Chapter 15
I
'What shall we do?' said Audrey.
She looked at me hopefully, as if I were a mine of ideas. Hervoice was level, without a suggestion of fear in it. Women havethe gift of being courageous at times when they might legitimatelygive way. It is part of their unexpectedness.
This was certainly such an occasion. Daylight would bring usrelief, for I did not suppose that even Buck MacGinnis would careto conduct a siege which might be interrupted by the arrival oftradesmen's carts; but while the darkness lasted we werecompletely cut off from the world. With the destruction of thetelephone wire our only link with civilization had been snapped.Even had the night been less stormy than it was, there was nochance of the noise of our warfare reaching the ears of anyone whomight come to the rescue. It was as Sam had said, Buck's energyunited to his strategy formed a strong combination.
Broadly speaking, there are only two courses open to a beleagueredgarrison. It can stay where it is, or it can make a sortie. Iconsidered the second of these courses.
It was possible that Sam and his allies had departed in theautomobile to get reinforcements, leaving the coast temporarilyclear; in which case, by escaping from the house at once, we mightbe able to slip unobserved through the grounds and reach thevillage in safety. To support this theory there was the fact thatthe car, on its late visit, had contained only the chauffeur andthe two ambassadors, while Sam had spoken of the remainder ofBuck's gang as being in readiness to attack in the event of my notcoming to terms. That might mean that they were waiting at Buck'sheadquarters, wherever those might be--at one of the cottages downthe road, I imagined; and, in the interval before the attackbegan, it might be possible for us to make our sortie withsuccess.
'Is Ogden in bed?' I asked.
'Yes.'
'Will you go and get him up as quickly as you can?'
I strained my eyes at the window, but it was impossible to seeanything. The rain was still falling heavily. If the drive hadbeen full of men they would have been invisible to me.
Presently Audrey returned, followed by Ogden. The Little Nuggetwas yawning the aggrieved yawns of one roused from his beautysleep.
'What's all this?' he demanded.
'Listen,' I said. 'Buck MacGinnis and Smooth Sam Fisher have comeafter you. They are outside now. Don't be frightened.'
He snorted derisively.
'Who's frightened? I guess they won't hurt _me_. How do you knowit's them?'
'They have just been here. The man who called himself White, thebutler, was really Sam Fisher. He has been waiting an opportunityto get you all the term.'
'White! Was he Sam Fisher?' He chuckled admiringly. 'Say, he's awonder!'
'They have gone to fetch the rest of the gang.'
'Why don't you call the cops?'
'They have cut the wire.'
His only emotions at the news seemed to be amusement and a renewedadmiration for Smooth Sam. He smiled broadly, the little brute.
'He's a wonder!' he repeated. 'I guess he's smooth, all right.He's the limit! He'll get me all right this trip. I bet you anickel he wins out.'
I found his attitude trying. That he, the cause of all the trouble,should be so obviously regarding it as a sporting contest got upfor his entertainment, was hard to bear. And the fact that, whatevermight happen to myself, he was in no danger, comforted me not at all.If I could have felt that we were in any way companions in peril,I might have looked on the bulbous boy with quite a friendly eye.As it was, I nearly kicked him.
'We had better waste no time,' suggested Audrey, 'if we are going.'
'I think we ought to try it,' I said.
'What's that?' asked the Nugget. 'Go where?'
'We are going to steal out through the back way and try to slipthrough to the village.'
The Nugget's comment on the scheme was brief and to the point. Hedid not embarrass me with fulsome praise of my strategic genius.
'Of all the fool games!' he said simply. 'In this rain? No, sir!'
This new complication was too much for me. In planning out mymanoeuvres I had taken his cooperation for granted. I had lookedon him as so much baggage--the impedimenta of the retreating army.And, behold, a mutineer!
I took him by the scruff of the neck and shook him. It was arelief to my feelings and a sound move. The argument was one whichhe understood.
'Oh, all right,' he said. 'Anything you like. Come on. But it soundsto me like darned foolishness!'
