King of Ranleigh: A School Story

  CHAPTER X

  THE RUINED TOWER

  Even the longest of terms comes at length to an end; and finally thateventful first term which Clive and his friends had spent at Ranleighdrew to a close. The last days were carefully and jubilantly marked offby every junior boy on a calendar of his own making. Boxes were packed,good-byes said, and the school divided for the holidays.

  "Shall try to get over to see you chaps in the hols.," declared Masters,on the eve of departure. "Much depends, though, on the Governor. Can'tdo railway journeys on my allowance. Sickening, isn't it?"

  "Rotten," Clive consoled him. "But it's only twenty miles, eh?"

  "Barely. Perhaps a bit more. Nothing on a motor," agreed Masters,recollecting their trip to Guildford. "And you've a car, haven't you?"

  Bert grinned at that, a satirical grin which made Clive boil with anger.Hugh got very red. He looked closely at Masters to see if he were pokingfun at him.

  "Not going to have a chap like you pulling our leg, you know," he saidhaughtily and somewhat threateningly. "What do you mean by a car?"

  "Why, a car, of course. What else?" grinned Bert provocatively.

  "Quite so," admitted Masters, a little puzzled. He had understood, infact, from Clive's glowing description of the home-made vehicle of whichthat hopeful and Hugh were joint inventors and proprietors that it wassomething really very fine. He never imagined, indeed, and had neverbeen given data on which to imagine, that the said car consisted of oddsand ends, that the workshop engine was the propelling force, that thesteering gear was of the crudest, that bicycle wheels did service infront, while the rector's tricycle had supplied that all-important part,the back axle. Clive in his descriptions of mechanical mattersappertaining to himself was wont to wax very enthusiastic. He clothedhis inventions in a covering of gloss, which, to the uneducated eyes ofMasters, was quite opaque. That car, then, to this same Masters, hadalways been imagined as a car, not a collection of odd bits.

  "Oh!" exclaimed Hugh at length, seeing that no attempt was being made tomake fun of the invention. "Well, Clive, a bit more than twenty miles,eh? How'd she do it?"

  "On her head. Easy. But we mightn't be able to get away. Train's easierfor Masters. Let his Governor stump up. He ought to. What's a Governorfor?"

  That was just the very point of view from which Masters beheld hispaternal relative. He went off in the train promising to see whatpersuasion would do. And then Susanne waved an adieu to his friends.

  "Au revoir!" he sang out, his head projecting from the carriage window."Wish you chaps a jolly time. Rawlings won't be interfering with you."

  And that, indeed, was the thought of Clive and Bert and Hugh. To bequite truthful, the trio hardly now gave the immaculate Rawlings athought. For the downfall of that young gentleman had been very suddenand very evident. He was no longer a prefect. His haughty, airy wayswere gone. He was a changed individual. As for Trendall, the fatfellow's fat cheeks had seemed less fat of late. He had taken the lessonhe had received very much to heart, and as if he realised his formershortcomings, had actually drifted away from Rawlings. They were nolonger seen together. Their familiar figures, arm in arm, were no longerobserved on the playing fields. Instead, Trendall had moped for a while,and then had begun to draw other friends about him. Instead of a sulkynod, he now even deigned to smile at Susanne and the others, and onthis, the very last day of the term, he had made a confession.

  "Look here, you chaps," he said, somewhat lamely perhaps, for it wantedno little courage to tackle the matter, "I'm afraid I've been rather apig."

  "Eh? Er--oh--don't mention it," was Masters' instant rejoinder, somewhatcharacteristic of that young gentleman.

  "Shut up!" growled Susanne promptly. "Well, Trendall?" he saidencouragingly. "We don't think it."

  "Then I do. I've acted like a pig and a bounder, and I'm sorry. I'vebeen an ungrateful brute all along and want to apologise. It's late inthe day, of course, but then, there it is, I'm sorry."

  He held out a hand, lamely again, as if fearful that it would passunnoticed. But Susanne seized it instantly. It was like Susanne, thewarm-hearted Frenchman.

  "Good! Very good!" he said. "We're to be friends from now, eh? I'mglad."

  "So am I; it's no use being enemies," declared Bert, taking theproffered hand too.

