Here Are the Last Thrilling Chapters of
SUNFIRE[1]
By FRANCIS STEVENS
A RESUME OF THE EARLY CHAPTERS
FIVE young Americans, in quest of adventure, land upon upon the strange island of Tata Quarahy, and there behold, in the hollow heart of an ancient pyramid, a hideous monster, somewhat like a gigantic centipede, dancing to the music of Pan's pipe, played by a beautiful woman. Following a series of harrowing adventures in the pyramid, during which they discover a mammoth diamond of incalculable value, the adventurers are trapped in a tomb, where, it seems, they are to be burned alive as a sacrifice to the native deity. Death by starvation, however, instead of this horrible fate, begins to threaten them, when their long waiting at last ends. Their keeper comes to them.
THE STORY CONTINUES FROM THIS POINT
CHAPTER NINE
AN UNWELCOME INVITATION
FOR comfort, there was little choice between sitting, lying down or standing on the cold, damp stones of their cramped quarters.
The heavy bronze shackles rasped the skin from their ankles in any position, and aching bones drove them to a continual uneasy shifting. But it so happened that Sigsbee was the only man on his feet when the keeper arrived.
There had been no warning sound of approach. The first notice the four other captives received was young Sigsbee's voice, breathing a husky word that brought them all clanking up in haste to their windows.
Into that single word Sigsbee had poured a reproach for trust betrayed, a shocked amazement that the betrayer should shamelessly reappear, a wholly youthful satisfaction in being able to address that expressive "You!" to the right person, which told them instantly that their "Blessed Damozel" of yestere'en was again with them.
The triangular openings were not large enough to permit the passage of a prisoner's head. Much as they would have liked to crane their necks for a first-hand view, they must rely on Sigsbee's report. A volley of harsh questions exploded down the line. Sigsbee's voice rose against them.
"Stop that, you fellows! You're frightening her. There—I told you. She's crying again. Now she'll go away. No, it's all right. She's passing my things through the window. Brave little girl! Now listen. fellows. I don't care what you think, this girl is not responsible for what happened."
"Oh, Lawdy!" groaned the deepest of the harsh voices. "He's hooked again! Wake up, Sig. With her own fair hands she poured the k.o. drops. She'll never weep her way into my heart again. Is any one with her?"
"No, she's alone. Listen, Waring. She's coming your way. If you aren't decently civil to her, I give you fair warning I'll—"
"You'll what? Butt your head against the wall? Oh, there you are, Susan!"
The harshest voice had lowered to a base growl, suggestive of the jaguar which had once worn Waring's costume. Into his range of vision, staggering beneath the weight of a heavy reed basket, had come their fair betrayer.
There was justification for almost any degree of bitterness. Young Sigsbee's reversal of judgment appeared mere weakness. And yet, either because he feared to anger or frighten away the source of supplies, or for some other reason, the correspondent's righteous wrath received no further expression just then. He was heard to mutter something about "more damn mangos," a less depreciative, "Bananas—better than nothing!" and a final, "Water at last, thank God!"—and then the slender food-bringer was dragging her basket along to the next cell.
At close range the girl could be seen only as she reached each captive's door. A little later, however, her task finished, the empty basket deserted, she drifted out into the general range of vision.
At the opening of that lane, which faced Tellifer's person, she paused. Silhouetted against the pale glow beyond, they saw her stand an instant, head bent, shoulders drooping, silent as always, by mere attitude suggesting a boundless, pitiful dejection. Then she moved slowly away.
Three minutes more, and Tellifer emerged from that unnatural speechlessness he had preserved all afternoon.
"She is gazing into the pit," he informed solemnly. "Now she has sunk to her knees beside one of the columns. She is weeping again, and she has much to mourn for! The human fiends whose servant she is are the inheritors of a truly monstrous crime."
"Let her weep!" The immediate presence removed, Waring's vindictiveness had revived. "Decoy. That's all Susan is. And we aren't the first. Not by a damn sight! Those boats-the airplane. Nothing but fruit and water for starving men. Monstrous crimes is right, TNT!"
The esthete sighed deeply. "The crimes to which you refer are trivial beside the far more shocking one which I am certain has been accomplished in this place. But no more of it. The subject is too dreadful. I am not a practical man. but has it struck none of you as strange that except for the one old woman whom Waring caught a glimpse of, we have as yet seen only the girl?"
- ↑ The first half of this story appeared in the July-August WEIRD TALES. A copy will be mailed by the publishers for twenty-five cents.
