CHAPTER XXII
THE MILE-CASTLE
Olwen opened her eyes. She was lying full length upon the ground, andit was very dark. She could smell damp earth, and for a minute shethought she was dead and buried. Her head swam and ached, but she couldmove her hands, and she began cautiously to feel about her. There was acoat under her, and some kind of pillow supported her head: but she wasvery cold. She shivered, and felt deadly sick. What had happened?
"Mr. Guyse!" she called sharply, and when nobody answered she cried outaloud in terror.
All was very still, she could not hear a sound. With a dreadful effortshe sat upright, and putting up her hand to her head, found that it wasbandaged. So dizzy did the exertion make her that she leaned sideways,unable to sit erect. Her sore head found itself in contact with roughstone. She gasped, in pain and fear--fear of the black, lonely silence.Leaning so, she wept a while, helplessly, then made an attempt to rise,but was forced to lie down again abruptly.
A hammer was beating in her brain, thump, thump, thump. It impededthought. All attempt to remember how she came to be in her presentplight failed. With the feeling that she was hopelessly defeated, thatshe could not struggle with pitiless circumstances, she lay down againand sobbed weakly, the tears rolling down undried, since she hadsearched her pockets in vain for the handkerchief which should have beenthere.
Just as she was wondering how much longer she could bear her misery, sheheard a slight sound, like the lifting of a latch. Then came breathingand a footstep. "Ninian?" she cried, affrighted.
"All right, I'm here," was the reply, and her relief took the form of anew burst of blinding tears.
She heard him moving vaguely, cautiously, but could see nothing. Heseemed to be putting something down on the ground. Then she felt himapproach. Now he was crouching at her side. There came the scrape of amatch, and its flicker showed her his haggard face.
"Well, you're alive," he said, "and that's something, you know."
She struggled to keep back the tears. "Where--where are we?" shemanaged to articulate. His grin somehow reassured her.
"Where you were so anxious to find yourself--in the mile-castle," hereplied.
The match died away, and again utter darkness fell. She had glimpsed thenarrow confines of the shelter which covered them.
"I expect you feel pretty bad?" His voice sounded anxiously beside her.
"Yes--no. Don't ask me," she sobbed. "I'm such a silly--fool--I can'thelp it. I'll--stop in a minute."
"Of course," he said, "I know. Never mind. We shall do fine. I'm sureI've done the right thing. We're safe inside the only shelter I know ofwithin three miles; but the snow and the dark are both upon us. Poorlittle girl!"
"N-never mind. It can't be helped! I shall feel better presently."
"Sure thing. Meanwhile----" he had found her hand and held it, "Youare as cold as a stone."
She shuddered as she answered "Yes."
"The trouble is that I can't light a fire. The silly blighter whodesigned this mansion built it without a chimney. I've been out insearch of fuel. No wood to be found, nothing but dead grass, brackenand thorns. It's a bit damp and would smoke us out, I'm afraid, if Iventured to light it."
"Oh, but we can go on--soon. When I feel--able."
"Nothin' doin'. You could no more walk three miles against this stormthan you could fly, in your present plight. And in spite of what I saidabout your feather-weight, I couldn't carry you--at least not till I'vehad a good rest. It was as much as I could do to get you up here. Idon't know how I did it!"
"Tell me," she answered faintly; but he replied:
"Presently, when you're a bit more recovered. Now I've got a drop ofcomfort. Sunia put a thermos flask full of hot tea into my rucksack. Iam going to give you a cup of that, which will warm you a bit. I havemy electric torch in my pocket, but I fear it won't last long. I know itneeds recharging. Let me give you a hot drink, cover you up as warmlyas I can, and then I'll try and make Wade's road to the south. I might,perhaps, find the Twice-Brewed Inn with luck."
She cried out vehemently. "Oh, no, no! I don't think I could bear tobe left. Don't go! Don't go! You would not be able to find your way inthis storm, and--and if you were lost nobody would ever find me, or knowwhere I am, would they?"
He was silent. He knew that for him to wander out into the nowimpenetrable darkness, with the storm rising every moment, would be amad venture. He had suggested it half because he thought she mightexpect it of him, or at least, that she might feel more at ease if hewere not there. It was an awkward situation, but fortunately for theman, she left him in no doubt as to her own feelings in the matter. Herhands were clutching his coat, he could feel the rigors that shook herslight body.
"Don't be angry with me, but you mustn't go! Oh, please don't gounless--unless you think it is horrid of me; do what you yourself thinkwill be best! I don't want to be unrea-rea-reasonable."
He took the groping hands and held them firmly. "To tell you thetruth," he said quietly, "I believe that the best chance for you and meto come through this night alive is for us to stay together. At leastwe are in shelter, and if the snow gets piled up around the walls weshall be more sheltered still. We have some wraps, and if two peoplehuddle closely together they are twice as warm as one would be alone."
"You r-really think so? You are not s-saying so just to pacify me?"
"I really think so, you poor kiddie. Now I am going to give you thattea, and we will have a few minutes' light upon the subject."
