Lawrence Clavering

  CHAPTER XV.

  I REVISIT BLACKLADIES.

  That night I lay in the bracken on the hillside looking down intoEnnerdale. Far below I could see one light burning in an upper windowat the eastern side of Applegarth. It burned in Dorothy's chamber, andits yellow homeliness tugged at my heart as I lay there, the lonesomedarkness about me, the shrill cry of the wind in my ears. The lightburned very late that night. The clouds were gradually drawn like acurtain beneath the stars, and still it burned, and it was theblurring of the rain which at the last hid it from my sight.

  For the next three days I hid amongst the hills betwixt Borrowdale andApplegarth. I was now fallen upon the last days of September, and theweather very shrewd with black drenching storms of rain which wouldsweep up the valleys with extraordinary suddenness, impenetrable as ascreen, blotting out the world. The wind, too, blew from the north,bitter and cold, moaning up and down the faces of cliffs, whistlingthrough the grasses, with a sound inimitably desolate, and twisting toa very whirlpool in the gaps between the mountain-peaks. To make mycase the harder, I had come away in that haste, and oblivion of allbut the necessity of my departure, that I had made little provision inmy dress to defend me against the lashing of the wind and rain. I hadpicked up a hat and a long cloak, it is true, but for the rest, I woreno stouter covering than that suit of white which Mary Tyson had laidout for me so reluctantly. It was an unfit garb for my present life,and one that was to prove a considerable danger to me. But it was thecold discomfort of it which vexed me now. I had occasion enough toreflect on the folly of my precipitation, as I lay crouched in somedraughty cave of boulders, watching the livelong day the clouds lowerand lift, the battalions of the rain trample across the fells, andseeking to warm myself with the thought of that army in Scotlandmarching to the English borders. At nightfall I would creep downinto Borrowdale, procure food from one of my old tenants who waswell-disposed to me, and so get me back again to some jutting cornerwhence I could look down Gillerthwaite to Applegarth. But I looked invain for the lights of the house. On the night of my departure, I sawthem, but never afterwards, even when the air was of the clearest, sothat I knew not what to think, and was almost persuaded to return tothe house, that I might ascertain the cause of their disappearance.

  So for four days and nights, whilst an old thought shaped to aresolve. For in the pocket of my coat, I had carried away not merelythe button I had discovered in the garden at Blackladies--that neverleft my person--but the letter Tash had brought to me from LordDerwentwater. I had been interrupted in the reading of it by Mr.Curwen's return, and so crammed it into my pocket with some part of itunread. However, I gave very careful heed to it now.

  "My own affairs," it ran on, "have come to so desperate a pass that Idare not poke my nose into the matter of Herbert's disappearance; Ilive, indeed, myself, in hourly expectation of arrest. Your servantcame again to me from Blackladies the other day, and told me a watchwas no longer kept upon the house."

  And since I had no knowledge that England was stirring in support ofthe rebellion, I determined to hazard an interview with my cousin, andso late on the fifth night climbed into the garden of Blackladies andlet myself into the house as I had once seen Jervas Rookley do. Istood for a little in the parlour, feeling the darkness throb heavilyabout me with all the memories of that fatal night which had compassedmy undoing.

  Then I crossed towards the hall, but, my cloak flapping and draggingnoisily at a chair as I passed, I loosed it from my shoulders and leftit there. No lamp was burning in the hall, and since the curtains weredrawn close over the lower windows, only the faintest of twilightspenetrating through the upper panes made a doubtful glimmering beneaththe roof; so that one seemed to be standing in a deep well.

  The dining-room lay to my right on the further side of the hall. Imade towards it, and of a sudden came sharply to a halt, my heartfairly quivering within me. For it seemed to me that the figure of aman had suddenly sprung out of the darkness and was advancing to me,but so close that the next step would bring our heads knocking againsteach other. And he had made no sound. As I stopped, the figurestopped. For a moment I stood watching it, holding my breath, then Iclapped my hand to my sword, and the next moment I could have laughedat my alarm. For the figure copied my gesture. It was, moreover,dressed in clothes of a white colour from top to toe, and it was forthat reason I saw its movements so distinctly. But I was likewisedressed in white. The one difference, in fact, between us which Inoted was a certain black sheen in which it stood framed. I reachedout a hand; it slid upon the polished surface of a great mirror.

