Blind Corner and Perishable Goods Page 9

  Hanbury had freed me, and I was wrestling with his bonds, when a faint light began to appear within the well.

  This horrified us both, for we thought, of course, that it was that of Mansel’s torch; and that he should show a light which could assist none but his foes was not his way. Indeed, we now fully expected any moment to hear him address us, and ask why on earth we had kept him waiting so long.

  The glow in the well was very definite when at last I had Hanbury free, and at once we crept out of the wood and began to crawl by its edge towards the house.

  I was in front, and going as fast as I dared, when I came face to face with Bell, who was crawling the opposite way. The first I knew of it was the barrel of a pistol pressed tight against my temple, for he had seen me coming, and had not known who it was.

  Then, lying there, I told him as much as I knew, and he said that Carson and Rowley had taken up positions on either side of the path. He was to crawl to where he could see and hear what was going on at the well, and, at a flash from his torch the three were to count two seconds and then open fire. The idea was to drive the thieves into the combe into which the gutter ran, but at any cost to keep them away from the house and out of the two woods, for that would give a chance of rescue to the occupant of the well.

  I at once fell in with his plan, whereupon we decided that I should take his place. He, therefore, gave me his torch and one of the pistols he had, and, when I had arranged for him to give his other to Hanbury, and then return to Carson. I went about. As I passed Hanbury, I told him that Bell was there and, when he had got his pistol, to stay where he was.

  I had hardly done so when a sudden clamour arose at the top of the well. The light was gone, but all four men were peering at something within.

  At length:

  “Haul him in,” said Rose Noble.

  They were very inexpert and mortally afraid of falling, and hard words were exchanged and much swearing before their burden was landed roughly enough, with two on the top of him and the other two standing by.

  Before a torch could be lighted, Punter let out a yell.

  “By —,” he cried, “it’s that — that keeps the inn!”

  To me his words came like a thunderbolt, and, between my relief and my astonishment, for a moment I felt quite dazed. Then it occurred to me that this was the moment to attack and that a sudden assault, coming upon them while they were so much engaged with the turn events had taken and were still uncertain what to think or do, would probably fare better than we could have hoped; so I took my pistol and torch, and, directing the face of the latter towards the house, gave the agreed signal, counted two seconds, and fired.

  This was as Carson had arranged, and nothing could have been better, for the five of us fired almost at once, and so unexpected a volley would, I should think, have disconcerted a Napoleon himself.

  No one fell, and, without so much as a cry, the four thieves scattered and ran straight for the combe—with the innkeeper pelting behind. Two of them fouled the gutter and fell to glory, but, perhaps because they had run into the moonlight, they were not content to lie, and, picking themselves up, rushed violently after their fellows down the slope, like the Gadarene swine. This much I saw, for I had run along by the edge of the wood, and I sent a shot after them, before hastening to the well.

  The seat was not on the hook, but only a bight of rope, so that, had I not seen him run, I should have thought that the innkeeper was ready to drop with fatigue; but we had the seat slung in a twinkling, and Carson and Rowley lowered it into the well.

  I must confess that I waited in fear and trembling, for I knew that the water must have risen a foot or more, and the thought that the landlord had emerged alive from the well filled me with the gravest misgivings for Mansel’s safety. I was also quite sure that the thieves would presently return, when, if we had not raised Mansel, we should present to them as fair a target as they had offered us, and the likelihood that they would bungle a second and better chance seemed small indeed.

  When the seat was nearly down, Hanbury took hold of the signal cord and swung the biscuit-tin, and a moment later, to our indescribable relief, the spring struck once upon the beam. At once we locked the windlass; and, in an instant, another two blows gave us the signal to hoist.

  Then we all five fell upon the windlass, and brought Mansel up with a run, and, only waiting to take up the search-light, the seat, the measuring-line and the bell, we left the meadow in good order, with Carson, rifle in hand, bringing up the rear.

