The Greatest Sci-Fi Books of Erle Cox. Erle Cox

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      Chapter XV

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      Dundas stood up and stepped towards the portico. Across the now-open doorway there hung a magnificent curtain that hid the interior from view. From lintel to step it hung in heavy shimmering lustrous folds of gorgeous colouring. Awed and expectant, he approached, then, with a hand that shook, he drew the veil aside and looked within. For a long time he stood motionless, a prey to a thousand surging emotions. Then, obeying an instinct he could not have explained, he bared his head, as, drawn by a resistless fascination, he crossed the threshold. His feet made no sound as they sank into a soft carpet. His eyes were blind to the exquisite wonder of his surroundings, where the roseate glow from the ceiling was shed on a scene of indescribable beauty. With fast-drawn breath and half-fearful steps he advanced to the middle of the temple, and there halted beside the one thing within it that held his gaze to the exclusion of all else. Midway from each end was placed a great crystal dome fully ten feet in diameter. It was set in a rim of dull gold that rose about twelve inches from the floor. Beneath the dome was a low couch of wondrous workmanship, and on the couch reclined the form of a woman.

      Minute after minute passed while Alan stood staring down through the crystal at the figure before him, as motionless as the figure itself. The only sound that passed his lips were the words that came as though torn from his soul: "My God! My God! How wonderful!" Through his brain raged a mad tornado of thoughts. He did not dare to let his mind dwell on the idea that flashed through it as he stood. It was mad, incredible, fantastic, beyond the realms of the most insane imaginings. His mind had perforce accepted the reality of every other part of the discovery, but was stopped by the vista that lay before it now. Long ago he had arrived at the certainty that the origin of the galleries in point of time could not be counted in thousands of years, but in millions. He had accepted the idea of the preservation of matter, organic and inorganic, but this–"No! No! a thousand times No!" The words came from his dry lips in a hoarse whisper. Yet as he uttered them, the wild thrill of hope that went through his heart seemed to give the lie to the words. He pressed his hands wildly to his eyes as though to shut out and crush down the hopes and the longings that were struggling for expression. His arms dropped heavily to his sides, and he looked once more at the wondrous form before him. As he did so, the certainty that this was no work of the craft of man came upon him with stunning force. He knew beyond all shadow of doubt that the glorious being before him was indeed human, and had lived. For the rest he dared not think.

      She was lying with her head pillowed on a large white cushion, that was almost hidden by the masses of deep gold hair that surrounded her face, and flowed downwards across her shoulder and bosom, and veiled almost to her knees the sapphire-coloured covering that was thrown across her body. Her arms, bare to the shoulder, lay straight beside her. Where the heavy waves of her hair parted on her shoulders Alan saw that she was clothed in a robe of palest blue, that came almost to her throat. The lapse of time had moulded the delicate fabrics that covered her to every line and contour of her form. But it was the face surrounded by its surging golden cloud that held his gaze entranced. It was not merely beautiful; it was lovely, with a loveliness that was not earthly. The dark shade of her straight, delicate brows, and the long lashes that rested on her cheeks, formed a strange and wonderful contrast to her gleaming hair. From her low, broad forehead to the smooth, polished curves of her chin and throat each feature was perfect and faultless. The hand of Venus herself might have fashioned the curves of the sweet alluring lips, and her wayward son might have wrought for years to place that sweet, shadowy smile upon them. It was a face that all the gods in Olympus might have held council over, to blend all their wisdom, mystery, majesty, and beauty, and mould them into the still countenance of the woman who lay enthroned beneath the crystal canopy. Yet the face seemed veiled, because the drooped lids hid the eyes that would light it into life. Over all was a pallor, but it was not that of death. There was a faint trace of pink on the smooth white cheeks, and a deeper tone on the soft, curving lips. It seemed like a spark of life that a touch might either extinguish for ever or build into an immortal flame.

      As his eyes wandered over the noble lines of her recumbent figure, Alan noticed that her body was worthy of the head it bore. Extended full length as she lay with her head slightly raised, she seemed far taller than the average woman, but perfectly proportioned. The sleeveless robe she wore was fastened on each shoulder with a plain, knotted ribbon of the same pale blue shade. About neither the throat nor the marble-white arms was any trace of jewel or ornament. There was no need for art to enhance the perfection of nature. The deep sapphire gold-fringed cover that trailed its lustrous folds to the floor on each side of the couch covered her body but little higher than her waist, and on it rested beside her the slender, delicate hands, and Alan's eyes, drinking in their white beauty, thought a man might well risk life and limb to press them to his lips but once.

      It was long before he was able to rouse himself from the trance that had fallen upon him, to turn his attention to anything besides the figure before him, or to bring the tumult of his thoughts into orderly array. Even when, in a measure, he was able to control his mind to working conditions, and try to make a closer examination of his surroundings, he was drawn again and again from his work to stand transfixed before the glorious mystery beneath the crystal dome.

      The dome itself was well worth attention. It appeared to be composed of the same remarkable substance as was the goblet in the art gallery that defied his efforts to destroy it. Its shape was that of a perfect hemisphere, and it was so fragile and delicate in appearance that it seemed as if the lightest touch would shatter it. Indeed so clear and limpid was it that it appeared as if a great bubble had floated down and settled on the gold rim that surrounded the couch. Inside the rim itself the pavement was uncarpeted, and the space showed an exquisite jewelled mosaic, more beautiful than any he had seen throughout his exploration.

      Alan walked slowly round the dome, and on the opposite side from where he had first stood he found a short heavy lever that evidently controlled some mechanism attached to the rim. He refrained from touching it for a score of reasons that came to his mind. He also found in convenient positions four grips that had evidently been fitted for the purpose of lifting the dome from its setting.

      When he was able to draw himself away from the enchanted spot he made a survey of the "temple," for "temple" it would always be to him, and as his eyes roamed round it, he admitted that the setting was truly worthy of the jewel. The builders seemed to have lavished on its interior decoration and fittings every refinement of the wonderful art they СКАЧАТЬ