  The dining-room, I knew, opened at the side of this mirror, and Igroped cautiously for the handle of the door, but before I found it myhand knocked against the key. With equal caution I opened the door tothe width of an inch or so. A steady light shone upon the side of thewall, and through the opening there came the sound of a man snoring. Iput my head into the room; and there to my inexpressible relief wasJervas Rookley. He was dressed in a suit of black satin, stretched tohis full length upon a chair in front of a blazing fire, his headthrown back, his periwig on the floor, his cravat loosened, his shoesunbuckled off his feet.

  I closed the door behind me; then opened it again and pocketed the keyagainst which my hand had struck. The truth is that now that I wascome into the man's presence, which I had before considered the mostdifficult part of the business, I now, on the contrary, saw veryclearly that it was the easiest. I had not merely to come into hispresence; I had to win out of it afterwards; and moreover I hadsomehow or other to twist from him the information about Mr. Herbert'swhereabouts, for which I had adventured the visit.

  I stepped on tiptoe across the carpet and seated myself in a chairfacing him at the corner of the fireplace. Then I sought to arrangeand order the questions I should put to him. But in truth I found thetask well-nigh beyond my powers. It was all very well to tell myselfthat I was here on behalf of my remnant honour to secure theenlargement of Mr. Herbert. But the man was face to face with me; thefirelight played upon his honest face and outstretched limbs; and Ifelt hatred spring up in me and kindle through my veins like fire. Uptill now, so engrossed had I been by the turmoil of my own morepersonal troubles, I had given little serious thought to JervasRookley: I had taken his treachery almost callously as an acceptedthing, and the depths of my indignation had only been stirred againstmyself. Now, however, every piece of trickery he had used on mecrowded in upon my recollections. I might cry out within myself,"Anthony Herbert! Anthony Herbert!" Anthony Herbert was none the lesspushed to the backward of my mind. That honest face was upturned tothe light, and my thoughts swarmed about it I scanned it mostcarefully. It was more than common flushed and swollen, for which Iwas at no loss to account, since a bottle of French brandy stood on alittle table at his elbow, three parts empty, and a carafe of waterthree parts full. I reached over for the bottle, and rinsing out hisglass, helped myself, bethinking me that after my exposure of thethree last days, its invigoration might prove of use to me.

  But as I sat there and drank the brandy and watched Jervas Rookley'sface, my fingers ever strayed to the hilt of my sword; I moved theweapon gently backwards and forwards so as to satisfy my ears with thepleasant jingle of the hanger; I half drew the blade from the sheathand rubbed my thumb along the edge until the blood came; and then Isat looking at the blood, and from the blood to Jervas Rookley, untilat last an overmastering desire grew hot about my heart It was nolonger the edge or the point of the sword which I desired to employ. Iwanted to smash in that broad, honest face with the big pommel, and Ifeared the moment of his awakening lest I should yield to thetemptation.

  Fortunately, his first movement was one that diverted my thoughts. Foras he opened his eyes he stretched out his hands to the brandy bottle.It was near to my elbow, however, on the mantelpiece, and I refilledmy own glass. It was, I think, the sound of the liquor tinkling intothe glass more than the words I spoke to him which made Rookley openhis
eyes. He blinked at me for a moment.

  "You?" said he, but blankly with the stupor of his sleep still heavyupon him.

  "Yes!" said I, drinking the brandy.

  He followed the glass to my lips and woke to the possession of somepart of his senses.

  "I had expected you before," says he, and sits clicking his tongueagainst the roof of his mouth and swallowing, as though his throat wasparched.

  "So I believe," I returned. "You had even gone so far as to preparefor me a fitting welcome."

  He was by this time wide awake. He picked up his peruke, clapped it onhis head, and stood up in his stocking feet.

  "Your servants, sir," says he with inimitable assurance, "will alwayshonour their master with a fitting welcome, so long as I am steward,on whatever misfortunes he may have declined."

  "I meant," said I, "a welcome not so much fitting my mastership asthat honesty of yours, Mr. Rookley, which my Lord Derwentwater tellsme is all on the outside."

  I bent forward, keeping my eyes upon his face. But not a muscle jerkedin it.

  "Ah!" said he, in an indifferent voice. "Did Lord Derwentwater tellyou that? Well, I had never a great respect for his discernment;" andhe stood looking into the fire. Then he glanced at me and uttered aquiet little laugh.

  "So you knew," said he, easily, "I had it in my mind, but I could notbe certain."

  "I have known it----" I cried, exasperated out of all control by hiscool audacity; and with a wave of the hand he interrupted me.