  "Rotten!" reflected Clive. "It'll be something nice to look forward toafter the hols."

  "Ripping!" cried Masters warmly.

  And thus was the quarrel made up, much to the relief of all, andparticularly of Trendall. As for the guilt of the latter, together withRawlings, it had leaked out soon after their denouncement before theassembled school that Old B. had seen both cars at the flying meeting,and hearing of the accident had at once given information.

  Home at last! The escapade which had sent Clive and his friends toRanleigh seemed to have been forgotten. The Rector beamed on his boys.

  "Wouldn't have sent you at all if I'd known that young Darrell was goingto Ranleigh also," he laughed. "Of course, it meant more mischief. Thatyoung Darrell's a terrible fellow. Well, here you are, back again. Let'shope you'll have a fine holiday."

  "Vote we go prospecting," said Hugh, two days later, when all weresettled down. "There's that place we've gassed about so often."

  "Place? Lots of places everywhere, and we do nothing but gas," grumbledBert. "Which particular place?"

  "Merton Tower, of course, booby!" cried Clive. "You knew all along."

  "Well, there's a place called Merton Tower. What next?"

  "There's an ass known as Bert Seymour," declared his brother in disgust."As if you weren't there when we were talking."

  "Oh, I'm there nearly always," came the rejoinder, for the two brothersoften sparred. "But you do the talking, you and Clive. I have to listen.It's no wonder if I forget things. Let's get along. There's a tower, aplace, and I'm supposed to know that a place is this Merton Tower."

  If looks could have brought punishment, Bert would have been a sadindividual. He grinned at the threatening glances of his friends.

  "Well?" he demanded again, impatiently.

  "We're going to explore it," said Clive, forgetting his anger at theprospect before him. "It's said to be haunted."

  Hugh went a trifle pale. Ghost stories and tales of haunted housesalways had that effect on him.

  "Haunted?" he repeated in awed tones.

  "Rot!" reflected Bert rudely. "Stuff and nonsense!"

  "There's a mystery about the place," Clive proceeded, ignoring the lastremarks. "No one dares to enter. We tried once, Hugh and I."

  "And funked, eh? Saw the ghost and bolted."

  Bert chuckled loudly. It was true of him that he was as a rule alistener in the councils of these three. Often enough his dreamy eyestold that his thoughts were far away, probably on the cricket field,while the chatter of his friends passed unnoticed. But he had a habit ofsuddenly giving his attention, of picking out scraps which came to hisears and of ridiculing them. That was the time when Clive and Hughground their teeth, flashed indignant glances at him, and eventhreatened violence. Not that Bert minded. He often chuckled the louder.

  "We tried once, Hugh and I," repeated Clive with an effort. It was hardto keep one's temper with such a chap as Bert.

  "And bolted, probably at your own shadows," laughed his tormentor.

  "And were met by a rough fellow a hundred yards or so outside thetower."

  "Yes," agreed Hugh quickly. "He threatened to----"

  "Whop you, eh?" teased Bert.

  "To kill us if we didn't sling our hooks. That's why we bolted. He'd aknife," said Clive. "This time we go armed. Then, if it comes to aquestion of knives, why, we're ready."

  "Yes," Hugh backed him up. "Ready for anything."

  "And we're going to-day."

  "Now," said Hugh.

  "And expect me to risk it," laughed Bert. "Well, let's go. I'll backthere'll be no man to greet us. A few jackdaws perhaps, an odd crowtoo. But a man with a knife, never!"

  The co
nversation having come to an end amicably, Clive dived in at theback door of his mother's establishment, where with wonderful persuasivepowers, often practised it must be confessed, he managed to induce thecook to supply three bundles of provisions.

  "It'll save coming back for lunch, you chaps," he told them on hisreappearance. "We shall have lots of time to explore. Supposing we foundsomething."

  "Buried gold and jewels," cried Hugh, his eyes bulging.

  "Might happen," admitted the practical Bert. "There are lots of tales ofhidden wealth, and some of it gets discovered. There's a yarn about thisvery tower."

  "Gospel?" asked Clive with a jerk.

