CHAPTER XIV
Once more the two men sat over the remnants of their evening meal. Thistime the deterioration in their own appearance seemed to have spreaditself to their surroundings. The table was ill-laid, there were noflowers, an empty bottle of wine and several decanters remained wherethey had been set. There was every indication that however little thetwo might have eaten, they had been drinking heavily. Yet they wereboth pale. Cecil's face even was ghastly, and the hand which playednervously with the tablecloth shook all the time.
"Forrest," he said abruptly, "it is a mistake to clear out all theservants like this. Not only have we had to eat a filthy dinner, butit's enough to make people suspicious, eh? Don't you think so? Don'tyou think afterwards that they may wonder why we did it?"
"No!" Forrest answered, with something that was almost like a snarl."No, I don't! Shut up, and don't be such an infernal young fool! Wecouldn't have town servants spying and whispering about the place. Icaught that London butler of yours hanging around the library thisafternoon as though he were looking for something. They were a d--dcareless lot, anyhow, with no mistress or housekeeper to look afterthem, and they're better gone. Who is there left exactly now?"
"There's a kitchen-maid, who cooked this wretched mess," Cecilanswered, "and another under her from the village, who seems half anidiot. There is no one else except Pawles, a man who comes in from thestables to do the rough work and pump the water up for the bath. We arepractically alone in the house."
"Thank Heaven it's our last night," Forrest answered.
"You really mean, then," Cecil asked, in a hoarse whisper, "to finishthis now?"
"I mean that we are going to," Forrest answered. "You know I'm halfafraid of you. Sometimes you're such a rotten coward. If ever I thoughtyou looked as though you were going back on me, I'd get even with you,mind that."
"Don't talk like a fool!" Cecil answered. "What we do, we do together,of course, only my nerves aren't strong, you know. I can't bear thethought of the end of it."
"Whatever happens to him," Forrest said, "he's asking for it. He has aneasy chance to get back to his friends. It is brutal obstinacy if hemakes us end it differently. You're only a boy, but I've lived a goodmany years, and I tell you that if you don't look out for yourself andmake yourself safe, there are always plenty of people, especially thosewho call themselves your friends, who are ready and waiting to kick youdown into Hell. I am going to have something more to drink. Nothingseems to make any difference to me to-night. I can't even get excited,although we must have drunk a bottle of wine each. We'll have somebrandy. Here goes!"
He filled a wine-glass and passed the bottle to Cecil.
"You're about in the same state," he remarked, looking at him keenly."Why the devil is it that when one doesn't require it, wine will go tothe head too quickly, and when one wants to use it to borrow a littlecourage and a little forgetfulness, the stuff goes down like water.Drink, Cecil, a wine-glass of it. Drink it off, like this."
Forrest drained his wine-glass and set it down. Then he rose to hisfeet. His cheeks were still colourless, but there was an added glitterin his eyes.
"Come, young man," he said, "you have only to fancy that you are one ofyour own ancestors. I fancy those dark-looking ruffians, who scowl downon us from the walls there, would not have thought so much of flingingan enemy into the sea. It is a wise man who wrote thatself-preservation was the first law of nature. Come, Cecil, rememberthat. It is the first law of nature that we are obeying. Ring the bellfirst, and see that there are no servants about the place."
Cecil obeyed, ringing the bell once or twice. No one came. They steppedout into the hall. The emptiness of the house seemed almost apparent.There was not a sound anywhere.
"The servants' wing is right over the stables, a long way off," Cecilremarked. "They could never hear a bell there that rang from any of theliving-rooms."
Forrest nodded.
"So much the better," he said. "Come along to the library. I haveeverything ready there."
They crossed the hall and entered the room to which Forrest pointed.Their footsteps seemed to awake echoes upon the stone floor. The hall,too, was all unlit save for the lamp which Forrest was carrying. Cecilpeered nervously about into the shadows.
"It's a ghostly house this of yours," Forrest said grumblingly, as theyclosed the door behind them. "I shall be thankful to get back to myrooms in town and walk down Piccadilly once more. What's that outside?"
"The wind," Cecil answered. "I thought it was going to be a roughnight."
The window had been left open at the top, and the roar of the windacross the open places came into the room like muffled thunder. Thelamp which Forrest carried was blown out, and the two men were left indarkness.
"Shut the window, for Heaven's sake, man!" Forrest ordered sharply."Here!"
He took an electric torch from his pocket, and both men drew a littlebreath of relief as the light flashed out. Cecil climbed on to a chairand closed the window. Forrest glanced at the clock.
"It's quite late enough," he said. "It should be high tide in a quarterof an hour, and the sea in that little cove of yours is twenty feetdeep. Come along and work this door."
"Have you got everything?" Cecil asked nervously.
"I have the chloroform," Forrest answered, touching a small bottle inhis waistcoat pocket. "We don't need anything else. He hasn't thestrength of a rabbit, and you and I can carry him down the passage. Ifhe struggles there's no one to hear him."
Cecil pushed his way against the panels and opened the clumsy door.They groped their way down the passage.
"Faugh!" Forrest exclaimed. "What smells! Cecil," he added, "I supposehalf the village know about this place, don't they?"