  "You will excuse me," he said politely; and then, "There is no longerany reason why I should stand, is there?" and he resumed his seat andslipped his feet into his shoes. "Now," said he, "if you will pass thebottle."

  "No," I roared in a fury.

  "Well, well," he returned, "since there seems some doubt which of usis host and which guest, I will not press the request. You were sayingthat you have known it----?"

  "Since one evening when you showed me a private entrance intoBlackladies," I cried; and bending forward to press upon him theknowledge that he had thereby foiled himself, I added in some triumph,"I have great reason to thank you for that, Mr. Jervas Rookley."

  He leaned forward too, so that our heads were close together.

  "And for more than that," said he. "Believe me, dear Mr. Clavering,that is by no means all you have to thank me for;" and he veryaffectionately patted my knee.

  "And that is very true," says I, as I drew my knee away. "For I haveto thank you for the fourth part of a bottle of brandy, but I cannotjust bring to mind any other occasion of gratitude."

  "Oh, gratitude!" says he, with a reproachful shake of the hand. "Fie,Mr. Clavering! Between gentleman and cousins the word stinks--itpositively stinks. Whatever little service I have done for you, callsfor no such big-sounding name."

  His voice, his looks, his gestures were such as a man notes only in afriend, and a friend that is perplexed by some unaccountablesuspicion.

  "But you spoke of honesty," he continued, throwing a knee across theother and spreading out his hands. "It is very true I played a trickon you in coming to Paris as your servant But it is a trick which mybetters had used before me. Your Duke of Ormond got him into Francewith the help of a lackey's livery. And your redoubtable Mar----"

  At that name I started.

  "It is indeed so," he said earnestly. "The Earl of Mar, I have it onthe best authority, worked his passage as a collier into Scotland."

  It was not, however, that I was concerned at all as to how the Earl ofMar had escaped unremarked from London. But it suddenly occurred tome, as an explanation of Rookley's friendly demeanour, that theinsurrection might be sweeping southwards on a higher tide of successthan I had been disposed to credit. If that was the case, Mr. JervasRookley would of a certainty be anxious still to keep friends with me.

  "So you see, Mr. Clavering," he went on, "I have all the precedentsthat a man could need to justify me."

  "Well," said I, "it is not the trick itself which troubles me so muchas your design in executing it."

  "Design?" says he, taking me up in a tone of wonderment "You are verysuspicious, Mr. Clavering. But I do not wonder at it, knowing in whatschool you were brought up;" and rising from his chair he took a pipefrom the mantel-shelf and commenced to fill it with tobacco, "Thesuspicion, however, is unjust."

  He bent down and plucked a splinter of burning wood out of the fire."You do not smoke, I believe, but most like you do now, and at allevents you will have grown used to the smell."

  I started forward and stared at him. He lighted his pipe with greatdeliberation.

  "Yes," said he nodding his head at me, "the suspicion is unjust." Hetossed the splinter into the fire and sat down again.

  "And how is little Dorothy Curwen?" he asked, with a lazy,contemptuous smile.

  I sprang out of my seat, stung by the contempt rather than thesurprise his words were like to arouse in me. And this, I think, heperceived, for he laughed to himself. Whereupon I felt my face flush;and that too he noted, and laughed again.

  "Then you knew," I exclaimed, recovering myself--"you knew where Iwas sheltered!"

  "A gentleman riding down Gillerthwaite at three o'clock of the morningis a sufficiently rare a sight to attract attention. I believe that,luckily, the shepherd who saw you only gossiped to a tenant ofBlackladies."

  I remembered the flock of sheep which I had seen scared up thehillside across the valley. But it was on my return from Keswick thatI had been remarked--no later than a day after Rookley had striven toencompass my arrest.

  "The news," said I, very slowly, "came to you in a roundabout fashion,and took, I suppose, some time in the coming. I infer, therefore, thatit came to your ears after the Earl of Mar had risen in Scotland."

  I was leaning upon the mantel-piece, looking down into his face, onwhich the fire shone with a full light; and just for a moment his facechanged, the slightest thing in the world, but enough to assure methat my conjecture was right.

  "There are inferences, my good cousin," he said sharply, "which it isnot over-prudent for a man so delicately circumstanced as yourself todraw."

  There was a note of disappointment in his tone, as though he wouldfain have hoodwinked me still into the belief that he stood my friend.And it suddenly occurred to me that there was a new danger in thisknowledge of his--a danger which threatened not so much me as thepeople who had sheltered me. I resumed accordingly in a more amicabletone:

  "It was not, however, of my whereabouts that I came hither to speak toyou, but of the whereabouts of Mr. Herbert."

