I move forward, the road narrowed. Soon it was a narrow, winding trail, descended down. Fat crust ice covered the ground. I had to go ahead carefully, so as not to slip and not fall into the black splitting of the abyss. Despite the fatigue, I got to the foot on the mountains, climbed the trail looked over the cliffs and felt an inexplicable fear. Yes, indeed, this place was too gloomy. Probably, I climbed into such a height, which would not be solved by none of the locals, but to go deep into the gorge would be a suicide. I looked into a black emptiness. The rays of the sun did not penetrate there. Over the gorge hung a sinister silence. I had a long time in one place, not deciding to go down and unable to turn back. Suddenly, the sounds of mandolin came to me. Pleasant, quiet music. In this wilderness, it resembled the paradise tunes. But who can play mandolin among mountains and frozen paths? I was so fascinated that only after a few moments I realized that the sounds come from the depths of the gorge.
I went a little further and saw that the steps were cut down right in the mountain, they left the straight staircase down, right in the dark depth. I began to descend on solid steps. Just on the moment I was in complete darkness, but without difficulty, descending down, I saw the daylight again. Joyless, cold rays lit a high stone arch. The intricate ornament, as if bought it with the whole single-flowers garland from the flowers carved on the stone surface. On the frieze of the arch was engraved some inscription. The letters decorated with many curls seemed unfamiliar to me. As far as I could judge, the inscription was made in one of the ancient, now forgotten languages.
Passing under the arch, I was on the shore of a small reservoir. The rapid flow of the river brought to the shore a small shuttle. It seemed to me that I was sleeping. Does the bottom of the gorge can be so light and beautiful. I climbed into the shuttle, which as if was waiting for me. The course of the river itself suffered it forward. The shuttle sailed past gray monoliths and stony shores, then dived under the arcade. The river proceeded under the arches, as in a tunnel, at the end of which the light suddenly cut. Yes, at the very end of the arcade, the coast was seen, more precisely the wide of the staircase leading to the cave, the entrance to which was closed by a heavy velvet curtain. The folds of purple velvet rolled down, at the likeness of the tent, decorated with golden tassels.
I jumped out of the shuttle, ran up the steps and stopped in indecision. What awaits me there inside the cave? Maybe the people of Baron have not been afraid of this gorge without reason. After all, I hoped to come here and prove that there are no spirits here? But who then sent to me a shuttle? What if the robbers were in this cave? The last thought liked me more. likely. Robbers are just people from flesh and blood. With them you can fight on swords. It is better than a senseless fight against essential, malicious beings, which by legends are looking for a shelter in abandoned places.
I pulled the heavy curtain. The tassels swung with the rustle, the smoke of golden dust was swayed, and a small room appeared to my sight, from the floor to the ceiling trimmed with marble. I went inside. On the wall hung a carnival mask with elegant openings for the eyes and thin bulging of the nose. I removed it and tried out. The mask smoothly fell on the face, as if it was intended only for me.
In addition to the first entrance, there were three more arched openings with heavy velvet curtains decorated by the countless number of tassels. There was a n mirror on one of the walls. In front of it on a round console stood a slim elegant girl. She was dressed as if she was going to the ball. That’s just the lush rollers of the pink dress too much emphasized the deadly whiteness of her skin. In her right hand, she held an oval mirror and with a flirty smile examined her face in it. She had such thin, elegant features and at the same time, despite all the affectedness of her posture, the girl seemed lifeless. I approached nearer. Around the console stood candlesticks in the form of golden hands holding candles. Another step forward. The light fell on the elastic women’s curls, and I realized with horror that they were made of marble. Did I accepted the cold sculpture for a living person? Yes, and to whom it occurred to put on the statue of real muslin dress and stick into the marble fingers a manual mirror. This clothing was just a mockery above the talent of sculptor. In addition, near of it the statue looked sinister. A live smile on marble lips was washing the border between animated and empty. The sculpture again seemed to me alive. Probably located on such a manner of mirrors and candles it can create visual illusions.
«You have a similarity with the goddess,» I said the phrase from the poems, turning to the statue, and in this moment someone hurts me to elbow. I turned around. No one. Only from one of the aisles came the hurry steps. Raising the curtain, the boy slipped into the passage, most likely the page, although he was dressed too smart. In his hands he held a small mandolin. I was ready to swear that the strings were jerked by themselves, making a long-distance sound.
«Do not wake her!» came to me a frightened boyish voice. «She will wake up only tomorrow.»
The page dragged me from the statue. I continued to look at the sculpture. The boy pulled me over the sleeve.
«Let’s go, everyone already gathered in the hall,» he said.
Thin features of his face were somehow strained, a fold was laying between his eyebrows. The hair was assembled under the velvet beret. I noticed that his ears with pointed to the top ends were too long and do not combine with an elegant face.
«Come on!» He grabbed me at the lapel of sleeves and pulled insistently behind him. «Do you really want to skip such an event? The prince himself will take us today with his presence.»
Without keeping even my senses, he raised one curtain and pushed me into a huge half-walled room. There were no candles in the room. The dull rays of the light made their way through a large glass dome in the center of the ceiling. Thin marble columns lined up near the walls of the round hall. Several elegantly dressed ladies and cavaliers passed by me. They were in completely identical blue half masks. Of these, all I managed to dress a black mask. But I found it quite by chance. I was sure that I was confused with someone, so it is so kindly adopted on this strange collection of graceful, almost essential beings. And someone else’s mask, which I decided to try, allowed me to maintain incognito. This hall under the dome reminded me of an illustration from some novel. Its overwhelming sizes made an unpleasant impression on me. And it was worth only to look at the dome, as a noise in the ears began. A dizzying height can only be safe for those who have reliable wings and strength for flight.
I looked at the page more attentively. Undoubtedly, he was nice, but these sharp ears tips were an unpleasant addition to charming face. If I heard his music, he knew how to play well on mandolin. As if he felt that I was looking at him, he hurriedly moved away from me and stopped next to the lady, sitting on the sofa in the shade of the column.
«You don’t seem that we have a stranger here,» she turned directly to him. «I feel the presence of a person.»
«Strange, I didn’t feel anything,» the page responded. «Believe me, the person’s foot has not yet stepped into this place. People would pass by, without even noticing the steps leading to the gorge.»
I hurriedly stepped into the shadow. If I go now, then it will be a cowardly act. My hand did not want to release the handle of my sword for a moment.
Quiet, musical blows were heard under the dome, but the clock itself could not be seen. People in the hall became noticeably more. Some of them were talking among themselves in some unfamiliar to me language. I have already begun to get used to quiet, rustling voices, how suddenly all the conversations stopped, as if someone mighty and invisible came in. The curtain at the entrance raised itself, as from the gust of the wind, passing into the hall a man, the face and proud posture of which
