cw.blackalibi-第44节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ed；　and　the　whole　thing　tilted　up　quite　easily；　on　a　sort　of　chain…brace　arrangement　on　the　underside。
　　He　shot　his　light　down　into　it；　to　reveal　a　narrow　oblong　pit；　with　breakneck　stone　steps　leading　down；　but　from　the　side；　not　lengthwise。　On　the　lowest　step　of　all　there　was　another　of　those　tiny　winking　points　of　light；　like　the　one　that　had　rested　in　his　palm　awhile　ago；　outside。
　　〃This　is　for　me；〃　he　told　himself　with　grim　conviction。
　　What　it　was；　where　it　went　to；　he　didn't　know；　only　that　she'd　e　this　way；　so　he　was　going　to　e　this　way；　too。　A　cold　long…buried　air　arose　in　his　face；　like　something　from　another　world；　as　he　disappeared　down　into　it　by　sections；　like　someone　being　swallowed　in　a　quicksand：　first　his　legs；　then　his　thighs；　then　his　middle。　Finally　it　closed　over　his　head。
　　There　was　a　tunnel　stretching　before　him；　almost　to　infinity；　it　seemed。　It　was　shored　at　the　sides　and　top　by　age…blackened　beams；　like　a　mine　shaft。　As　he　moved　along　it　eating　up　distance；　he　almost　received　the　impression　of　standing　still。　There　was　always　still　more　empty　blackness　out　there　ahead　of　the　furthermost　limits　of　the　beam　of　his　light。　Once　his　light　swam　over　the　droppings　of　some　animal；　weeks　old　and　half　dust。
　　So　it　had　been　down　in　here…at　one　time。
　　A　few　paces　farther　on　he　shied　suddenly；　gave　an　instinctive　quirk　to　the　gun　he　was　holding　in　readiness；　as　something　white　gleamed　out　at　him　unexpectedly。　It　was　a　bodiless　skull；　nestled　there　in　the　angle　of　one　of　the　shoring　beams；　grinning　teeth　to　ground　as　if　biting　it。　It　was　ivory　smooth　with　centuries　of　fleshlessness。
　　Then　just　when　he　thought　this　passage　was　never　going　to　reach　anywhere；　never　end；　his　light　head　suddenly　foreshortened；　deflected　upwards　by　steps　before　him　again。
　　Up　over　them　was　the　same　type　of　chained　trap　that　had　admitted　him　just　now　at　the　other　end。　He　put　his　foot　to　the　lowest　step；　and　then　stopped　for　a　moment。　Something　made　him　put　his　light　out　and　sheathe　it　in　the　waistband　of　his　trousers；　before　he　reached　upward　to　open　the　enclosure。　The　gun　he　retained。　He　knew　he　was　getting　near　the　end　of　the　trail　now。
　　It　lifted　without　any　more　recalcitrance　than　its　plement　at　the　other　end；　showing；　if　nothing　else；　that　both　had　seen　frequent　use　lately。　It　was　not；　though；　nor　could　it　be　expected　to　be；　pletely　noiseless。　It　whined　as　it　went　upward；　and　the　chains　jangled　as　they　stayed　it。
　　As　he　came　up　into　the　dark；　he　was　uncannily　aware　of　some　other　presence　near　him。　Some　bated　presence　that　had　detected　him　first；　and　was　holding　itself　craftily　motionless。　He　could　feel　the　skin　across　the　back　of　his　neck　tighten；　and　he　began　fanning　his　gun　warily　against　the　sightless　gloom　that　faced　him。　He　took　a　cautious　step　away　from　the　topmost　step。　Then　another。
　　A　current　of　air　set　in　flux　by　some　unseen　movement　near　him　reached　him　too　late。