"They know that it has been here always," Cecil answered, "but theymost of them think that it is blocked up now. We did try to, Andrew andI, but the masonry gave way. These lumps on the floor are the remainsof our work. Keep your torch down. You'll fall over them."
Forrest stopped short. Curiously enough, it was he now who seemed themore terrified. The wind and the thunder of the sea together seemed toreach them through the walls of earth in a strange monotonous roar,sometimes shriller as the wind triumphed, sometimes deep and low sothat the very ground beneath their feet vibrated as the sea camethundering up into the cove. Cecil, who was more used to such noises,heard them unmoved.
"If my people had left me such a dog's hole as this," Forrest declaredviciously, "I'd have buried them in it and blown it up to the skies.It's only fit for ghosts."
The very weakening of the other man seemed for the moment to give Ceciladded courage. He laughed hoarsely.
"There are worse things to fear," he muttered, "than this. Hold hard,Forrest. Here is the door. I'll undo the padlock. You stand by in casehe makes a rush."
But there was no rush about Engleton. He was lying on his back,stretched on a rough mattress at the farther end of the room, moaningslightly. The two men exchanged quick glances.
"We are not going to have much trouble," Forrest muttered. "What abeastly atmosphere! No wonder he's knocked up."
Cecil, however, looked about suspiciously.
"Don't you notice," he whispered, "that we can hear the wind muchplainer here than in the passage? I believe I can feel a current offresh air, too. I wonder if he's been trying to cut his way through tothe air-hole. It's only a few feet up."
He flashed his light upon the wall near where Engleton was lying. Thenhe turned significantly to Forrest.
"See," he said, "he has cut steps in the wall and tried to make anopening above. He must have guessed where the ventilating pipe was. Iwonder what he did it with."
They crossed the room. The man on the couch opened his eyes and lookedat them dully.
"So you've been improving the shining hour, eh?" Forrest remarked,pointing to the rough steps. "We shall have to find what you did itwith. Hidden under the mattress, I suppose."
He stooped down, and Engleton flew at his throat with all the fury o
f awild cat. Forrest was taken aback for a moment, but the effort was onlya brief one. Engleton's strength seemed to pass away even before he hadconcluded his attack. He sank back and collapsed upon the floor at atouch.
"You brutes!" he muttered.
Cecil lifted the mattress. There was a large flat stone, sharp-edgedand coated with mud, lying underneath.
"I thought so," he whispered. "Jove, he's gone a long way with it,too!" he muttered, looking upward. "Another foot or so and he wouldhave been outside. I wonder the place didn't collapse."
Engleton dragged himself a little way back. He remained upon the floor,but there was support for his back now against the wall.
"Well," he said, "what is it this evening?"
"The end," Forrest answered shortly.
Engleton did not flinch. Of the three men, although his physicalcondition was the worst, he seemed the most at his ease.
"The end," he remarked. "Well, I don't believe it. I don't believe youhave either of you the pluck to go through life with the fear of therope round your neck every minute. But if I am indeed a condemned man.I ought to have my privileges. Give me a cigarette, one of you, forGod's sake."
Forrest took out his gold case and threw him a couple of cigarettes.Then he struck a match and passed it over.
"Smoke, by all means," he said. "Listen! In five minutes we are goingto throw you from the seaward end of this place, down into the cove orcreek, or whatever they call it. It is high tide, and the sea there istwenty feet deep. As for swimming, you evidently haven't the strengthof a cat, and there is no breathing man could swim against the currentfar enough to reach any place where he could climb out. But to avoideven that risk, we are going to give you a little chloroform first. Itwill make things easier for you, and we shall not be distressed by yourshrieks."
"An amiable programme," Engleton muttered. "I am quite ready for it."
"Then I don't think we need waste words," Forrest said slowly. "Youhave made up your mind, I suppose, that you do not care about life.Remember that it is not we who are your executioners. You have an easychoice."
"If you mean," Engleton said, "will I purchase my liberty by lettingyou two blackguards off free, for this and for your dirtycard-sharping, I say no! I will take my chances of life to the lastsecond. Afterwards I shall know that I am revenged. Men don't gohappily through life with the little black devil sitting on theirshoulders."
"We'll take our risk," Forrest said thickly. "You have chosen, then?This is your last chance."
"Absolutely!" Engleton answered.
Forrest took out the phial from his pocket and held his handkerchief onthe palm of his hand.
"Open the door, will you, Cecil," he said, "so that we can carry himout."
Cecil opened it, and came slowly back to where Forrest was counting thedrops which fell from the bottle on to his handkerchief. Then hesuddenly came to a standstill. Forrest, too, paused in his task andlooked up. He gave a nervous start, and the bottle fell from hisfingers.
"What in God's name was that?" he asked.
It came to them faintly down the long passage, but it was neverthelessalarming enough. The hoarse clanging of a bell, pulled by impetuousfingers. Cecil and Forrest stared at one another for a moment withdilated eyes.
"Can't you speak, you d----d young fool?" Forrest asked. "What bell isthat?"
"It is the front-door bell of the Red Hall," Cecil answered, in a voicewhich he scarcely recognized as his own. "There it goes again."
They stood perfectly silent and listened to it, listened until itsechoes died away.