The Classic Mystery Collection - Arthur Conan Doyle [6094]
It had been several hours since we had last eaten, and we decided to at once convey to the spies without our intentions concerning our prisoner. So we regaled ourselves with dried fish and water, taking care not to approach the king, who had rolled over on his side and lay facing us, looking for all the world, in the dim light, like a black dog crouched on the floor.
Harry relieved me at my post against the door, and I lay down to sleep. Desiree had seated herself beside him, and the low tones of their voices came to me as I lay on the couch (which Desiree had insisted I should occupy) in an indistinct, musical murmur. This for perhaps ten minutes; then I slept.
That became our routine. During the many weary hours that followed there was never a moment when one of us was not seated with his back against the stone across the doorway; we dared not trust our eyes. Usually Harry and Desiree watched together, and, when I relieved them, slept side by side on the couch.
Sometimes, when we were all awake, Desiree was left on guard alone; but Harry and I were never both asleep at the same time.
An estimate of the time we spent thus would be the wildest guess, for time was heavy and passed on leaden feet. But I should say we had been imprisoned for something like four days, possibly five, when the monotony came to an abrupt end.
I had come off watch, and Harry and Desiree had taken my place. Before I lay down I had taken some water to the prisoner, for we had some time before admitted the necessity of giving him drink. But of food he had had none.
Harry told me afterward that I had slept for two or three hours, but it seemed to me rather as many minutes, when I was awakened by the sound of his voice calling my name. Glancing at the doorway, I sprang to my feet.
The stone was slowly rising from the floor; already there was a space of a foot or more. Desiree and Harry stood facing it in silence.
"You have seen nothing?" I asked, joining them.
"Nothing," said Harry. "Here, take one of these clubs. Something's up."
"Of course--the stone," I observed facetiously, yawning. "Probably nothing more important than a bundle of quipos. Lord, I'm sleepy!"
Still the stone moved upward, very slowly. It reached a height of two feet, yet did not halt.
"This is no quipos" said Harry, "or if it is, they must be going to send us in a whole library. Six inches would have been enough for that."
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the ever-widening space at our feet.
"This means business, Hal. Stand ready with your club. Desiree, go to the further corner, behind that seat."
She refused; I insisted; she stamped her foot in anger.
"Do you think I'm a child, to run and hide?" she demanded obstinately.
I wasted no time in argument.
"You will go", I said sternly, "or I shall carry you and tie you. This is not play. We must have room and know that you are safe."
To my surprise, she made no reply, but quietly obeyed. Then, struck by a sudden thought, I crossed to where she stood behind a stone seat in the corner.
"Here," I said in a low tone, taking the little jeweled dagger from my pocket and holding it out to her, "in case--"
"I understand," she said simply, and her hand closed over the hilt.
By that time the stone was half-way to the top of the doorway, leaving a space over three feet high, and was still rising. I stood on one side and Harry on the other, not caring to expose ourselves immediately in front.
Suddenly he left his post and ran to one of the stone seats and began prying at the blocks of granite. I saw at once his intention and our mistake; we should have long before barricaded the door on the inside. But it was too late now; I knew from experience the difficulty of loosening those firmly wedged blocks,