If nothing else had happened to spoil the success of that sortie,the Nugget's depressing attitude would have done so. Of all things,it seems to me, a forlorn hope should be undertaken with a certainenthusiasm and optimism if it is to have a chance of being successful.Ogden threw a gloom over the proceedings from the start. He was crossand sleepy, and he condemned the expedition unequivocally. As we movedtowards the back door he kept up a running stream of abusive comment.I silenced him before cautiously unbolting the door, but he had saidenough to damp my spirits. I do not know what effect it would havehad on Napoleon's tactics if his army--say, before Austerlitz--hadspoken of his manoeuvres as a 'fool game' and of himself as a 'bigchump', but I doubt if it would have stimulated him.
The back door of Sanstead House opened on to a narrow yard, pavedwith flagstones and shut in on all sides but one by walls. To theleft was the outhouse where the coal was stored, a squat barnlikebuilding: to the right a wall that appeared to have been erectedby the architect in an outburst of pure whimsicality. It juststood there. It served no purpose that I had ever been able todiscover, except to act as a cats' club-house.
Tonight, however, I was thankful for this wall. It formed animportant piece of cover. By keeping in its shelter it waspossible to work round the angle of the coal-shed, enter thestable-yard, and, by making a detour across the football field,avoid the drive altogether. And it was the drive, in my opinion,that might be looked on as the danger zone.
The Nugget's complaints, which I had momentarily succeeded inchecking, burst out afresh as the rain swept in at the open doorand lashed our faces. Certainly it was not an ideal night for aramble. The wind was blowing through the opening at the end of theyard with a compressed violence due to the confined space. Therewas a suggestion in our position of the Cave of the Winds underNiagara Falls, the verisimilitude of which was increased by thestream of water that poured down from the gutter above our heads.The Nugget found it unpleasant, and said so shrilly.
I pushed him out into the storm, still protesting, and we began tocreep across the yard. Half-way to the first point of importanceof our journey, the corner of the coal-shed, I halted theexpedition. There was a sudden lull in the wind, and I tookadvantage of it to listen.
From somewhere beyond the wall, apparently near the house, soundedthe muffled note of the automobile. The siege-party had returned.
There was no time to be lost. Apparently the possibility of asortie had not yet occurred to Sam, or he would hardly have leftthe back door unguarded; but a general of his astuteness wascertain to remedy the mistake soon, and our freedom of actionmight be a thing of moments. It behoved us to reach the stable-yardas quickly as possible. Once there, we should be practically throughthe enemy's lines.
Administering a kick to the Nugget, who showed a disposition tolinger and talk about the weather, I moved on, and we reached thecorner of the coal-shed in safety.
We had now arrived at the really perilous stage in our journey.Having built his wall to a point level with the end of the coal-shed,the architect had apparently wearied of the thing and given it up;for it ceased abruptly, leaving us with a matter of half a dozenyards of open ground to cross, with nothing to screen us from thewatchers on the drive. The flagstones, moreover, stopped at thispoint. On the open space was loose gravel. Even if the darknessallowed us to make the crossing unseen, there was the risk that wemight be heard.
It was a moment for a flash of inspiration, and I was waiting forone, when that happened which took the problem out of my hands.From the interi
or of the shed on our left there came a suddenscrabbling of feet over loose coal, and through the square openingin the wall, designed for the peaceful purpose of taking in sacks,climbed two men. A pistol cracked. From the drive came ananswering shout. We had been ambushed.
I had misjudged Sam. He had not overlooked the possibility of asortie.
It is the accidents of life that turn the scale in a crisis. Theopening through which the men had leaped was scarcely a couple ofyards behind the spot where we were standing. If they had leapedfairly and kept their feet, they would have been on us before wecould have moved. But Fortune ordered it that, zeal outrunningdiscretion, the first of the two should catch his foot in thewoodwork and fall on all fours, while the second, unable to checkhis spring, alighted on top of him, and, judging from the stifledyell which followed, must have kicked him in the face.
In the moment of their downfall I was able to form a plan andexecute it.
'The stables!'
I shouted the words to Audrey in the act of snatching up theNugget and starting to run. She understood. She did not hesitatein the direction of the house for even the instant which mighthave undone us, but was with me at once; and we were across theopen space and in the stable-yard before the first of the men inthe drive loomed up through the darkness. Half of the woodendouble-gate of the yard was open, and the other half served us asa shield. They fired as they ran--at random, I think, for it wastoo dark for them to have seen us clearly--and two bullets slappedagainst the gate. A third struck the wall above our heads andricocheted off into the night. But before they could fire again wewere in the stables, the door slammed behind us, and I had dumpedthe Nugget on the floor, and was shooting the heavy bolts intotheir places. Footsteps clattered over the flagstones and stoppedoutside. Some weighty body plunged against the door. Then therewas silence. The first round was over.