　　The　bore　of　a　gun　ground　into　his　backbone　with　electrifying　lack　of　preliminary　and；　as　though　it　were　the　nozzle　of　a　powerful　vacuum　cleaner；　seemed　to　draw　him　from　behind　into　paralyzed　motionlessness。
　　A　hand；　as　cold　with　tension　and　deadly　purpose　as　his　own；　suddenly　came　to　rest　on　his；　took　away　the　gun。　A　surly　voice　breathed　close　to　his　ear；　〃　Quieto！　〃　Before　he　could　identify　it　further；　there　was　a　snap　and　a　light　flashed　on　full　in　his　face；　blinding　him。
　　Belmonte's　voice　suddenly　sounded；　full…tone。　〃My　God；　it's　you；　hombre！　I　nearly…〃
　　〃What　did　you　run　out　on　me　like　that　for？〃　the　American　railed　angrily。
　　〃Sh；　keep　your　voice　down！〃　the　other　cautioned。　He　handed　him　his　gun　back。　〃My　instinct　told　me　to　follow　that　carriage。　I　had　no　time　to　warn　you。　Even　so；　he　nearly　gave　me　the　slip。　When　I　finally　caught　up　with　it；　three　blocks　away　from　the　alley；　it　was　already　empty…〃
　　〃How　long　have　you　been　in　here？〃
　　〃Only　a　few　minutes　ahead　of　you。　I　was　only　beginning　to　look　around　when　I　heard　you　ing　up　through　the　trap…〃
　　〃What　is　it？　What　is　the　place　anyway？〃
　　〃It's　the　old　underground　dungeons　of　the　Inquisition。　That　must　have　been　a　secret　passage　they　built　in　the　old　days。　There's　dozens　and　dozens　of　little　cells；　it's　honeybed　with　them。　e　on；　I'll　show　you　how　far　I'd　gotten　when　you　interrupted　me。　Don't　make　any　noise；　he's　somewhere　down　around　here。〃
　　Although　they　had　been　anything　but　noiseless；　there　was　no　indication　that　anything　around　them　in　the　dark　had　heard…or　was　there　to　hear。　A　cautious　spurt　or　two　of　Manning's　torch　showed　him　what　Belmonte　had　presumably　already　discovered　for　himself　before　his　arrival：　that　they　were　in　a　crumbling；　vaulted　corridor；　squat　stone　pillars　every　few　yards　supporting　the　succession　of　arches　that　roofed　it。　Between　each　two　were　grim…looking　iron　doors。
　　〃You　take　this　side；　I'll　take　the　other；〃　Belmonte　breathed。
　　They　separated；　were　immediately　lost　to　one　another　in　the　gloom。　From　then　on　a　brief　flicker　of　torchlight　every　few　moments；　quickly　doused　again；　alternating　from　side　to　side；　marked　their　progress。　Occasionally　there　was　a　querulous　whimper　of　hinges；　but　many　of　the　iron　plaques　were　already　askew　from　age；　didn't　need　to　be　moved　at　all。　One　or　two　were　gone　entirely。　Behind　them　in　every　case；　were　mortar　and　packedearth　cubicles；　most　of　them　little　bigger　than　the　delayed…action　coffins　they　had　eventually　proved　to　be　for　their　inmates。
　　The　endless　succession　of　niches　holding　these　vents　unexpectedly　right…angled；　cut　across　to　meet　Belmonte's　side。　Meaning　this　catab　had　ended　here。　In　its　lateral　face　there　was　but　a　single　iron　door。　Manning　reached　it　first；　having　outdistanced　his　panion　in　the　forward　search。　The　cartwheel　of　his　light　lapped　over　it　momentarily；　then　quickly　dissolved　again。
　　He　shot　it　briefly　downward　at　the　floor；　in　a　signal　to　Belmonte。　The　latter　came　up　beside　him　in　the　dark。　Manning's　voice　was　less　than　a　whisper。　It　had　to　be　guessed　at。　〃Don't　make　any　noise。　Put　your　hand　to　this　one。〃
　　〃Warm。〃
　　〃Warmer　than　the　rest；　anyway；　they're　all　stone…cold。　Something　going　on　behind　it…〃
