CHAPTER XIV. IN THE GARDEN
It so happened that I met nobody at all; but I must confess that my luck was better than my management. As I came upon the beck, a new sound reached me with the swirl. It was the jingle of bit and bridle; the beat of hoofs came after; and I had barely time to fling myself flat, when two horsemen emerged from the plantation, riding straight towards me in the moonlight. If they continued on that course they could not fail to see me as they passed along the opposite bank. However, to my unspeakable relief, they were scarce clear of the trees when they turned their horses' heads, rode them through the water a good seventy yards from where I lay, and so away at a canter across country towards the road. On my hands and knees I had a good look at them as they bobbed up and down under the moon; and my fears subsided in astonished curiosity. For I have already boasted of my eyesight, and I could have sworn that neither Rattray nor any one of his guests was of the horsemen; yet the back and shoulders of one of these seemed somehow familiar to me. Not that I wasted many moments over the coincidence, for I had other things to think about as I ran on to the hall.
I found the rear of the building in darkness unrelieved from within; on the other hand, the climbing moon beat so full upon the garden wall, it was as though a lantern pinned me as I crept beneath it. In passing I thought I might as well try the gate; but Eva was right; it was locked; and that made me half inclined to distrust my eyes in the matter of the two horsemen, for whence could they have come, if not from the hall? In any case I was well rid of them. I now followed the wall some little distance, and then, to see over it, walked backwards until I was all but in the beck; and there, sure enough, shone my darling's candle, close as close against the diamond panes of her narrow, lofty window! It brought those ready tears back to my foolish, fevered eyes. But for sentiment there was no time, and every other emotion was either futile or premature. So I mastered my full heart, I steeled, my wretched nerves, and braced my limp muscles for the task that lay before them.
I had a garden wall to scale, nearly twice my own height, and without notch or cranny in the ancient, solid masonry. I stood against it on my toes, and I touched it with my finger-tips as high up as possible. Some four feet severed them from the coping that left only half a sky above my upturned eyes.
I do not know whether I have made it plain that the house was not surrounded by four walls, but merely filled a breach in one of the four, which nipped it (as it were) at either end. The back entrance was approachable enough, but barred or watched, I might be very sure. It is ever the vulnerable points which are most securely guarded, and it was my one comfort that the difficult way must also be the safe way, if only the difficulty could be overcome. How to overcome it was the problem. I followed the wall right round to the point at which it abutted on the tower that immured my love; the height never varied; nor could my hands or eyes discover a single foot-hole, ledge, or other means of mounting to the top.
Yet my hot head was full of ideas; and I wasted some minutes in trying to lift from its hinges a solid, six-barred, outlying gate, that my weak arms could hardly stir. More time went in pulling branches from the oak-trees about the beck, where the latter ran nearest to the moonlit wall. I had an insane dream of throwing a long forked branch over the coping, and so swarming up hand-over-hand. But even to me the impracticability of this plan came home at last. And there I stood in a breathless lather, much time and strength thrown away together; and the candle burning down for nothing in that little lofty window; and the running water swirling noisily over its stones at my back.
This was the only sound; the wind had died away; the moonlit valley lay as still as the dread old house in its midst but for the splash and gurgle of the beck. I fancied this grew louder as I paused and listened in my helplessness. All at once—was it the tongue of Nature telling me the way, or common gumption returning at the eleventh hour? I ran down to the water's edge, and could have shouted for joy. Great stones lay in equal profusion on bed and banks. I lifted one of the heaviest in both hands. I staggered with it to the wall. I came back for another; for some twenty minutes I was so employed; my ultimate reward a fine heap of boulders against the wall.
Then I began to build; then mounted my pile, clawing the wall to keep my balance. My fingers were still many inches from the coping. I jumped down and gave another ten minutes to the back-breaking work of carrying more boulders from the water to the wall. Then I widened my cairn below, so that I could stand firmly before springing upon the pinnacle with which I completed it. I knew well that this would collapse under me if I allowed my weight to rest more than an instant upon it. And so at last it did; but my fingers had clutched the coping in time; had grabbed it even as the insecure pyramid crumbled and left me dangling.
Instantly exerting what muscle I had left, and the occasion gave me, I succeeded in pulling myself up until my chin was on a level with my hands, when I flung an arm over and caught the inner coping. The other arm followed; then a leg; and at last I sat astride the wall, panting and palpitating, and hardly able to credit my own achievement. One great difficulty had been my huge revolver. I had been terribly frightened it might go off, and had finally used my cravat to sling it at the back of my neck. It had shifted a little, and I was working it round again, preparatory to my drop, when I saw the light suddenly taken from the window in the tower, and a kerchief waving for one instant in its place. So she had been waiting and watching for me all these hours! I dropped into the garden in a very ecstasy of grief and rapture, to think that I had been so long in coming to my love, but that I had come at last. And I picked myself up in a very frenzy of fear lest, after all, I should fail to spirit her from this horrible place.