  "Mr. Herbert?" says he, playing surprise. "What should I know of Mr.Herbert? Now, if I was to ask you the whereabouts of Mrs. Herbert,there would be some sense in the question, eh?" and he chuckledcunningly and poked a forefinger into my ribs. I struck the handaside.

  "What, indeed, should you know of Mr. Herbert," I cried--"you thatplotted his arrest!"

  "Arrest?" he interrupted, yet more dumfounded. "Plot?"

  "That is the word," said I--"plot! a simple word enough, though with adamned dirty underhand meaning."

  "Ah," he returned, with a sneer, "you take that interest in thehusband, it appears, which I imagined you to have reserved for hiswife. But as for plots and arrests--why, I know no more of what youmean than does the Khan of Crim Tartary."

  "Then," said I, "will you tell me why you paid a visit to Mr. Herbertthe night before he was arrested? And why you told him that if he cameto Blackladies on the afternoon of the next day he would find Mrs.Herbert and myself in the garden?"

  It was something of a chance shot, for I had no more than suspicion towarrant me, but it sped straight to its mark. Rookley started back inhis chair, huddling his body together. Then he drew himself erect,with a certain defiance.

  "But zounds, man!" he exclaimed, like one exasperated with perplexity,"what maggot's in your brains? Why should I send Herbert--devil takethe fellow!--to find you in the garden when I knew you would not bethere?"

  "And I can answer that question wit
h another," said I. "Who were inthe garden at the time Mr. Herbert was to discover us?"

  "The gardeners, I suppose," said he, thrusting his wig aside toscratch his head.

  "It is a queer kind of gardener that wears buttons of this sort," saidI; and I pulled the button from my pocket, and held it before his eyesin the palm of my hand.

  He bent forward, examined the button, and again looked at meinquiringly.

  "I picked it up," I explained, "on a little plot of trampled grass inthe Wilderness on the next morning."

  Rookley burst into a laugh and slapped his thighs.

  "Lord! Mr. Clavering," he cried, and rising from his chair he walkedbriskly about the room, "your button is something too small to carryso weighty an accusation."

  "Nay," I answered, smiling in my turn, "the button, though small, ismetal solid enough. It depends upon how closely it is sewn to thecloth of my argument It is true that I picked up the button on themorning that the soldiers came for me, but I was in the house on theafternoon before, and I saw----"

  Jervas Rookley stopped in his walk, and his laughter ceased with thesound of his steps.

  "You were in the house?" His mouth so worked that he pronounced thewords awry. "You were in the house?"

  "In the little parlour which gives on to the terrace."

  Had I possessed any doubt before as to his complicity, the doubt wouldhave vanished now. He reeled for a moment as if he had been struck,and the blood mottled in his cheeks.

  "The house-door may be left open for one man, but two men may enterit," said I.

  "You saw?" He took a step round the table and leaned across the cornerof it. "What did you see?"

  I took up a lighted candle from the table.

  "I will show you," said I, and walked to the door.

  He followed me, at first with uncertain steps. The steps grew firmbehind my back.

  They seemed to me significant of a growing purpose--so in the hall Istopped.

  "We are good cousins, you and I," said I, holding the candle so thatthe flame lighted his face.

  "Without a doubt," says he, readily. "You begin to see that you havemistaken me."

  "I was thinking rather," said I, "that being good cousins, we mightwalk arm-in-arm."

  "I should count it an honour," said he, with a bow.

  "And it will certainly be a relief to me," said I. And accordingly Itook his arm.

  We crossed the hall into the parlour. The window stood open, as I hadleft it, with the curtains half drawn. Rookley busily pushed them backwhile I set the candle down. The sky had cleared during the last halfhour, and the moon, which was in its fourth quarter, hung like a globeabove the garden.

  "I met Mr. Herbert in the hall," said I, "just outside this room. Wehad some talk--of a kind you can imagine. He went down the steps withhis sword drawn. There he dropped his cloak, there he slashed at thebushes. Between those two trees he passed out of sight. I stepped outinto the terrace to follow him, but before I had reached the flight ofsteps, I heard a pistol crack and saw a little cloud of smoke hangabove the bushes there. I found the button the next morning at thevery spot, and near the button, the pistol. It was Mr. Herbert'spistol. That," said I, "is my part of the story. But perhaps if we goback to the warmer room you will give me your part. For I take it thatyou were not in the house, else you would have heard my voice, butrather in the garden. You made a great mistake in not looking towardsthe terrace, my cousin." And again I took his arm, and we walked back.

