CHAPTER XLIV
THE VOICE IN THE DUST
One of the men produced his note book and began taking down in shorthandthe rapid utterances of the chief, repeating it so as to check theaccuracy as he went on:
"Easy to see the marks; the floor is deep in dust, and the walls arethick with it. On floor, mark of several feet--confused in struggle, mayarticulate separately later on--one woman's--also trailing of longskirt. On walls marks of hands, fingers outspread, as if trying tograsp. Some of the long marks down the wall others across." The speakerhere raised his lamp and held it in the opening as far as his arm wouldgo; then he went on:
"Steps wind downwards to right. Struggle seems to have stopped.Footmarks more clear."... Then the chief turned to us:
"I think gentlemen, we may follow in now. The footmarks may bediscriminated and identified later. We must chance destroying them, orwe cannot pass in this narrow passage." Here I spoke; a thought had beensurging up in my brain ever since the detective had pointed out thefinger marks on the wall "down and across":
"Stop a moment please! Let me see the marks on the wall before any oneenters; the passage is narrow and they may be rubbed off." A glance wasenough, just time enough to formulate which was the symbol of "a" andwhich of "b." The perpendicular strokes were "a" and the horizontal "b."Marjory had kept her head, even at this trying time, and was leaving amessage for me as she was forced along. I understood why the strugglehad ceased. Seized and forced through the narrow doorway, she had atfirst struggled hard. Then, when she realised that she could leave aclue behind her, she had evidently agreed to go quietly; for so shemight have her hands free. It would be a hard job to carry or forcealong an unwilling captive through that narrow uneven passage; doubtlessthe captors were as willing as she was that she should go quietly. Isaid to the detectives:
"These marks on the wall are in a cipher which I can read. Give me thebest lamp we have, and let me go first."
So, in an orderly procession, leaving two men in the library with Mrs.Jack to guard the entrance, we passed into the secret passage. As I readoff the words written on the wall, the man with the note-book took themdown, his companion holding a candle so as to enable him to do so. Howmy heart beat as I read my dear girl's message, marked on the wall onthe inner side whichever way the curves ran. Obviously it would createless attention by guiding herself in this wise as she passed. She hadkept her hand well down so that her signs should not be confused withthe marks made by the men who, guiding themselves likewise, had heldtheir hands at a natural height. Her sign marks ran continuously,even after we had passed into the passage between the chapel and themonument; the writing ran as follows:
"Four men came in--two waiting in passage through bookcase--late--strikingone--struggled--then quiet--hands free--same voice we heard in Chapel.Feathers thin voice, small man, dark--all masked--Whisky Tommy hoarsevoice, big man, sandy, large hands--Dago, deep voice, swarthy, littlefinger missing left hand--Max, silent, nods for speech, think dumb--twoothers on ahead too far see, hear."
In a pause I heard the chief detective murmur:
"That girl's a peach. We'll get her yet!" The spot at which we werepausing was where the way to the reservoir branched off. Here Marjoryprobably stood with her back to the wall and used her hands behind herback, for the strokes were smaller and more uneven. There were faultswhich put me out and I could only read a few words--"whispering"--"onlyword can hear 'manse.'" There was evidently some conversation going onbetween her captors, and she was making use of her opportunities. Thenwe went on and found the signs renewed. It cut me to the heart when Isaw a smear of blood on one of the marks; the rough uncertain movementand the sharp edges of the rock had told on her delicate skin. But lateron, the blood marks were continued, and I could not but think that shehad cut her fingers on purpose to make a more apparent clue. When Imentioned my surmise to the detective, his instinct having been trainedin such matters, showed a keener insight than my own:
"More likely she is preparing to leave a mark which we can see when theyget her out of the tunnel. They may not suspect intention if her fingersare bleeding already!" The words following the stop where I had read"manse" were:
"Boat ready--Seagull--Coffin--Hearse--bury isl--" Here the next markinstead of being horizontal took a sudden angle down, and the blood wasroughly rubbed off. It was as though her hand had been struck in the actof making the mark. Her captors had suspected her. There were no moremarks on the wall. I could not imagine, however, that Marjory would beentirely baffled. She had infinite resource, and would doubtless findsome other means of leaving a clue. Telling the others therefore to keepback I threw the rays of the lamp over roof and walls and floor as weproceeded.