Doubly desolate it looked in the rays of that bright October moon. Skulking in the shadow of the wall which had so long baffled me, I looked across a sharp border of shade upon a chaos, the more striking for its lingering trim design. The long, straight paths were barnacled with weeds; the dense, fine hedges, once prim and angular, had fattened out of all shape or form; and on the velvet sward of other days you might have waded waist high in rotten hay. Towards the garden end this rank jungle merged into a worse wilderness of rhododendrons, the tallest I have ever seen. On all this the white moon smiled, and the grim house glowered, to the eternal swirl and rattle of the beck beyond its walls.
Long enough I stood where I had dropped, listening with all my being for some other sound; but at last that great studded door creaked and shivered on its ancient hinges, and I heard voices arguing in the Portuguese tongue. It was poor Eva wheedling that black rascal José. I saw her in the lighted porch; the nigger I saw also, shrugging and gesticulating for all the world like his hateful master; yet giving in, I felt certain, though I could not understand a word that reached me.
And indeed my little mistress very soon sailed calmly out, followed by final warnings and expostulations hurled from the step: for the black stood watching her as she came steadily my way, now raising her head to sniff the air, now stooping to pluck up a weed, the very picture of a prisoner seeking the open air for its own sake solely. I had a keen eye apiece for them as I cowered closer to the wall, revolver in hand. But ere my love was very near me (for she would stand long moments gazing ever so innocently at the moon), her jailer had held a bottle to the light, and had beaten a retreat so sudden and so hasty that I expected him back every moment, and so durst not stir. Eva saw me, however, and contrived to tell me so without interrupting the air that she was humming as she walked.
“Follow me,” she sang, “only keep as you are, keep as you are, close to the wall, close to the wall.”
And on she strolled to her own tune, and came abreast of me without turning her head; so I crept in the shadow (my ugly weapon tucked out of sight), and she sauntered in the shine, until we came to the end of the garden, where the path turned at right angles, running behind the rhododendrons; once in their shelter, she halted and beckoned me, and next instant I had her hands in mine.
“At last!” was all that I could say for many a moment, as I stood there gazing into her dear eyes, no hero in my heroic hour, but the bigger love-sick fool than ever. “But quick—quick—quick!” I added, as she brought me to my senses by withdrawing her hands. “We've no time to lose.” And I looked wildly from wall to wall, only to find them as barren and inaccessible on this side as on the other.
“We have more time than you think,” were Eva's first words. “We can do nothing for half-an-hour.”
“Why not?”
“I'll tell you in a minute. How did you manage to get over?”
“Brought boulders from the beck, and piled 'em up till I could reach the top.”
I thought her eyes glistened.
“What patience!” she cried softly. “We must find a simpler way of getting out—and I think I have. They've all gone, you know, but José.”
“All three?”
“The captain has been gone all day.”
Then the other two must have been my horse-men, very probably in some disguise; and my head swam with the thought of the risk that I had run at the very moment when I thought myself safest. Well, I would have finished them both! But I did not say so to Eva. I did not mention the incident, I was so fearful of destroying her confidence in me. Apologizing, therefore, for my interruption, without explaining it, I begged her to let me hear her plan.
It was simple enough. There was no fear of the others returning before midnight; the chances were that they would be very much later; and now it was barely eleven, and Eva had promised not to stay out above half-an-hour. When it was up José would come and call her.
“It is horrid to have to be so cunning!” cried little Eva, with an angry shudder; “but it's no use thinking of that,” she was quick enough to add, “when you have such dreadful men to deal with, such fiends! And I have had all day to prepare, and have suffered till I am so desperate I would rather die to-night than spend another in that house. No; let me finish! José will come round here to look for me. But you and I will be hiding on the other side of these rhododendrons. And when we hear him here we'll make a dash for it across the long grass. Once let us get the door shut and locked in his face, and he'll be in a trap. It will take him some time to break in; time enough to give us a start; what's more, when he finds us gone, he'll do what they all used to do in any doubt.”
“What's that?”
“Say nothing till it's found out; then lie for their lives; and it was their lives, poor creatures on the Zambesi!” She was silent a moment, her determined little face hard—set upon some unforgotten horror. “Once we get away, I shall be surprised if it's found out till morning,” concluded Eva, without a word as to what I was to do with her; neither, indeed, had I myself given that question a moment's consideration.
“Then let's make a dash for it now!” was all I said or thought.
“No; they can't come yet, and José is strong and brutal, and I have heard how ill you are. That you should have come to me notwithstanding—” and she broke off with her little hands lying so gratefully on my shoulders, that I know not how I refrained from catching her then and there to my heart. Instead, I laughed and said that my illness was a pure and deliberate sharp, and my presence there its direct result. And such was the virtue in my beloved's voice, the magic of her eyes, the healing of her touch, that I was scarce conscious of deceit, but felt a whole man once more as we two stood together in the moonlight.