  Two minutes later we were within the house, where Tester greeted Mansel as though in fact he knew that he was risen from the dead.

  Here I will say what I should have set down before, namely, that the walls of the kitchen-quarters were immensely thick, and must have formed part of the castle which was burned down. The windows were high above ground and heavily barred, and, since we had hung up curtains some distance away from the frames, neither by day nor night could anyone from without see into the rooms.

  Then supper was served, and Mansel and Bell and I told each his tale.

  Bell had little to add to what I now knew; but one thing that he said we all found interesting, and that was that the second attack had undoubtedly come from the South, that is to say, from the combe into which we had packed the thieves, “for,” said Bell, “although the alarum bell went, it went but once, and I think it was rung by one man coming up from the West, but, when the innkeeper’s party took to their heels, then ran North by the path through the woods and past the house: and, since I am sure that was not how they had come, they must have done so because they were driven that way-

  Only when all had been said, did I remember Job.

  When I spoke of him, Carson smiled.

  “I heard what Rose Noble said, sir, so it was hardly fair. He said ‘Back to the path, and watch,’ so I did as he said.”

  “I hope you didn’t kill him,” said Mansel.

  “Oh, no, sir,” said Carson. Then he hesitated. “I was going to ask you, sir—supposing it had been Rose Noble . . .?”

  Mansel shook his head.

  “Certainly not,” he said. “And here let me say you can all of you thank your stars that you’re such bad shots. I don’t wish to sound ungrateful, but, unless I’m being tortured, you must leave these volleys alone. That’s the way people get hurt. Except in the last resort, you are never to fire to hit. That is the handicap or disadvantage of—”

  As Tester growled, some object parted the curtains, and fell clean on to a loose cushion which belonged to the Rolls.

  The terrier leapt at it, but, before I could think, Mansel had sent him flying and, with a great cry of “DOWN!” had hurled the thing into the kitchen and fallen upon his face.

  The next instant a most frightful explosion shook the house, which I verily thought was coming about our ears; for the lights went out and the whole of the plaster of the ceiling in the servants’ hall fell down on our heads; and, what with the concussion and the dust and the tinkle of falling glass and the sudden return of the pain in the back of my head, my wits very nearly left me, and, when I heard Mansel speaking, he seemed to be a great way off.

  “Is anyone hurt?” he said, and called the roll.

  Mercifully, no one was touched, for we had been all six in the servants’ hall; and, when he called Tester, I heard the dog rush in answer to lick his face.

  “That was a bomb,” said Hanbury dazedly.

  “That was a bomb,” said Mansel. “And now I withdraw what I said a moment ago. You can shoot Rose Noble and Ellis as soon as you get the chance.”

  I have tried to analyse the feelings of us all at that time, with poor success.

  Whether the lust for gold had mastered us, whether a hatred of the thieves suffused our outlook, whether their attempts to thwart it had but toughened our resolve I cannot say: but I know that after the bomb had been thrown into our midst, we would, one and all, have died in agony rather than let the treasure fall into the enemy’s han
ds.

  That we found the act an outrage was, I think, reasonable; we had certainly fired upon them, as Mansel had warned them we should do; but that we had done in the open, where they had a good chance of escape and every opportunity of defending themselves. In return, they had taken a weapon of a barbarous kind, and had used it in circumstances so favourable to its energy that, had it not fallen where it did, and had the room door been shut, we must all six have perished miserably.

  In view of what had happened since sundown, we knew that one phase of our struggle had come to an untimely end. Our cake, so nearly baked, had fallen back into dough, and every plan we had made was now impracticable. But, in spite of all there was to be decided, we were too much obsessed and confounded by the attempt which had so nearly made an end of us all to bring our minds to bear at all profitably upon other matters. Add to this that Mansel was physically worn out, and that Hanbury and I were suffering from the blows we had severally received.