It was a strange scene. The candles and lamp showing up but patches oflight in the inky black darkness; the moving figures projected againstthe lights as I looked back; the silence broken by the shuffling treadof stumbling feet on the rock floor; the eager intense faces, when achange in the light flashed them into view. It all moved me at moments,for there was a gleam of hope in its earnestness.
I tried to put myself in Marjory's position. If her hands were useless,as they would be if she could not use them without suspicion--even werethey not tied now as was probable--her next effort would be with herfeet; I therefore looked out carefully for any sign made this way.Presently I came across a mark which I suspected. It was only a fewsteps beyond the last mark on the wall. It was a sort of drag of thefoot, where there was any slight accumulation of dust, or rubbish, orsand. There were more such traces ahead. So motioning to the others tokeep back, I followed them up, taking care not to disturb any of them.They were but the rough marks made during a stumbling progress; and fora time I was baffled; though I could distinguish the traces of Marjory'slittle feet amongst the great ones. Then I went back and looked at themafresh from the beginning, and a light burst upon me. They were madewith the right or left foot as required; thus she could reproduce thebi-literal symbol. Interpretation was now easy enough, and hence on, tothe exit from the tunnel, I could tell almost every word written. Therebeing only a few cases where the sign was not sufficiently marked forme to read it.
"Suspicious. Hands tied--gagged--find Seagull--find Manse."
It was sadly slow work, and my heart at times sank within me at theexasperating delay in our progress. However, it was progress afterall; and that sustained us. All along, as we worked our way towardsthe monument, I had been thinking of the word "manse;" and now itsrepetition showed its importance. It would be necessary that theabductors have some place in which to conceal their captive, before theyshould be able to get her out of the country. That this latter would bea necessary step towards their object was manifest; but the word_Seagull_ settled it.
When we got to the entrance of the tunnel we examined every inch of theway; this was the wish of the detective rather than my own. Marjorywould, it seemed to me, go quietly through the entrance. She wouldknow that she was being watched here with extra carefulness; and wouldreserve herself for a less suspicious opportunity. She would also knowthat if I were on her track at all, I would be able to follow throughthe secret entrance.
Outside, on the ground beside the monument, were no unusual signsof passage. The patch of bare earth and gravel, which we had beforenoticed, left no trace of footsteps. Those who had used it had evidentlytaken care that there should be no sign. We went slowly along theroute, which, by my former experiments with the thread, I had found washabitually used. Presently one of the Americans asked me to stop, as hehad seen a trace of feet. For my life I could distinguish nothing in theseemingly undisturbed mass of pine needles. But the man, who in hisyouth had been in Indian country, had learned something of tracking;he could interpret signs unseen to others with less highly developedinstincts. He went down on his knees and examined the ground, inch byinch, using a microscope. For some ten yards he crawled along on handsand knees engaged in this way. Then he stood up and said:
"There's no error about it now. There are six
men and a woman. They havebeen carrying her, and have let her down here!" We did not challenge hisreport, or even ask how he had arrived at it; we were all well contentto accept it.
We then moved on in the manifest direction in which the ground trended;we were working towards the high road which ran past the gates of Crom.I asked the others to let me go first now, for I knew this would beMarjory's chance to continue her warning. Surely enough, I saw presentlya slight disturbance in the pine needles, and then another and another.I spelled out the word "Manse" and again "Manse" and later on "try allManses near." Then the sign writing ceased; we had come out of the woodon to a grass field which ran down to the high road. Here, outside a gapat the bottom of the field, were the marks in the dust of several feet,the treading of horses, and the ruts of wheels. A little further on,the wheel marks--some four-wheeled vehicle--were heavy; and from thebackward propulsion of the dust and gravel in the hoof-tracks we couldeasily see that the horses were galloping.
We stopped and held a council of war. It was, of course understood by usall that some one should follow on the track of the carriage, and try toreach the quarry this way. For my own part, I felt that to depend on awheel mark, in such a country of cross roads, was only the off chance.In any case, this stern chase must be a long one; whereas time wasvital, every moment being precious. I determined to try to follow outMarjory's clue. "Try every Manse near." To do this we should get tosome centre where we could obtain a list of all the churches in theneighbourhood. Ellon was naturally the place, as it was in the centre ofthe district. They all acquiesced in my view; so we hurried back toCrom, leaving two men, the tracker and another, to follow the fugitives.Hitherto Don Bernardino had hardly said a word. He was alert, and theeager light of his eye was helpful; but after he had shown us the secretway, and found that already I knew the outer passage as well as he did,or better, he had contented himself with watchfulness. Now he suggested:
"There is also the boat! May it not be well that some one should followup that side of the matter? Thus we shall be doubly armed."