In a trance I stood there gazing into her brave young eyes. In a trance I suffered her to lead me by the hand through the rank, dense rhododendrons. And still entranced I crouched by her side near the further side, with only unkempt grass-plot and a weedy path between us and that ponderous door, wide open still, and replaced by a section of the lighted hail within. On this we fixed our attention with mingled dread and impatience, those contending elements of suspense; but the black was slow to reappear; and my eyes stole home to my sweet girl's face, with its glory of moonlit curls, and the eager, resolute, embittered look that put the world back two whole months, and Eva Denison upon the Lady Jermyn's poop, in the ship's last hours. But it was not her look alone; she had on her cloak, as the night before, but with me (God bless her!) she found no need to clasp herself in its folds; and underneath she wore the very dress in which she had sung at our last concert, and been rescued in the gig. It looked as though she had worn it ever since. The roses were crushed and soiled, the tulle all torn, and tarnished some strings of beads that had been gold: a tatter of Chantilly lace hung by a thread: it is another of the relics that I have unearthed in the writing of this narrative.
“I thought men never noticed dresses?” my love said suddenly, a pleased light in her eyes (I thought) in spite of all. “Do you really remember it?”
“I remember every one of them,” I said indignantly; and so I did.
“You will wonder why I wear it,” said Eva, quickly. “It was the first that came that terrible night. They have given me many since. But I won't wear one of them—not one!”
How her eyes flashed! I forgot all about José.
“I suppose you know why they hadn't room for you in the gig?” she went on.
“No, I don't know, and I don't care. They had room for you,” said I; “that's all I care about.” And to think she could not see I loved her!
“But do you mean to say you don't know that these—murderers—set fire to the ship?”
“No—yes! I heard you say so last night.”
“And you don't want to know what for?”
Out of politeness I protested that I did; but, as I live, all I wanted to know just then was whether my love loved me—whether she ever could—whether such happiness was possible under heaven!
“You remember all that mystery about the cargo?” she continued eagerly, her pretty lips so divinely parted!
“It turned out to be gunpowder,” said I, still thinking only of her.
“No—gold!”
“But it was gunpowder,” I insisted; for it was my incorrigible passion for accuracy which had led up to half our arguments on the voyage; but this time Eva let me off.
“It was also gold: twelve thousand ounces from the diggings. That was the real mystery. Do you mean to say you never guessed?”
“No, by Jove I didn't!” said I. She had diverted my interest at last. I asked her if she had known on board.
“Not until the last moment. I found out during the fire. Do you remember when we said good-by? I was nearly telling you then.”
Did I remember! The very letter of that last interview was cut deep in my heart; not a sleepless night had I passed without rehearsing it word for word and look for look; and sometimes, when sorrow had spent itself, and the heart could bleed no more, vain grief had given place to vainer speculation, and I had cudgelled my wakeful brains for the meaning of the new and subtle horror which I had read in my darling's eyes at the last. Now I understood; and the one explanation brought such a tribe in its train, that even the perilous ecstasy of the present moment was temporarily forgotten in the horrible past.
“Now I know why they wouldn't have me in the gig!” I cried softly.
“She carried four heavy men's weight in gold.”
“When on earth did they get it aboard?”
“In provision boxes at the last; but they had been filling the boxes for weeks.”
“Why, I saw them doing it!” I cried. “But what about the gig? Who picked you up?”
She was watching that open door once more, and she answered with notable indifference, “Mr. Rattray.”
“So that's the connection!” said I; and I think its very simplicity was what surprised me most.
“Yes; he was waiting for us at Ascension.”
“Then it was all arranged?”
“Every detail.”
“And this young blackguard is as bad as any of them!”
“Worse,” said she, with bitter brevity. Nor had I ever seen her look so hard but once, and that was the night before in the old justice hall, when she told Rattray her opinion of him to his face. She had now the same angry flush, the same set mouth and scornful voice; and I took it finally into my head that she was unjust to the poor devil, villain though he was. With all his villainy I declined to believe him as bad as the others. I told her so in as many words. And in a moment we were arguing as though we were back on the Lady Jermyn with nothing else to do.
“You may admire wholesale murderers and thieves,” said Eva. “I do not.”
“Nor I. My point is simply that this one is not as bad as the rest. I believe he was really glad for my sake when he discovered that I knew nothing of the villainy. Come now, has he ever offered you any personal violence?”
“Me? Mr. Rattray? I should hope not, indeed!”
“Has he never saved you from any?”
“I—I don't know.”
“Then I do. When you left them last night there was some talk of bringing you back by force. You can guess who suggested that—and who set his face against it and got his way. You would think the better of Rattray had you heard what passed.”
“Should I?” she asked half eagerly, as she looked quickly round at me; and suddenly I saw her eyes fill. “Oh, why will you speak about him?” she burst out. “Why must you defend him, unless it's to go against me, as you always did and always will! I never knew anybody like you—never! I want you to take me away from these wretches, and all you do is to defend them!”
“Not all,” said I, clasping her hand warmly in mine. “Not all—not all! I will take you away from them, never fear; in another hour God grant you may be out of their reach for ever!”
“But where are we to go?” she whispered wildly. “What are you to do with me? All my friends think me dead, and if they knew I was not it would all come out.”
“So it shall,” said I; “the sooner the better; if I'd had my way it would all be out already.”
I see her yet, my passionate darling, as she turned upon me, whiter than the full white moon.
“Mr. Cole,” said she, “you must give me your sacred promise that so far as you are concerned, it shall never come out at all!”