  We, therefore, lay down to sleep in the harness-room, to which, directly after the explosion, we had withdrawn. Tester was put in the Rolls, to watch the stables, and the servants were to take turns of guarding the passage which led to the kitchen hall. Yet, weary as we were, for a long time we could not sleep; and, ridiculously enough, Hanbury and I were greatly troubled by thirst; but, since our store of water stood in the kitchen, there was nothing to be done, for, supposing it was still available, no one could have reached it in silence or without showing a light.

  5. We Go to Ground

  By the time I awoke the next morning some order had been restored, and a table, upon which Rowley was serving breakfast, had been set in the harness-room. My head was sore and tender, but did not ache, and, though I would have liked to go out and breathe some fresh air—for neither by door nor window did the harness-room give upon the outside of the castle—I felt very little the worse for anything that had happened the night before.

  Then Mansel and Hanbury appeared from the kitchen hall, and I learned that Carson and Bell were guarding the kitchen-quarters from the first floor of the house. To command the courtyard was simple, for this could he done from any window that looked upon it; and, as luck would have it, the South-West corner of the castle ran into a staircase-turret, from which anyone approaching the kitchen from the meadow side could be easily shot down.

  There was, of course, a very great deal to be settled, but we had but to raise one issue to perceive that its consideration was depending upon our determination another, and, by the time we had breakfasted, we had done little but agree upon two or three matters of fact.

  The innkeeper knew of the treasure and where it lay. How he had learned the secret, it was idle to speculate; as like as not, he had held it for years, but, because he would not share it except with his two confederates, he had perforce been content to let the treasure lie. How nearly we had played into his hands was a disturbing thought.

  The thieves as good as knew where the treasure lay; and, in view of what had to be done to reach the chamber, it seemed probable that they would press the innkeeper into their service: knowing what manner of men they were, the fellow would go reluctantly.

  Our party, alone of the three, knew of the iron bars. This knowledge was of great value, for it showed that any dash for the treasure was doomed to failure, and that, even if we still had the well, unless we could work undisturbed, our chances of lifting the bags by way of the shaft would be almost negligible. Mansel had watched the water, whilst he was down in the well, and at the mouth of the shaft it rose at the pace of at least thirty inches an hour: and, since to cut through one bar would take the best part of three hours, such a load of labour, coming at the end of an exhausting day, would be more than five men could carry, unless they had each one the strength and endurance of a giant. And that would mean posting but one sentry, which was unthinkable.

  Even reinforced by the landlord, the thieves would not labour as we had. For one thing, they had neither the physique nor the condition of body which we enjoyed; for another, they were out of their element. For all that, we hoped very much that they would make an attempt to re-empty the well, for that would keep them occupied and leave us more or less free to go about our business of finding another way. For that, if we were not to abandon the enterprise, we must clearly do.

  And here we stepped into a very slough of difficulty; for, without the enemy’s knowledge, to drive a new shaft to the chamber was demanding the cunning of an Odysseus, and how, in the face of such aggression as we had met the night before, we were at once to prosecute such travail, hold the stables and maintain our supplies was a question which not one of us could pretend to answer. And yet, as luck would have it, thanks to George Hanbury’s most intelligent observation, this Gordian knot was unloosed within the hour.

  When we had breakfasted, Mansel desired Hanbury to relieve Carson, and me to take Bell’s place, so that the two could come down and get some food, and it was half an hour later, when Bell had returned to the post which commanded the courtyard, that Hanbury asked Mansel and me to come to the staircase-turret, where Carson was keeping watch.

  Admission to the turret was gained from a secondary hall, which cut the servants’ quarters from the rest of the house; like the kitchen and the servants’ hall, the turret had plainly survived, when the rest of the castle was burned, for it was manifestly aged and most solidly built; I imagine that of late years it had served as a back staircase to the mansion, for there was no other, and modem oil lamps were still hanging upon its walls; but it was a dark, break-neck place; the servants that had to use it must have complained bitterly. The stair was winding and two feet six inches in width: the rises of the steps were high, and their treads at their broadest point were none too broad: the latter were, of course, wedge-shaped and tapered to nothing. There was however, good handhold in the shape of a fine, deep groove cut in the outer wall and running up with the stairs. Walls, steps and all were smooth and had once shown a high polish, seldom found upon stone.