  I was, indeed, rather anxious to discover the whereabouts of Rookleyduring that afternoon, since so far I had been able to keep Mrs.Herbert's name entirely out of the narrative. If Jervas Rookley hadbeen in the garden during the afternoon, and had only returned to thehouse in time to intercept Lord Derwentwater's letter concerning theFrench King's health, and had thereupon ridden off to apply for awarrant against me, why, there was just a chance that I might saveMrs. Herbert from figuring in the business at all.

  Rookley said nothing until we were got back into the dining-room, butwalked thoughtfully, his arm in mine. I noticed that he was carryingin his left hand the cord by which the curtains in the little parlourwere fastened. He stood swinging it to and fro mechanically.

  "Your suspicions," said he, "discompose me. They discompose me verymuch. I gave you credit for more generosity;" and lifting up thebrandy bottle, he held it with trembling hands betwixt himself and thecandle.

  "I am afraid that it is empty," said I.

  "If you will pardon me," said he, "I will even fetch another."

  He laid the cord upon the table, advanced to the door and opened itwide. I saw him slide his hand across the lock.

  "The key is in my pocket," I said.

  He looked at me with a sorrowful shake of the head.

  "Your suspicions discompose me very much," and he came back for acandle. I noticed too that he carelessly picked up the cord again.

  "I think," said I, "that I will help you to fetch that bottle;" and Iwent with him into the hall.

  There was something new in the man's bearing which began to alarm me.He still used the same tone of aggrieved affection, but with anindefinable difference which was none the less very apparent to me.His effort seemed no longer to aim at misleading me, but rather tosustain the pretence that he was aiming to mislead me. It seemed to methat since he had become aware of what I knew concerning his treacheryhe had devised some new plan, and kept his old tone to hinder me fromsuspecting it. I noticed, too, a certain deliberateness in theindifference of his walk, a certain intention in the discomposure.

  In the hall he stopped, and setting down the candle upon a cabinet,turned to face me.

  "Why did you come with me?" he asked gently.

  "I did not know but what you might call your servants, and, as you putit, I am delicately circumstanced."

  He raised his hands in a gesture of pity.

  "See what suspicion leads a man to! My servants hold you in so muchrespect that if I harboured designs against your safety, to call myservants would be to ruin me."

  I was inclined to believe that what he said was in a measure true, forI remembered the interview which I had had with Ashlock in thesteward's office, and the subsequent consideration which had beenshown me.

  Then, "Look!" I cried of a sudden, pointing my arm. Right in front ofme on that vacant space of the wall amongst the pictures hung theportrait of Jervas Rookley.

  Rookley started ever so little and then stood eyeing me keenly, thewhile he swung round and round in a little circle the tassel of thecurtain cord.

  "You prate to me of suspicions," I cried, "there's the proof of theirjustice. This estate of Blackladies I held on one condition--that youshould receive no benefit from it. We jogged side by side, you and I,cousins with hearts cousinly mated in the same endeavour! You stillprofess it! Then explain to me: how comes it the Whigs leave youalone, you stripped of your inheritance because of the very principleswhich outlawed me? Explain that, and I'll still believe you. Provethat you live here without the Government's connivance, I'll forgetthe rest of my suspicions. I'll count you my loyal friend. Only showme this: how comes it that I make my bed upon the bracken, and youlord it at Blackladies? Your presence the common talk, your picturestaring from the walls?" and in my rage I plucked my sword from thesheath, and slashed his portrait across the face, lengthwise andbreadthwise, in a cross.

  The tassel stopped swinging. His shoulders hunched ever so little, hishead came forward, the eyes shone out bright like beads, and his facetightened to that expression of foxy cunning I had noted before in midChannel between Dover and Dunkirk.

  "It is a gallant swordsman," he said, with a sneer, "and a prudenttoo."

  "He looks to the original," I cried, "to give him the occasion ofimprudence;" and I faced him.

  "There is a better way," said he, with the quietest laugh, and hesprang back suddenly to the cabinet on which the candle stood. "Wewill make a present of a Michaelmas goose to King George."

  I saw his hand for an
instant poised above the flame, red with thelight of it; I saw his figure black from head to foot, and at hiselbow another figure white from head to foot, the reflection of myselfin the mirror by his side; and then his palm squashed down upon thewick.