“This monstrous conspiracy? This cold blooded massacre?”
And I crouched aghast.
“Yes; it could do no good; and, at any rate, unless you promise I remain where I am.”
“In their hands?”
“Decidedly—to warn them in time. Leave them I would, but betray them—never!”
What could I say? What choice had I in the face of an alternative so headstrong and so unreasonable? To rescue Eva from these miscreants I would have let every malefactor in the country go unscathed: yet the condition was a hard one; and, as I hesitated, my love went on her knees to me, there in the moonlight among the rhododendrons.
“Promise—promise—or you will kill me!” she gasped. “They may deserve it richly, but I would rather be torn in little pieces than—than have them—hanged!”
“It is too good for most of them.”
“Promise!”
“To hold my tongue about them all?”
“Yes—promise!”
“Promise!”
“When a hundred lives were sacrificed—”
“Promise!”
“I can't,” I said. “It's wrong.”
“Then good-by!” she cried, starting to her feet.
“No—no—” and I caught her hand.
“Well, then?”
“I—promise.”
CHAPTER XV. FIRST BLOOD
So I bound myself to a guilty secrecy for Eva's sake, to save her from these wretches, or if you will, to win her for myself. Nor did it strike me as very strange, after a moment's reflection, that she should intercede thus earnestly for a band headed by her own mother's widower, prime scoundrel of them all though she knew him to be. The only surprise was that she had not interceded in his name; that I should have forgotten, and she should have allowed me to forget, the very existence of so indisputable a claim upon her loyalty. This, however, made it a little difficult to understand the hysterical gratitude with which my unwilling promise was received. Poor darling! she was beside herself with sheer relief. She wept as I had never seen her weep before. She seized and even kissed my hands, as one who neither knew nor cared what she did, surprising me so much by her emotion that this expression of it passed unheeded. I was the best friend she had ever had. I was her one good friend in all the world; she would trust herself to me; and if I would but take her to the convent where she had been brought up, she would pray for me there until her death, but that would not be very long.
All of which confused me utterly; it seemed an inexplicable breakdown in one who had shown such nerve and courage hitherto, and so hearty a loathing for that damnable Santos. So completely had her presence of mind forsaken her that she looked no longer where she had been gazing hitherto. And thus it was that neither of us saw José until we heard him calling, “Senhora Evah! Senhora Evah!” with some rapid sentences in Portuguese.
“Now is our time,” I whispered, crouching lower and clasping a small hand gone suddenly cold. “Think of nothing now but getting out of this. I'll keep my word once we are out; and here's the toy that's going to get us out.” And I produced my Deane and Adams with no small relish.
A little trustful pressure was my answer and my reward; meanwhile the black was singing out lustily in evident suspicion and alarm.
“He says they are coming back,” whispered Eva; “but that's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because if they were he couldn't see them, and if he heard them he would be frightened of their hearing him. But here he comes!”
A shuffling quick step on the path; a running grumble of unmistakable threats; a shambling moonlit figure seen in glimpses through the leaves, very near us for an instant, then hidden by the shrubbery as he passed within a few yards of our hiding-place. A diminuendo of the shuffling steps; then a cursing, frightened savage at one end of the rhododendrons, and we two stealing out at the other, hand in hand, and bent quite double, into the long neglected grass.
“Can you run for it?” I whispered.
“Yes, but not too fast, for fear we trip.'
“Come on, then!”
The lighted open doorway grew greater at every stride.
“He hasn't seen us yet—”
“No, I hear him threatening me still.”
“Now he has, though!”
A wild whoop proclaimed the fact, and upright we tore at top speed through the last ten yards of grass, while the black rushed down one of the side paths, gaining audibly on us over the better ground. But our start had saved us, and we flew up the steps as his feet ceased to clatter on the path; he had plunged into the grass to cut off the corner.
“Thank God!” cried Eva. “Now shut it quick.”
The great door swung home with a mighty clatter, and Eva seized the key in both hands.
“I can't turn it!”
To lose a second was to take a life, and unconsciously I was sticking at that, perhaps from no higher instinct than distrust of my aim. Our pursuer, however, was on the steps when I clapped my free hand on top of those little white straining ones, and by a timely effort bent both them and the key round together; the ward shot home as José hurled himself against the door. Eva bolted it. But the thud was not repeated, and I gathered myself together between the door and the nearest window, for by now I saw there was but one thing for us. The nigger must be disabled, if I could manage such a nicety; if not, the devil take his own.
Well, I was not one tick too soon for him. My pistol was not cocked before the crash came that I was counting on, and with it a shower of small glass driving across the six-foot sill and tinkling on the flags. Next came a black and bloody face, at which I could not fire. I had to wait till I saw his legs, when I promptly shattered one of them at disgracefully short range. The report was as deafening as one upon the stage; the hall filled with white smoke, and remained hideous with the bellowing of my victim. I searched him without a qualm, but threats of annihilation instead, and found him unarmed but for that very knife which Rattray had induced me to hand over to him in town. I had a grim satisfaction in depriving him of this, and but small compunction in turning my back upon his pain.
“Come,” I said to poor Eva, “don't pity him, though I daresay he's the most pitiable of the lot; show me the way through, and I'll follow with this lamp.”
