever arrested by sudden death. It was

as though giant forms had petrified in the midst of some demoniacal

orgy, and their gestures and the burlesque grimaces of the monstrous

heads had been stricken into fixity, like the motionless attitudes of

sculpture. The silence which prevailed in this volcanic-looking hollow

was itself terrifying. One might fancy that the cries and shrieks of a

thousand voices had been petrified too, and had been held there locked

in stone for ages.

 

"Where are we, my young friend?" asked Golfin. "This place is like a

nightmare."

 

"This part of the mine is called La Terrible," replied the blind boy,

not appreciating his companion's frame of mind. "It was worked till

about two years ago when the ore was exhausted, and now the mining

is carried on in other parts which are more profitable. The strange

objects that surprise you so much are the blocks of stone which we call

_cretácea_, and which consist of hardened ferruginous clay, after the

ore has been extracted. I have been told that the effect is sublime,

particularly in the moonlight; but I do not understand such things."

 

"A wonderful effect,--yes--" said the stranger, who still stood gazing

at the scene, "but which to me is more terrible than pleasing, for it

reminds me of the horrors of neuralgia.--Shall I tell you what it is

like? It is as if I were standing inside a monstrous brain suffering

from a fearful headache. Those figures are like the images which

present themselves to the tortured brain, and become confounded with

the hideous fancies and visions created by a fevered mind."

 

"Choto, Choto, here!" called the blind lad. "Take care now, Señor, how

you walk; we are going into a gallery." And, in fact, Golfin saw that

his guide, feeling with his stick, was making his way towards a narrow

entrance distinguished by three stout posts.

 

The dog went in first, snuffing at the black cavern; the blind boy

followed him with the calm indifference of a man who dwells in

perpetual darkness. Golfin followed, not without some instinctive

trepidation and repugnance at an underground expedition.

 

"It is really wonderful," he said, "that you should go in and out of

such a place without stumbling."

 

"I have lived all my life in these places, and know them as well as my

own home. Here it is very cold; wrap yourself up if have you a cloak

with you. We shall soon be out at the other end." He walked on, feeling

his way with his hand along the wall, which was formed of upright

beams, and saying:

 

"Mind you do not stumble over the ruts in the path; they bring the

mineral along here from the diggings above. Are you cold?"

 

"Tell me," said the doctor, gaily. "Are you quite certain that the

earth has not swallowed us up? This passage is the gullet of some

monstrous insectivorous brute into whose stomach we miserable worms

have inadvertently crept.--Do you often take a walk in this delectable

spot?"

 

"Yes, often, and at all hours, and I think the place delightful. Now we

are in the most arid part--the ground here is pure sand--now we are on

the stones again. Here there is a constant drip of sulphurous water,

and down there we have a block of rock in which there are petrified

shells. There are layers of slate over there. Do you hear that toad croaking? we are near the opening now; the rascal sits there every night; I know him quite well. He has a hoarse, slow voice."