He fixed his torch, and set it down upon the ground while he found hisrucksack and took out a cup and the thermos flask. Olwen was sounnerved that he had to hold the cup to her lips; but when once shetasted the tea, its effect was almost instantaneous.
"Ah, how good! How good!" she murmured. "Now you have some, too."
"Oh, I don't want the muck," said he. "Tea's not my line, you know. Iwish I had a brandy flask here, though."
However, she would not allow him to go without the hot drink he sourgently required. She would take no excuse, and he saw that to refusewould be to distress her cruelly. He made a bargain, however. He woulddrink if she would eat a sponge cake. To this she agreed, but found shehad promised more than she could perform. He was glad to finish a fewsandwiches which they had left from lunch, and found himself feeling alittle less fagged when he had done so.
Their refuge contained nothing except a few sheets of corrugated ironstanding up against the wall, one or two hurdles, and a heap of sand inone corner. The sand was dry and soft.
The snow without had already stopped the whistling draught which hadentered under the door. A hiatus between the walls and the roof let inplenty of air for ventilation. He put on his coat, which he had takenoff to cover Olwen when he went out to look for fuel. Then he unrolledher own rain-coat, which had been pillowing her head, and wrapped her init, taking his own overcoat up from the floor whereon he had spread it.Next he arranged some of the sand as a sitting-place for himself, withthe main heap against his left elbow, to serve as a support. On thisheap he set his electric torch, within hand's reach. Then he raised theexhausted girl from the ground, and carefully sat down with her in hisarms, the arm which pillowed her head resting on the sandbank. Hecovered her feet with the grass and bracken he had brought in, and drewhis own overcoat right over them both. She lay as though in a cradle,and as his back was supported against the wall behind, and he hadarranged the hurdles so that his drawn-up knees would not slip, he feltthat he could maintain his position for a long time without too muchdiscomfort.
She gave a little sighing gasp as he settled her gently in his arms.She had closed her eyes, for her feelings overwhelmed her. He thoughther either asleep or unconscious.
With a premonition that, as the night wore on, he might need light morethan he needed it now, he switched off his torch. The black stillnessenfolded the two of them. T
his time, however, it was not the horriblesilence of desertion to Olwen, for she could feel the pumping of thatvigorous and healthy organ which Ninian called his heart, very near herown ear.
For a considerable while they sat in silence, while by degrees a blessedwarmth stole over the shivering girl. There was something most consolingin the close contact. Either the hot tea, or the wrappings, or thecurrent of sympathy flowing between the two, was soothing the pain inher head, and making her feel more like herself. Her voice, coming fromthe engulfing darkness, made him start.
"I am remembering," she said. "A bit of rock came down ... and I fell.But we are not down, but up!--I don't understand! How could youpossibly get me up here?"
He laughed. "Ask me an easier one. I simply don't know. I clung therelike a stuck pig for a time, which seemed like an hour to me, with youhanging across my shoulder like a sack of coals. You were completelyunconscious, and I was so panic-stricken that I believe I laughed outloud and long. However, after a time it occurred to me that I hadbetter get a move on, and my mind began to work in a funny, jerkyfashion. First I thought it would be much easier to get down than up,and instinctively I acted on that belief, and went down a step or two,in order to do which I had to move a little to one side. Then I lookedbelow, and caught a peep of the ice. The rock you sent down had brokenit to shivers, just exactly at the place where I should have to step. Iknow the lake is forty feet deep there, and I thought if you and Idropped in, that would just about finish us. Then I began to calculatethe chances of getting to any kind of shelter before it grew dark or thesnow came. I couldn't think of any blessed plan. Hotwells Farm is thenearest, and it is three miles if it's a step. All at once I rememberedthis little cubby hole, and I thought 'If I can only get her there I canat least lay her down while I run and fetch help.'"
"Oh, I'm so sorry," wailed a sad little voice from the regions of hiswaistcoat.
"Why are you sorry? Because I thought of this place?"
"No, but because it was my fault we went down the cliff. You wanted togo round."
"Shucks! How could you know the perishing old rock would punch you onthe head? Well, when I thought of this place I saw that it was my onechance; but it meant going up and not down. Then it dawned upon myfuddle brains that I was much nearer the top than the bottom; andlooking up from where I then stood I could see, almost as though it hadbeen made on purpose for me, a kind of a goat path, running up sideways.Providentially, you had draped yourself around me just in the handiestway, so I set out ... I tell you it was nasty. I shall be surprised ifthey give me anything much worse to do in hell than that journey. I hadto stop and rearrange myself and you afresh after every step. I had tocrawl on hands and knees. I had to keep wiping the perspiration out ofmy eyes; and the blood from your head kept dripping down on the stonesas I crawled and crept, with one arm to steady you and one arm and twolegs to haul with. Two or three times I said to myself, 'You're done inat last.' But I wasn't. I got to the top one day, I think it was abouttwo months after I started, and I laid you down."
He stopped. His breath was coming very quickly, and the arms that heldher under the big coat tightened their grip. "Forgive me," hestammered.
"Forgive you?" she whispered, faintly interrogative.