One was burning on the old oak table. I carried it along a narrow passage, through a great low kitchen where I bumped my head against the black oak beams; and I held it on high at a door almost as massive as the one which we had succeeded in shutting in the nigger's face.
“I was afraid of it!” cried Eva, with a sudden sob.
“What is it?”
“They've taken away the key!”
Yes, the keen air came through an empty keyhole; and my lamp, held close, not only showed that the door was locked, but that the lock was one with which an unskilled hand might tamper for hours without result. I dealt it a hearty kick by way of a test. The heavy timber did not budge; there was no play at all at either lock or hinges; nor did I see how I could spend one of my four remaining bullets upon the former, with any chance of a return.
“Is this the only other door?”
“Then it must be a window.”
“All the back ones are barred.”
“Securely?”
“Yes.”
“Then we've no choice in the matter.”
And I led the way back to the hall, where the poor black devil lay blubbering in his blood. In the kitchen I found the bottle of wine (Rattray's best port, that they were trying to make her take for her health) with which Eva had bribed him, and I gave it to him before laying hands on a couple of chairs.
“What are you going to do?”'
“Go out the way we came.”
“But the wall?”
“Pile up these chairs, and as many more as we may need, if we can't open the gate.”
But Eva was not paying attention any longer, either to me or to José; his white teeth were showing in a grin for all his pain; her eyes were fixed in horror on the floor.
“They've come back,” she gasped. “The underground passage! Hark—hark!”
There was a muffled rush of feet beneath our own, then a dull but very distinguishable clatter on some invisible stair.
“Underground passage!” I exclaimed, and in my sheer disgust I forgot what was due to my darling. “Why on earth didn't you tell me of it before?”
“There was so much to tell you! It leads to the sea. Oh, what shall we do? You must hide—upstairs—anywhere!” cried Eva, wildly. “Leave them to me—leave them to me.”
“I like that,” said I; and I did; but I detested myself for the tears my words had drawn, and I prepared to die for them.
“They'll kill you, Mr. Cole!”
“It would serve me right; but we'll see about it.”
And I stood with my revolver very ready in my right hand, while with the other I caught poor Eva to my side, even as a door flew open, and Rattray himself burst upon us, a lantern in his hand, and the perspiration shining on his handsome face in its light.
I can see him now as he stood dumfounded on the threshold of the hall; and yet, at the time, my eyes sped past him into the room beyond.
It was the one I have described as being lined with books; there was a long rent in this lining, where the books had opened with a door, through which Captain Harris, Joaquin Santos, and Jane Braithwaite followed Rattray in quick succession, the men all with lanterns, the woman scarlet and dishevelled even for her. It was over the squire's shoulders I saw their faces; he kept them from passing him in the doorway by a free use of his elbows; and when I looked at him again, his black eyes were blazing from a face white with passion, and they were fixed upon me.
“What the devil brings you here?” he thundered at last.
“Don't ask idle questions,” was my reply to that.
“So you were shamming to-day!”
“I was taking a leaf out of your book.”
“You'll gain nothing by being clever!” sneered the squire, taking a threatening step forward. For at the last moment I had tucked my revolver behind my back, not only for the pleasure, but for the obvious advantage of getting them all in front of me and off their guard. I had no idea that such eyes as Rattray's could be so fierce: they were dancing from me to my companion, whom their glitter frightened into an attempt to disengage herself from me; but my arm only tightened about her drooping figure.
“I shall gain no more than I expect,” said I, carelessly. “And I know what to expect from brave gentlemen like you! It will be better than your own fate, at all events; anything's better than being taken hence to the place of execution, and hanged by the neck until you're dead, all three of you in a row, and your bodies buried within the precincts of the prison!”
“The very thing for him,” murmured Santos. “The—very—theeng!”
“But I'm so soft-hearted,” I went insanely on, “that I should be sorry to see that happen to such fine fellows as you are. Come out of that, you little fraud behind there!” It was my betrayer skulking in the room. “Come out and line up with the rest! No, I'm not going to see you fellows dance on nothing; I've another kind of ball apiece for you, and one between 'em for the Braithwaites!”
Well, I suppose I always had a nasty tongue in me, and rather enjoyed making play with it on provocation; but, if so, I met with my deserts that night. For the nigger of the Lady Jermyn lay all but hid behind Eva and me; if they saw him at all, they may have thought him drunk; but, as for myself, I had fairly forgotten his existence until the very moment came for showing my revolver, when it was twisted out of my grasp instead, and a ball sang under my arm as the brute fell back exhausted and the weapon clattered beside him. Before I could stoop for it there was a dead weight on my left arm, and Squire Rattray was over the table at a bound, with his arms jostling mine beneath Eva Denison's senseless form.
“Leave her to me,” he cried fiercely. “You fool,” he added in a lower key, “do you think I'd let any harm come to her?”
I looked him in the bright and honest eyes that had made me trust him in the beginning. And I did not utterly distrust him yet. Rather was the guile on my side as I drew back and watched Rattray lift the young girl tenderly, and slowly carry her to the door by which she had entered and left the hall just twenty-four hours before. I could not take my eyes off them till they were gone. And when I looked for my revolver, it also had disappeared.