　　He　started　feeling　along　it　tenderly　with　splayed　fingers　for　the　old…fashioned　staple　grip　his　light　had　shown　him　before。　Before　he　could　plete　the　gesture；　Belmonte　had　elbowed　him　aside；　his　own　hand　was　on　it　instead。　There　was　a　dangerous　sort　of　quietness　about　the　South　American　all　at　once；　as　though　he'd　been　waiting　a　long　time　for　this　approaching　moment。
　　The　thing　swung　out　past　them　on　its　appointed　arc；　and　a　flash　of　unreality；　of　fantasy；　exploded　into　view。
　　It　was　that　their　minds；　conditioned　to　the　realistic；　couldn't　assimilate　what　their　eyes　were　trying　to　show　them。　This　must　have　been　the　torture　chamber　of　this　whole　cruel　place　of　correction　and　exorcism。　Against　the　wall　were　strange　outlines　that　the　modern　mind　had　no　names　for：　things　well　forgotten；　left　behind；　as　the　race　progressed　away　from　its　childish　delight　in　pulling　wings　off　flies。　Chains　hanging　like　fungi；　and　iron　girdles　riveted　into　the　wall；　and　a　thing　like　a　hand　printing　press；　to　cripple　the　straight　bones　nature　had　formed。
　　They　seemed　to　have　been　carried　back　four　hundred　years。　Beyond　that；　even；　into　the　nevernever　land　of　demonology　and　medieval　allegory。　The　place　was　in　use　again。
　　Again；　as　in　the　long　ago；　the　lurid　red　of　fire　glowed　within　the　stone　kiln　at　the　end　of　the　enclosure；　with　its　open　flue　above；　once　used　for　turning　iron　bars　red…hot　or　melting　dipperfuls　of　lead。　And　again；　as　in　the　long　ago；　the　subject　lay　senseless　atop　the　thick；　curved…top　block；　somewhat　similar　to　a　butcher's　chopping　block。　A　subject；　this　time；　in　a　twentieth…century　beaded　evening　gown；　or　the　tatters　that　were　left　of　it。　Legs　dangling　down　over　the　end　of　it；　one　silver　slipper　fallen　off　and　lying　on　the　floor。　Her　head　fell　back　the　other　way；　neck　arched；　hair　streaming　free　and　seeming　to　move　in　the　moving　firelight。
　　Between　her　and　it　was　poised　a　grotesque　silhouette。　Something　that　belonged　on　a　feudal　coat　of　arms。　An　upright　animal。　The　lion；　or　leopard；　rampant。　The　outline　of　the　cat　head　could　be　seen；　two　small　triangular　ears　thrusting　up。
　　The　two　feline　claws　were　poised　over　her　in　striking　position；　about　to　descend；　to　stroke；　softly；　gently　at　first；　just　tearing　the　remnants　of　clothing；　just　scratching　the　smooth　white　skin　below。　Then　faster；　faster；　deeper；　deeper；　as　the　frenzy　mounted…and　the　life…tide　welled　forth。
　　Manning　could　feel　his　senses　trying　to　darken　out；　in　some　form　of　vertigo　or　dizziness；　because　this　thing　wasn't　there；　wasn't　real；　so　that　when　his　faculties　cleared　again　it　would　be　gone。　Just　the　empty　unlit　chamber　would　be　there；　the　way　it　probably　was。　He　also　wanted　to　get　sick　for　a　minute；　because　animals　don't　stand　upright；　and　men…who　do…don't　have　short　pointed　ears　and　spade…shaped　feline　heads；　as　this　apparition　did。
　　A　voice　screamed　something　unintelligible；　but　not　from　over　there；　from　somewhere　close　beside　him。　A　revolver　shot　cracked；　and　he　thought　it　was　the　cleanest；　loveliest　sound　he'd　ever　heard。　The　thing；　whatever　i