  The hall fell to darkness just as I made the first step towards him. Ihalted on the instant. He could see me, I could not see him! He hadthrown off the mask; he had proclaimed himself my enemy, and he knewwhere I had been sheltered. It was that thought which slipped into mymind as the darkness cloaked about me, and made me curse the folly ofmy intrusion here. I had hazarded not merely myself, but Dorothy andher father. He could see me, I could not see him, and the outcome ofthis adventure struck at Dorothy.

  I stepped backwards as lightly as I could, until the edge of apicture-frame rubbed against my shoulder-blades, and so stood grippingmy sword-hilt, straining my ears. Across the hall I seemed to hearRookley breathing, but it was the only sound I heard. There was noshuffle of a foot; he had not moved.

  Above me the twilight glimmered beneath the roof; about me the chamberwas black as the inside of a nailed coffin. If I could only reach thewindows and tear the curtains back! But half the length of the hallintercepted me, and to reach them I must needs take my back from thewall. That I dared not do, and I stood listening helplessly to thesound of Rookley's breathing. In that pitch-dark hall it seemed toshift from quarter to quarter. At one moment I could have sworn Iheard his breath, soft as a sigh, a foot's length from me; I couldalmost have sworn I felt it on my neck; and in a panic I whirled mysword from side to side, but it touched nothing within the half circleof its reach. My fears indeed so grew upon me, that I was in two mindswhether or no to shout and bring the servants about me. It would atall events end the suspense. But I dared not do it. Tervas Rookleydistrusted them. But how much more cause had I! I could not risk thesafety of Applegarth upon their doubtful loyalty. And then a sharpsound broke in upon the silence. It set my heart fluttering andfainting within me by reason of its abruptness, so that for a moment Iwas dazed and could not come at the reason of it. It was a clatteringsound, and, so far as I could gather, it came from the spot where Ihad last seen Jervas Rookley standing. It was like--nay, it was thesound of a shoe dropped upon the boards. I know not why, but the soundsteadied, though it appalled me. It spoke of a doubled danger andcried for a doubled vigilance. Rookley could not only see my whitefigure; he could move to it noiselessly, for he was slipping off hisshoes.

  I listened for the creak of a board, for the light padding sound ofstockinged feet, for the rustle of his coat; and while I listened, Imoved my sword gently in front of me, but my sword touched nothing andmy ears heard nothing. Yet he must be coming--stealthily steppingacross the hall---I felt him coming. But from what quarter would hecome? During those seconds of waiting the question became a torture.

  And then a momentary hope shot through me. When he put the candle outhis sword was in the scabbard. He had not drawn it, since I hadlistened so strenuously that I must have heard. However carefully hedrew it, a chain would clink; or if not that, the scabbard might knockagainst his leg; or if not that, there would be a little whirr, a sortof whisper as the blade slid upwards out of the sheath.

  There was still a chance, then. At that point of the darkness fromwhich the sound should come I would strike--strike the moment I heardit, with all my strength, down towards the floor. I tightened myfingers about my sword-hilt and waited. But it was a very differentnoise which struck upon my hearing, a noise that a man may make in thedragging of a heavy sack. I drew myself up close to the wall, settingmy feet together, pressing my heels against the panels. The soundfilled me with such terror as I think never before or since I haveknown the like of. For I could not explain it to myself. I only knewthat it was dangerous. It seemed to me to come from somewhere aboutmidway of the room, and I held my breath that I might judge the betteron its repetition. After a moment it was repeated, but nearer, and byits proximity it sounded so much the more dangerous. I sprang towardsit. A sobbing cry leapt from my lips, and I lunged at a venture intothe darkness. But again my sword touched nothing, and with the forceof that unresisted thrust I stumbled forward for a step or two. My crychanged into a veritable scream. I felt the fingers of a hand gentlysteal about each of my ankles and then tighten on them like ironfetters. I understood; halfway across the room Rookley had loweredhimself full-length upon the floor and was crawling towards me. Iraised my sword to strike, but even as I raised it he jerked my feetfrom beneath me, and I fell face forwards with a crash right acrosshis body. My sword flew out of my hand and went rolling and clatteringinto the darkness. My forehead struck against the boards, and for amoment I lay half stunned. It was only for a moment, but when thatmoment had passed, Jervas Rookley was upon me, above me, his armstwined about mine and drawing them behind me, his knees pressed withall his might into the small of my back.

  "We will truss the goose before we send it to King George," said he.