José had not got it—he lay insensible. Santos was whispering to Harris. Neither of them seemed armed. I made sure that Rattray had picked it up and carried it off with Eva. I looked wildly for some other weapon. Two unarmed men and a woman were all I had to deal with, for Braithwaite had long since vanished. Could I but knock the worthless life out of the men, I should have but the squire and his servants to deal with; and in that quarter I still had my hopes of a bloodless battle and a treaty of war.
A log fire was smouldering in the open grate. I darted to it, and had a heavy, half-burned brand whirling round my head next instant. Harris was the first within my reach. He came gamely at me with his fists. I sprang upon him, and struck him to the ground with one blow, the sparks flying far and wide as my smoking brand met the seaman's skull. Santos was upon me next instant, and him, by sheer luck, I managed to serve the same; but I doubt whether either man was stunned; and I was standing ready for them to rise, when I felt myself seized round the neck from behind, and a mass of fluffy hair tickling my cheek, while a shrill voice set up a lusty scream for the squire.
I have said that the woman Braithwaite was of a sinister strength; but I had little dreamt how strong she really was. First it was her arms that wound themselves about my neck, long, sinuous, and supple as the tentacles of some vile monster; then, as I struggled, her thumbs were on my windpipe like pads of steel. Tighter she pressed, and tighter yet. My eyeballs started; my tongue lolled; I heard my brand drop, and through a mist I saw it picked up instantly. It crashed upon my skull as I still struggled vainly; again and again it came down mercilessly in the same place; until I felt as though a sponge of warm water had been squeezed over my head, and saw a hundred withered masks grinning sudden exultation into mine; but still the lean arm whirled, and the splinters flew, till I was blind with my blood and the seven senses were beaten out of me.
CHAPTER XVI. A DEADLOCK
It must have been midnight when I opened my eyes; a clock was striking as though it never would stop. My mouth seemed fire; a pungent flavor filled my nostrils; the wineglass felt cold against my teeth. “That's more like it!” muttered a voice close to my ear. An arm was withdrawn from under my shoulders. I was allowed to sink back upon some pillows. And now I saw where I was. The room was large and poorly lighted. I lay in my clothes on an old four-poster bed. And my enemies were standing over me in a group.
“I hope you are satisfied!” sneered Joaquin Santos, with a flourish of his eternal cigarette.
“I am. You don't do murder in my house, wherever else you may do it.”
“And now better lid 'im to the nirrest polissstation; or weel you go and tell the poliss yourself?” asked the Portuguese, in the same tone of mordant irony.
“Ay, ay,” growled Harris; “that's the next thing!”
“No,” said Rattray; “the next thing's for you two to leave him to me.”
“We'll see you damned!” cried the captain.
“No, no, my friend,” said Santos, with a shrug; “let him have his way. He is as fond of his skeen as you are of yours; he'll come round to our way in the end. I know this Senhor Cole. It is necessary for 'im to die. But it is not necessary this moment; let us live them together for a leetle beet.”
“That's all I ask,” said Rattray.
“You won't ask it twice,” rejoined Santos, shrugging. “I know this Senhor Cole. There is only one way of dilling with a man like that. Besides, he 'as 'alf-keeled my good José; it is necessary for 'im to die.”
“I agree with the senhor,” said Harris, whose forehead was starred with sticking-plaster. “It's him or us, an' we're all agen you, squire. You'll have to give in, first or last.”
And the pair were gone; their steps grew faint in the corridor; when we could no longer hear them, Rattray closed the door and quietly locked it. Then he turned to me, stern enough, and pointed to the door with a hand that shook.
“You see how it is?”
“Perfectly.”
“They want to kill you!”
“Of course they do.”
“It's your own fault; you've run yourself into this. I did my best to keep you out of it. But in you come, and spill first blood.”
“I don't regret it,” said I.
“Oh, you're damned mule enough not to regret anything!” cried Rattray. “I see the sort you are; yet but for me, I tell you plainly, you'd be a dead man now.”
“I can't think why you interfered.”
“You've heard the reason. I won't have murder done here if I can prevent it; so far I have; it rests with you whether I can go on preventing it or not.”
“With me, does it?”
He sat down on the side of the bed. He threw an arm to the far side of my body, and he leaned over me with savage eyes now staring into mine, now resting with a momentary gleam of pride upon my battered head. I put up my hand; it lit upon a very turban of bandages, and at that I tried to take his hand in mine. He shook it off, and his eyes met mine more fiercely than before.
“See here, Cole,” said he; “I don't know how the devil you got wind of anything to start with, and I don't care. What I do know is that you've made bad enough a long chalk worse for all concerned, and you'll have to get yourself out of the mess you've got yourself into, and there's only one way. I suppose Miss Denison has really told you everything this time? What's that? Oh, yes, she's all right again; no thanks to you. Now let's hear what she did tell you. It'll save time.”
I repeated the hurried disclosures made by Eva in the rhododendrons. He nodded grimly in confirmation of their truth.