The stables, as is the case in most English country-houses, hadbeen, in its palmy days, the glory of Sanstead House. In whateverother respect the British architect of that period may have fallenshort, he never scamped his work on the stables. He built themstrong and solid, with walls fitted to repel the assaults of theweather, and possibly those of men as well, for the Boones intheir day had been mighty owners of race-horses at a time when menwith money at stake did not stick at trifles, and it was prudentto see to it that the spot where the favourite was housed hadsomething of the nature of a fortress. The walls were thick, thedoor solid, the windows barred with iron. We could scarcely havefound a better haven of refuge.
Under Mr Abney's rule, the stables had lost their originalcharacter. They had been divided into three compartments, eachseparated by a stout wall. One compartment became a gymnasium,another the carpenter's shop, the third, in which we were,remained a stable, though in these degenerate days no horse everset foot inside it, its only use being to provide a place for theodd-job man to clean shoes. The mangers which had once held fodderwere given over now to brushes and pots of polish. In term-time,bicycles were stored in the loose-box which had once echoed to thetramping of Derby favourites.
I groped about among the pots and brushes, and found a candle-end,which I lit. I was running a risk, but it was necessary to inspectour ground. I had never troubled really to examine this stablebefore, and I wished to put myself in touch with its geography.
I blew out the candle, well content with what I had seen. The onlytwo windows were small, high up, and excellently barred. Even ifthe enemy fired through them there were half a dozen spots wherewe should be perfectly safe. Best of all, in the event of the doorbeing carried by assault, we had a second line of defence in aloft. A ladder against the back wall led to it, by way of a trap-door.Circumstances had certainly been kind to us in driving us to thisapparently impregnable shelter.
On concluding my inspection, I became aware that the Nugget wasstill occupied with his grievances. I think the shots must havestimulated his nerve centres, for he had abandoned the languiddrawl with which, in happier moments, he was wont to comment onlife's happenings, and was dealing with the situation with astaccato briskness.
'Of all the darned fool lay-outs I ever struck, this is the limit.What do those idiots think they're doing, shooting us up that way?It went within an inch of my head. It might have killed me. Gee,and I'm all wet. I'm catching cold. It's all through your blamedfoolishness, bringing us out here. Why couldn't we stay in thehouse?'
'We could not have kept them out of the house for five minutes,' Iexplained. 'We can hold this place.'
'Who wants to hold it? I don't. What does it matter if they do getme? _I_ don't care. I've a good mind to walk straight out throughthat door and let them rope me in. It would serve Dad right. Itwould teach him not to send me away from home to any darned schoolagain. What did he want to do it for? I was all right where I was.I--'
A loud hammering on the door cut off his eloquence. Theintermission was over, and the second round had begun.
It was pitch dark in the stable now that I had blown out thecandle, and there is something about a combination of noise anddarkness which tries the nerves. If mine had remained steady, Ishould have ignored the hammering. From the sound, it appeared tobe made by some wooden instrument--a mallet from the carpenter'sshop I discovered later--and the door could be relied on to holdits own without my intervention. For a novice to violence,however, to maintain a state of calm inaction is the mostdifficult feat of all. I was irritated and worried by the noise,and exaggerated its importance. It seemed to me that it must bestopped at once.
A moment before, I had bruised my shins against an empty packing-case,which had found its way with other lumber into the stable. I gropedfor this, swung it noiselessly into position beneath the window,and, standing on it, looked out. I found the catch of the window,and opened it. There was nothing to be seen, but the sound of thehammering became more distinct; and pushing an arm through the bars,I emptied my pistol at a venture.
As a practical move, the action had flaws. The shots cannot havegone anywhere near their vague target. But as a demonstration, itwas a wonderful success. The yard became suddenly full of dancingbullets. They struck the flagstones, bounded off, chipped thebricks of the far wall, ricocheted from those, buzzed in alldirections, and generally behaved in a manner calculated to unmanthe stoutest hearted.
The siege-party did not stop to argue. They stampeded as one man.I could hear them clattering across the flagstones to every pointof the compass. In a few seconds silence prevailed, broken only bythe swish of the rain. Round two had been brief, hardly worthy tobe called a round at all, and, like round one, it had ended whollyin our favour.