  "True as possible. Place attacked some time in the old days. Rich oldbounder in charge. Saw he hadn't a chance, and so dug a hole somewhereand buried his valuables. Supposing we came upon the spot. They say inthe village that attempts have been made. Once a bangle was discovered.Then one of the searchers fell into a well and that put an end to thebusiness. It was supposed to be haunted then, and the tale still holds.Lights have even been seen flitting about during the night."

  "And there's a tale of buried treasure?" asked Hugh eagerly.

  "Ask anyone in the village."

  "What'd we do if we found it?" gasped Clive. "I know--buy a real car."

  "Rather!" echoed Hugh.

  To which the careful Bert made the rejoinder: "Don't count your chickensbefore they're hatched. Still, if the tale's true, and I believe it, whyshouldn't we find the stuff? Clive'd buy back the place and kick theRawlings out. That'd be good, better than a car by a long way."

  By this time the trio were on the road astride their bicycles, and sincethe ruined tower for which they aimed was barely six miles distant, ittook them but a little while to approach it. Then a halt was called.

  "Better feed now and so have less to carry," suggested Hugh. "We'll beall the fitter for searching. By the way, supposing the door's shut.There was a door, wasn't there, Clive?"

  "That chap rushed out of one, anyway," came the answer. "Vote we gocautiously. Last time we went to the place across the fields and wereseen at once. Supposing we try through the copse at the back. That'llgive us cover right up to the doorway."

  The suggestion was voted to be a good one, as also that of Hugh. Thethree hopped off their machines, and selecting a sheltered spot by thehighway, sat on a gate and opened their parcels of provisions. The mealended, they mounted again and rode a mile farther, till they had passedthe tower on their right and were a little behind it. Then theydismounted, passed through a gap in a hedge, and plunged into the thickcover afforded by a copse which extended to the tower.

  "Safe to leave the bikes here," whispered Bert, who once he was embarkedon an adventure put his heart into it. "Let's make for that tree overthere. It's the nearest to the gap through which we entered, and alsothe tallest. Then we shall find them again easily."

  "Supposing someone else does?" asked Clive doubtfully.

  "And clears off? Mine belongs to the Governor," said Hugh, withrecollections of what had happened on a former occasion when he hadborrowed the Rector's belongings.

  "Not worth talking about," declared Bert emphatically. "No one saw usenter the copse. We made sure of that. Then who's to find the bikes? Ifit weren't for the tree here we ourselves would have a job when it comesto returning. Here we are; prop 'em against the trunk. Now for thetower."

  They thrust their way in Indian file through the copse, treading softly.Not that anyone was likely to overhear them. But then there might besomeone, as on that former occasion, and as all there were burning toinspect the place and enter the tower they determined to take allprecautions. There is this to be added also. Like many other peopleburning with enthusiasm, Clive and his friends had an inwardconsciousness that where others had failed they would succeed in findingthe wealth said to have been buried.

  Ten minutes later found them at the edge of the wood, within twentyyards of the tower. Brambles and scattered bunches of growth extendedright up to the moss-clad walls. As for the tower itself, it was a tall,somewhat dilapidated affair, but better preserved in one quarter, whereits battlements thrust upward toward the sky. Directly beneath them wasa wide archway, overhung by a gallery far up, through apertures in whichwarriors of old were wont to drop masses of stone upon the heads ofunwanted callers. Bert pointed them out to his comrades.

  "Splendid dodge!" he said. "Rather a shock for the fellows down below.Bet they bolted."

  "Those who could. A few hundredweights of stone fall with a bang," Clivereminded him. "Not much moving afterwards."

  "And look at the narrow slits behind which the chaps with the arrowsstood," whispered Hugh, pointing to narrow apertures flanking the door,and appearing at various heights till the battlements were reached."Wonder what it feels like to have an arrow in you?"

  Bert shuddered. "Ugh!" he reflected. "Let's get on. How are we toenter?"

  The puzzle was not an easy one to solve, for when they had left theircover and reached the door, the latter was found to be a massive affairand in splendid order. There was a postern in it, firmly padlocked,however. Not even the most agile could have clambered up, and had theybeen able there was no entry at the top of the door.

  "Done," groaned Hugh.

  "Let's see," whispered Clive. "Let's creep on round the foot of thetower and see what we come to."