“Yes, those are the rough facts. The game was started in Melbourne. My part was to wait at Ascension till the Lady Jermyn signalled herself, follow her in a schooner we had bought and pick up the gig with the gold aboard. Well, I did so; never mind the details now, and never mind the bloody massacre the others had made of it before I came up. God knows I was never a consenting party to that, though I know I'm responsible. I'm in this thing as deep as any of them. I've shared the risks and I'm going to share the plunder, and I'll swing with the others if it ever comes to that. I deserve it hard enough. And so here we are, we three and the nigger, all four fit to swing in a row, as you were fool enough to tell us; and you step in and find out everything. What's to be done? You know what the others want to do. I say it rests with you whether they do it or not. There's only one other way of meeting the case.”
“What's that?”
“Be in it yourself, man! Come in with me and split my share!”
I could have burst out laughing in his handsome, eager face; the good faith of this absurd proposal was so incongruously apparent; and so obviously genuine was the young villain's anxiety for my consent. Become accessory after the fact in such a crime! Sell my silence for a price! I concealed my feelings with equal difficulty and resolution. I had plans of my own already, but I must gain time to think them over. Nor could I afford to quarrel with Rattray meanwhile.
“What was the haul?” I asked him, with the air of one not unprepared to consider the matter.
“Twelve thousand ounces!”
“Forty-eight thousand pounds, about?”
“Yes-yes.”
“And your share?”
“Fourteen thousand pounds. Santos takes twenty, and Harris and I fourteen thousand each.”
“And you offer me seven?”
“I do! I do!”
He was becoming more and more eager and excited. His eyes were brighter than I had ever seen them, but slightly bloodshot, and a coppery flush tinged his clear, sunburnt skin. I fancied he had been making somewhat free with the brandy. But loss of blood had cooled my brain; and, perhaps, natural perversity had also a share in the composure which grew upon me as it deserted my companion.
“Why make such a sacrifice?” said I, smiling. “Why not let them do as they like?”
“I've told you why! I'm not so bad as all that. I draw the line at bloody murder! Not a life should have been lost if I'd had my way. Besides, I've done all the dirty work by you, Cole; there's been no help for it. We didn't know whether you knew or not; it made all the difference to us; and somebody had to dog you and find out how much you did know. I was the only one who could possibly do it. God knows how I detested the job! I'm more ashamed of it than of worse things. I had to worm myself into your friendship; and, by Jove, you made me think you did know, but hadn't let it out, and might any day. So then I got you up here, where you would be in our power if it was so; surely you can see every move? But this much I'll swear—I had nothing to do with José breaking into your room at the hotel; they went behind me there, curse them! And when at last I found out for certain, down here, that you knew nothing after all, I was never more sincerely thankful in my life. I give you my word it took a load off my heart.”
“I know that,” I said. “I also know who broke into my room, and I'm glad I'm even with one of you.”
“It's done you no good,” said Rattray. “Their first thought was to put you out of the way, and it's more than ever their last. You see the sort of men you've got to deal with; and they're three to one, counting the nigger; but if you go in with me they'll only be three to two.”
He was manifestly anxious to save me in this fashion. And I suppose that most sensible men, in my dilemma, would at least have nursed or played upon good-will so lucky and so enduring. But there was always a twist in me that made me love (in my youth) to take the unexpected course; and it amused me the more to lead my young friend on.
“And where have you got this gold?” I asked him, in a low voice so promising that he instantly lowered his, and his eyes twinkled naughtily into mine.
“In the old tunnel that runs from this place nearly to the sea,” said he. “We Rattrays have always been a pretty warm lot, Cole, and in the old days we were the most festive smugglers on the coast; this tunnel's a relic of 'em, although it was only a tradition till I came into the property. I swore I'd find it, and when I'd done so I made the new connection which you shall see. I'm rather proud of it. And I won't say I haven't used the old drain once or twice after the fashion of my rude forefathers; but never was it such a godsend as it's been this time. By Jove, it would be a sin if you didn't come in with us, Cole; but for the lives these blackguards lost the thing's gone splendidly; it would be a sin if you went and lost yours, whereas, if you come in, the two of us would be able to shake off those devils: we should be too strong for 'em.”
“Seven thousand pounds!” I murmured. “Forty-eight thousand between us!”
“Yes, and nearly all of it down below, at this end of the tunnel, and the rest where we dropped it when we heard you were trying to bolt. We'd got it all at the other end, ready to pop aboard the schooner that's lying there still, if you turned out to know anything and to have told what you knew to the police. There was always the possibility of that, you see; we simply daren't show our noses at the bank until we knew how much you knew, and what you'd done or were thinking of doing. As it is, we can take 'em the whole twelve thousand ounces, or rather I can, as soon as I like, in broad daylight. I'm a lucky digger. It's all right. Everybody knows I've been out there. They'll have to pay me over the counter; and if you wait in the cab, by the Lord Harry, I'll pay you your seven thousand first! You don't deserve it, Cole, but you shall have it, and between us we'll see the others to blazes!”
He jumped up all excitement, and was at the door next instant.
“Stop!” I cried. “Where are you going?”
“Downstairs to tell them.”