  All this Hanbury showed us by the light of a torch. “And now,” said he, “here is a curious thing.”

  With that, he began to descend—for we had gone slowly up—and, when we were all but down, showed us a little landing, which we had scarcely observed, in the midst of the stair.

  There were but two steps below it, between it and the hall, and the landing curved, as did the steps it served.

  “But for this landing,” said George, “the stairs would not be so steep. It’s hardly a landing; it’s really the third stair up—with a very broad tread; about four feet in breadth. And the height it has cost the staircase has been regained by making inconveniently high the rises of the following stairs.”

  When he had pointed this out, it was quite evident. “And now,” he continued, “look at the hand-rail.” Then he showed us that the hand-rail ceased where the landing began, and began again at once where the landing ceased.

  “Finally,” said Hanbury, “look at this rise.”

  With that, he stepped into the hall and lowered the torch.

  At the top of the third rise, that is to say, two inches below the landing, were two little slots in the stone. “By Jove,” cried Mansel. “An oubliette.”

  “An oubliette,” said Hanbury. “The innkeeper said there were no cellars, and I’ve no doubt he’s right. But, if this isn’t Axel the Red’s superfluous guest-chamber, the next time I see him I’ll walk up to Rose Noble and ask him the way to go home.”

  Then he showed us that the broad tread or landing was composed of four stones, three of which were slabs and could probably be withdrawn, as the lid of a pencil-box; but the fourth was fixed. Each was wedge-shaped, that is to say, it had the shape of a step.

  “And now imagine,” he concluded, “those three slabs withdrawn. The guest is descending in the dark. Suddenly he steps into space, and, when he clutches at the hand-rail, the hand-rail is gone. What sort of a fall he has remains to be seen.”

  Without a word, Mansel turned
and left us, to seek some implements, while I went down on my knees and put my two forefingers into the slots. These led into two holes, cut in the broad tread, and, so soon as I felt them, I had no longer any doubt that Hanbury’s conclusion was no fancy, but a substantial truth.

  And so it proved.

  Mansel returned with a sponge, and was quickly followed by Rowley, bearing some tools and cord.

  So soon as the landing was cleansed, it was easy to discern the joints, and even the scratches, made upon the wall of the turret when the slabs had been withdrawn.

  These marks were slightly higher than we should have expected to see them; but Mansel said that that showed that, before we could draw it out, we must somehow raise the edge of the first slab, for no doubt there was a fillet below, which held it locked into place.

  In this he was right, and, but for his wit, we might have sought to withdraw the slab for forty days in vain; but, when we had raised no more than an eighth of an inch, by means of a wedge, it yielded at once to our efforts and came directly away without any fuss.

  Here let me say that the workmanship expended upon this devilish contrivance deserved a worthier theme, for the trap was most beautifully made. Each slab was recessed upon one of its edges, flanged on the other and mitred on either side, and each lay so snug against its fellow, the turret wall and the spindle round which the staircase curled, that, as Mansel said at the time, “only a brilliant observation would have seen anything at all in the landing but clumsiness of construction.”

  We had now before us a hole, admitting to some dark place, so Mansel went off to recover and mend the search-light, while Hanbury, Rowley and I withdrew the remaining slabs. When these had been displaced, the hole revealed was some three and half feet long; and of all the unfortunates who ever stepped into that space I cannot think one was saved; for, as I have said already, there was no hand-rail, the stonework around was polished, and the sides of the trap were mitred, so that even the chances of an ape that had lost its balance there would have been small indeed.