  Brambles and ferns obstructed their path. A crumbling wall of stonecrossed it, and halting for a moment they saw that it turned abruptly tothe right some fifty yards away, and then again came towards thebuilding.

  "A courtyard or the garden in the old days," said Bert. "Wonder ifthat's where that old beggar hid the treasure?"

  "Ah!" It was a very shrewd suggestion. Clive stared about him with addedinterest. "Hardly likely," he ventured after a while. "The old chap wascooped up, isn't that the story?"

  "Yes; and hadn't a chance. Knew every farthing would be taken from him."

  "And so buried it."

  "Don't blame him either," declared Hugh. "But where would a fellow bemost likely to bury gold under the circumstances? Not in the garden."

  "Why not?" asked Bert curtly.

  "Because the enemy were round there without a doubt. Probably sat behindthe garden walls comfortably taking pot shots at the defenders. Lookthere, there's a hole in the tower right opposite. Bet you the cannonsmashed the stones in. That old cove couldn't have got to the garden."

  This seemed probable enough, and therefore the movement forward wasproceeded with. They skirted the moss-covered foot of the tower for somefifty paces, and though all observed that the battlements above them hadbeen much broken, and had disappeared altogether in parts, yet theheight of the walls was still so great that climbing was out of thequestion.

  "A flying machine'd be the thing," said Clive. "Looks as if we'd bebeaten."

  "And have to go back. Don't like that," reflected Bert.

  "Only we'd get there in time for lunch," Hugh reminded them. "That's oneconsolation."

  A complete circuit of the tower at length convinced them that entrancewas more difficult than they had anticipated, if not utterly impossible.Clive inspected the padlock on the postern and declared it to beunpickable. Hugh gazed aloft as if he expected to discover a danglingladder waiting conveniently for them. Then Bert made a movement.

  "I'm going to get into that tower whatever happens," he saidobstinately. "Even if it takes me a week I'm going to get inside."

  They would have cheered him if there had not been need for silence. Asit was, Clive slapped him approvingly on the back and then asked anall-important question.

  "How's it to be done? Creep in through one of those slits for firingarrows?" he asked in bantering tones. "Or dig a way under the wall? Thatsounds the most likely."

  "I'm going to climb by that ivy," was the steady answer. "You chaps canhang about down below to pick up the pieces. There's a window fifty feetup, just beneath the battlements, and the ivy goes right up over thetop, and's as thick as my leg. I'm going
to chance its bearing."

  When his friends came to inspect the place they were bound to admitthat the idea was practicable. At the same time it was risky,particularly for Bert. One would have thought that Hugh would have madethe attempt with greater chance of success, seeing that he was agymnast. But Bert was an obstinate fellow. He seldom shone in adventuresentered upon by the Old Firm. His comrades had come to look upon him asan excellent follower, an untiring though sometimes absent-mindedlistener, and as a youth with caustic and satirical wit, who at timesroused them to the height of anger. To hear him now obstinately declarehis intention of undertaking this difficult and dangerous task wasrather staggering.

  "Think you'll do it?" asked Clive doubtfully. "Awfully steep, eh?"

  "Walls usually are steep," came the grim rejoinder.

  "Ivy might be rotten. You ain't much good at climbing," ventured Hugh.

  "Because I'm never the one to show off," said Bert quickly. "I'm notmuch good. That I'll admit. At the same time I'm going up to thatwindow, or be smashed to a jelly down here. Naturally, as I dislike thethought of being smashed into a jelly, I shall hang on for all I'mworth, so, after all, the matter resolves itself into a question of thestrength of the ivy. I'm going."

  They watched the obstinate and foolhardy fellow commence his attempt,and more than once shivered as he appeared to be falling. Presently hehad reached a point high overhead and was still mounting. Indeed, inless than three minutes he had actually gained the window for which hewas making and was seen to be entering.

  "What one chap does, another can," said Clive. "I'm going to follow."

  "And I'll be after you in a winking. There's Bert waving to us. Up yougo. Who'd have thought the thing could be so easy?"