“Tell them what?”
“That you're going in with me, and it's all right.”
“And do you really think I am?”
He had unlocked the door; after a pause I heard him lock it again. But I did not see his face until he returned to the bedside. And then it frightened me. It was distorted and discolored with rage and chagrin.
“You've been making a fool of me!” he cried fiercely.
“No, I have been considering the matter, Rattray.”
“And you won't accept my offer?”
“Of course I won't. I didn't say I'd been considering that.”
He stood over me with clenched fists and starting eyes.
“Don't you see that I want to save your life?” he cried. “Don't you see that this is the only way? Do you suppose a murder more or less makes any difference to that lot downstairs? Are you really such a fool as to die rather than hold your tongue?”
“I won't hold it for money, at all events,” said I. “But that's what I was coming to.”
“Very well!” he interrupted. “You shall only pretend to touch it. All I want is to convince the others that it's against your interest to split. Self-interest is the one motive they understand. Your bare word would be good enough for me.”
“Suppose I won't give my bare word?” said I, in a gentle manner which I did not mean to be as irritating as it doubtless was. Yet his proposals and his assumptions were between them making me irritable in my turn.
“For Heaven's sake don't be such an idiot, Cole!” he burst out in a passion. “You know I'm against the others, and you know what they want, yet you do your best to put me on their side! You know what they are, and yet you hesitate! For the love of God be sensible; at least give me your word that you'll hold your tongue for ever about all you know.”
“All right,” I said. “I'll give you my word—my sacred promise, Rattray—on one condition.”
“What's that?”
“That you let me take Miss Denison away from you, for good and all!”
His face was transformed with fury: honest passion faded from it and left it bloodless, deadly, sinister.
“Away from me?” said Rattray, through his teeth.
“From the lot of you.”
“I remember! You told me that night. Ha, ha, ha! You were in love with her—you—you!”
“That has nothing to do with it,” said I, shaking the bed with my anger and my agitation.
“I should hope not! You, indeed, to look at her!”
“Well,” I cried, “she may never love me; but at least she doesn't loathe me as she loathes you—yes, and the sight of you, and your very name!”
So I drew blood for blood; and for an instant I thought he was going to make an end of it by incontinently killing me himself. His fists flew out. Had I been a whole man on my legs, he took care to tell me what he would have done, and to drive it home with a mouthful of the oaths which were conspicuously absent from his ordinary talk.
“You take advantage of your weakness, like any cur,” he wound up.
“And you of your strength—like the young bully you are!” I retorted.
“You do your best to make me one,” he answered bitterly. “I try to stand by you at all costs. I want to make amends to you, I want to prevent a crime. Yet there you lie and set your face against a compromise; and there you lie and taunt me with the thing that's gall and wormwood to me already. I know I gave you provocation. And I know I'm rightly served. Why do you suppose I went into this accursed thing at all? Not for the gold, my boy, but for the girl! So she won't look at me. And it serves me right. But—I say—do you really think she loathes me, Cole?”
“I don't see how she can think much better of you than of the crime in which you've had a hand,” was my reply, made, however, with as much kindness as I could summon. “The word I used was spoken in anger,” said I; for his had disappeared; and he looked such a miserable, handsome dog as he stood there hanging his guilty head—in the room, I fancied, where he once had lain as a pretty, innocent child.
“Cole,” said he, “I'd give twice my share of the damned stuff never to have put my hand to the plough; but go back I can't; so there's an end of it.”
“I don't see it,” said I. “You say you didn't go in for the gold? Then give up your share; the others'll jump at it; and Eva won't think the worse of you, at any rate.”
“But what's to become of her if I drop out?
“You and I will take her to her friends, or wherever she wants to go.”
“No, no!” he cried. “I never yet deserted my pals, and I'm not going to begin.”
“I don't believe you ever before had such pals to desert,” was my reply to that. “Quite apart from my own share in the matter, it makes me positively sick to see a fellow like you mixed up with such a crew in such a game. Get out of it, man, get out of it while you can! Now's your time. Get out of it, for God's sake!”
I sat up in my eagerness. I saw him waver. And for one instant a great hope fluttered in my heart. But his teeth met. His face darkened. He shook his head.
“That's the kind of rot that isn't worth talking, and you ought to know it,” said he. “When I begin a thing I go through with it, though it lands me in hell, as this one will. I can't help that. It's too late to go back. I'm going on and you're going with me, Cole, like a sensible chap!”
I shook my head.
“Only on the one condition.”
“You—stick—to—that?” he said, so rapidly that the words ran into one, so fiercely that his decision was as plain to me as my own.
“I do,” said I, and could only sigh when he made yet one more effort to persuade me, in a distress not less apparent than his resolution, and not less becoming in him.
“Consider, Cole, consider!”
“I have already done so, Rattray.”
“Murder is simply nothing to them!”
“It is nothing to me either.”
“Human life is nothing!”
“No; it must end one day.”
“You won't give your word unconditionally?”
“No; you know my condition.”
He ignored it with a blazing eye, his hand upon the door.
“You prefer to die, then?” “Infinitely.”
“Then die you may, and be damned to you!”