His advice commended itself to the chief of the detectives; though Icould see that he took it suspiciously from the Spaniard. It was withmanifest purpose of caution that he answered:
"Quite right! But that we shall see to ourselves; when Mr. Adams comeshe will work that racket!" The Spaniard bowed, and the American returnedthe courtesy with a stiff back. Even in such a time of stress, racialmatters were not to be altogether forgotten.
In the hall at Crom, we found, when we came back through the old chapel,Sam Adams. He had arrived just after we had set out on our search, butwas afraid to follow over-ground lest he should miss us; wisely he didnot attempt the underground way as he had no proper light. His cominghad been a great comfort to Mrs. Jack, who, always glad to see acountryman of her own, now almost clung to him. He had brought with himtwo young men, the very sight of whom made my heart warmer. One of themhe introduced as "Lootenant Jackson of West Point" and the other as"Lootenant Montgomery of Annapolis." "These boys are all right!" headded, laying a hand affectionately on the shoulder of each.
"I am sure they are! Gentlemen, I thank you with all my heart forcoming!" I said as I wrung their hands. They were both fine specimensof the two war Academies of the United States. Clean-built from top totoe; bright-eyed, resolute and alert; the very type of highly bred andtrained gentlemen. The young soldier Jackson answered me:
"I was too delighted to come, when Adams was good enough to get leavefor me."
"Me too!" echoed the sailor "When I heard that Miss Drake was introuble, and I was told I might come, I think I danced. Why, Sir, if youwant them, we've only to pass the word, and we can get you a man ofwar's crew--if every man of them has to desert!"
Whilst we were speaking there was a sound of rapid wheels, and acarriage from Ellon drew up at the door. Out jumped Cathcart, followedby a tall, resolute looking young man who moved with the freedom of anathlete.
"Am I in time?" was Cathcart's greeting as he rushed towards me. I toldhim exactly how we stood. "Thank God!" he said fervently "we may be intime yet." Then he introduced his friend MacRae of Strathspiel. This wasthe host with whom he had been staying; and who had volunteered to come,on hearing of his summons:
"You may trust Donald!" was his simple evidence of the worth of hisfriend.
This addition to our forces gave us great hope. We had now a sufficiencyof intelligent, resolute men to follow up several clues at once; and ina brief council we marked out the various duties of each. Cathcart wasto go to Ellon and get a list of all the manses in the region ofBuchan, and try to find out if any of them had been let to strangers. Wetook it for granted that none of the clergy of the place were themselvesconcerned in the plot. MacRae was to go with Cathcart and to get all thesaddle horses he could without attracting public attention, and bringthem, or have them brought, to Crom as soon as possible. Secrecy ofmovement was insisted on with almost agonised fervour by Adams and theSecret Service men. "You don't know these wretches," said the chief ofthe latter "They are the most remorseless and cruel villains in theworld; and if they are driven to bay will do anything however cruel orbase. They are well plucked too, and don't know what fear means. Theywill take any chances, and do anything to get their way and protectthemselves. If we don't go right in this matter, we may regret it to thelast of our days."
The silence in the room was only broken by the grinding of teeth, and byMrs. Jack's suppressed sobs.
Adams was to go to Aberdeen as a working centre, and was to look afterthe nautical side of the adventure; he was to have Montgomery in thiswork with him. Before he left Crom, he wrote some cipher telegrams tothe Embassy. He explained to me that one of his suggestions was thatan American war-ship which was cruising in the North Sea should, ifpossible, be allowed to lie off the coast of Aberdeen ready for anyemergency. When Montgomery heard it, he asked that if possible a messageshould be sent from him to the first officer of the _Keystone_: "Tellthe men privately that they are helping Marjory Drake!--There willbe a thousand pair of eyes on the watch then!" he added by way ofexplanation.
I was to wait with the detectives till we should get word from any ofour sources as to what could be done.
For there were several possibilities. The trackers might mark down thelocality where the prisoner was hidden. Cathcart might, before this,come with the list of manses and their occupants. Adams or Montgomerymight get wind of the _Seagull_; for Montgomery had already orders to goto Petershead and Fraserburgh, where the smacks for the summer fishingwere gathered.
Don Bernardino remained with me at Crom.