Page:Weird Tales volume 36 number 01.djvu/86

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112
WEIRD TALES

I had actually started to genuflect when Harvey cried:

"It is my Dream Woman at last!"

Simultaneously with his words came again that ominous rumble. Everything began to shake and the next thing I knew it seemed, as though the whole world was in upheaval. I was knocked off my feet and flung violently on the ground. The last thing I remember was Harvey falling too, and then I knew nothing more.

WHEN I regained consciousness, the first thing I saw was the space where the picture had been—blue sky with the red streaks of the setting sun across it. The picture and the altar had vanished, leaving a great gap in the mountainside. I looked for Harvey. He was lying close beside me. Somewhat unsteadily I gained my feet discovering I was badly shaken but not hurt. Just as I reached Harvey he opened his eyes.

"The picture?" he gasped.

"Gone. But it has left a way open for us. I think we'd better go before something else happens." I was curt. I couldn't help recalling what he had said before the upheaval hit us.

He groaned. "To think such beauty is destroyed."

As I remember those two beautiful faces, I agreed it was sacrilege but in my inmost heart I was glad. I hadn't yet stopped to figure out how finding the actual representation of his Dream Woman was going to affect our future. I only wanted to get away from the cave.

"Do you see green glittering there?" Harvey asked, pointing. He was on his feet now and I saw his forehead had a cut on it. I tied his handkerchief around it, and it and then followed the direction of his finger.

Where the altar had been there was something green shining.

"Perhaps it's part of the picture. We must save it if we can," Harvey said.

Together we walked over. There was nothing but debris everywhere in this part of the cave but in a hollowed-out section of the ground was a mound of green. I bent down and my fingers touched something cold and hard. I lifted it and discovered I had in my hands the necklace the woman in the picture had worn. Or its counterpart. The stones were uncut emeralds, strung on a gold chain which was knotted in between the stones.

"Her necklace! Irene, do you realize the significance of that? The painting was an actual person. She isn't a dream woman. She's real." I had never seen Harvey so excited.

"She was, you mean." I slipped the necklace over my head. The cool stone caressed my skin. "It's a lovely necklace."

"There's something else there." Harvey leaned over. When he straightened up he held the two belts of the picture in his hands. Made of heavy gold they were thickly entrusted with the gleaming emeralds.

He held up the smaller one. "To think this once touched her? He was like an East Indian devotee who had hypnotized himself.

I felt I must keep to sanity. "Let's hope it's not too small for me." I was matter-of-fact. "These stones, if genuine, must be worth a fortune and I'm sure they are real considering the picture and the ancient look of the altar."

Harvey caught hold of himself. "That was not Aztec work. There was no sign of leathered serpents or any of their symbols. It must have been even older. You are right. We must hide our find. The Mexicans might rob us or the government put in a claim." He handed me the smaller belt. I slipped it on underneath the sweater I wore over my riding breechs. Harvey did likewise with the larger one. Then I put the necklace under the sweater and taking off the bandanna I wore on my head