  But when he came himself to make the attempt Hugh found it none toolight a task. True, there were plenty of ivy stems to grip at, and anabundance of niches into which to thrust the feet. But the mass ofleaves clinging to their stems thrust one away from the wall. Sometimes,too, one of the stems proved elusive, and broke away from its fellows.But Clive at length reached the safety of the window, and Hugh afterhim.

  "Done it!" ejaculated Bert enthusiastically. "Now for a look round."

  "And the treasure," Hugh reminded him. "Those chaps who searched beforemay not have been able to get into the place. The doors were locked,perhaps."

  "I say," interrupted Clive, "wonder where that well is?"

  That set them thinking deeply. They stood at the edge of the windowlooking into the dark interior of the tower, wondering which way toturn, and where they would find security.

  "Beastly to fall into a well," reflected Bert. "Jolly dark in here, Ithink. Wish we'd brought candles."

  "Come on," said Hugh. "What's the good of funking? We're here, insidethe tower, and may as well make the most of our opportunities."

  Very gingerly indeed did they set about the exploration of the interior.Common sense told them that care would be needed. For the results ofdamp and decay and neglect were everywhere apparent. There were evenbushes growing on the stone floor upon which they now stood. A tree ofquite respectable proportions had taken root on the roof overhead, andits boughs dangled toward the window by which they had entered.

  Beyond, at the far side of the chamber to which their climb had broughtthem, there was a doorway, of stone like the rest of the building,though one of the blocks which went to make the roof of the arch hadtumbled from its position and lay broken in pieces on the floor. Hughled the way towards it, peered through, only to find that he waslooking into another room of vast proportions. Then he made for a narrowopening in the wall to his right, and began at once to ascend the stepsconstructed, as one could see, in the interior of the wall itself.

  "Leads to the roof," he whispered over his shoulder. "Let's have a lookround first."

  Perhaps they stayed ten minutes on the giddy perch to which their climbtook them. They gazed over the broken battlements. They peered downthrough those apertures through which the defenders had been wont todrop uncomfortable masses of rock on their attackers. They evenclambered to the summit of a tiny tower set up in one corner where,without doubt, the sentry in bygone days had taken up his station. Itcommanded a grand view of the surrounding country, and from it Clive wasable to look down upon the domain which his father had owned, and whichshould have been his one day but for the coming of those strangers. Thenthey turned from the roof, descended the steep flight of steps built inthe wall, and searched for an outlet to other parts of the building.Clive was the first to find it. Led by him the party descended to thenext floor, only to discover that here time and decay had done its workmore thoroughly. The floor was almost gone. One had to cross to adoorway opposite by walking on the top of the wall which had oncesupported the edge of the floor. He gained the doorway, devoid of doorlike all the rest in this building, peered through it into a place whichcommon sense told him must have been the upper part of a chapel, thoughthe roof was gone in one part. And then, of a sudden, he lifted a fingerto his lips.

  "Voices," he whispered incredulously. "I can hear men talking."

  "Certain! Sure!" agreed Bert. "Three different people, I think."

  "Down below too," chimed in Hugh, having joined them. "What's it mean?"

  After waiting there for perhaps five minutes, the three gently stoleacross the floor of what had probably been a gallery. Peering cautiouslyover the broken balustrade of this they looked below them. Then theywithdrew their heads suddenly. For four men were seated below about afire which blazed brightly in the ancient hearth of the old dwelling.Who they were or what they were none could guess; but this was certain:they were disreputable-looking, and one had a face which was familiar,while in the case of a second his head and shoulders were hidden by aportion of the masonry.

  "The fellow who chased us away once before," whispered Clive.

  "I'm certain," agreed Hugh, jerking his head decisively.

  "And--and, do you know, you fellows," said Bert, with greatdeliberation, "do you know that there have been a series of robberiesround these parts lately?"

  Hugh shook his head. Clive looked the question he wished to ask.

  "Well, there have been," added Bert, "and I wouldn't wonder if those arethe beggars."

  "Burglars?"

  "Yes," Bert answered curtly to Clive's question.

  "Then--er don't you think----?" began Hugh. "Don't you think it'd bewise for us to----?"

  "I don't," Bert responded abruptly. "I've got in here after a bit of aclimb. I'll see this thing to a finish. If they're burglars, all thebetter. Let's get back to the balustrade and listen."