By the time we had struggled to our feet again
Ayesha was standing among us, and bidding us light the lamps, which
fortunately remained uninjured, as also did the spare jar of oil.
I got out my box of wax matches, and they struck as merrily, there, in
that awful place, as they could have done in a London drawing-room.
In a couple of minutes both the lamps were alight and revealed a curious
scene. We were huddled together in a rocky chamber, some ten feet
square, and scared enough we looked; that is, except Ayesha, who was
standing calmly with her arms folded, and waiting for the lamps to burn
up. The chamber appeared to be partly natural, and partly hollowed out
of the top of the cone. The roof of the natural part was formed of the
swinging stone, and that of the back part of the chamber, which sloped
downwards, was hewn from the live rock. For the rest, the place was warm
and dry--a perfect haven of rest compared to the giddy pinnacle above,
and the quivering spur that shot out to meet it in mid-air.
Pages:
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513