I jumped down from my packing-case, swelling with pride. I had hadno previous experience of this sort of thing, yet here I washandling the affair like a veteran. I considered that I had aright to feel triumphant. I lit the candle again, and beamedprotectively upon the garrison.
The Nugget was sitting on the floor, gaping feebly, and awed forthe moment into silence. Audrey, in the far corner, looked palebut composed. Her behaviour was perfect. There was nothing for herto do, and she was doing it with a quiet self-control which wonmy admiration. Her manner seemed to me exactly suited to theexigencies of the situation. With a super-competent dare-devillike myself in charge of affairs, all she had to do was to waitand not get in the way.
'I didn't hit anybody,' I announced, 'but they ran like rabbits.They are all over Hampshire.'
I laughed indulgently. I could afford an attitude of tolerantamusement towards the enemy.
'Will they come back?'
'Possibly. And in that case'--I felt in my left-hand coat-pocket--'Ihad better be getting ready.' I felt in my right-hand coat-pocket.'Ready,' I repeated blankly. A clammy coldness took possession of me.My voice trailed off into nothingness. For in neither pocket wasThere a single one of the shells with which I had fancied that Iwas abundantly provided. In moments of excitement man is apt to makemistakes. I had made mine when, starting out on the sortie, I hadleft all my ammunition in the house.
II
I should like to think that it was an unselfish desire to spare mycompanions anxiety that made me keep my discovery to myself. But Iam afraid that my reticence was due far more to the fact that Ishrank from letting the Nugget discover my imbecile carelessness.Even in times of peril one retains one's human weaknesses; and Ifelt that I could not face his comments. If he had permitted acertain note of querulousness to creep into his conversationalready, the imagination recoiled from the thought of the causticdepths he would reach now should I reveal the truth.
I tried to make things better with cheery optimism.
'_They_ won't come back!' I said stoutly, and tried to believe it.
The Nugget as usual struck the jarring note.
'Well, then, let's beat it,' he said. 'I don't want to spend thenight in this darned icehouse. I tell you I'm catching cold. Mychest's weak. If you're so dead certain you've scared them away,let's quit.'
I was not prepared to go as far as this.
'They may be somewhere near, hiding.'
'Well, what if they are? I don't mind being kidnapped. Let's go.'
'I think we ought to wait,' said Audrey.
'Of course,' I said. 'It would be madness to go out now.'
'Oh, pshaw!' said the Little Nugget; and from this point onwardspunctuated the proceedings with a hacking cough.
I had never really believed that my demonstration had brought thesiege to a definite end. I anticipated that there would be somedelay before the renewal of hostilities, but I was too wellacquainted with Buck MacGinnis's tenacity to imagine that he wouldabandon his task because a few random shots had spread momentarypanic in his ranks. He had all the night before him, and sooner orlater he would return.
I had judged him correctly. Many minutes dragged wearily bywithout a sign from the enemy, then, listening at the window, Iheard footsteps crossing the yard and voices talking in cautiousundertones. The fight was on once more.
A bright light streamed through the window, flooding the openingand spreading in a wide circle on the ceiling. It was notdifficult to understand what had happened. They had gone to theautomobile and come back with one of the head-lamps, an astutemove in which I seemed to see the finger of Sam. The danger-spotthus rendered harmless, they renewed their attack on the door witha reckless vigour. The mallet had been superseded by some heavierinstrument--of iron this time. I think it must have been the jackfrom the automobile. It was a more formidable weapon altogetherthan the mallet, and even our good oak door quivered under it.
A splintering of wood decided me that the time had come to retreatto our second line of entrenchments. How long the door would holdit was impossible to say, but I doubted if it was more than amatter of minutes.
Relighting my candle, which I had extinguished from motives ofeconomy, I caught Audrey's eye and jerked my head towards theladder.
'You go first,' I whispered.
The Nugget watched her disappear through the trap-door, thenturned to me with an air of resolution.
'If you think you're going to get _me_ up there, you'veanother guess coming. I'm going to wait here till they get in, andlet them take me. I'm about tired of this foolishness.'
It was no time for verbal argument. I collected him, a kickinghandful, bore him to the ladder, and pushed him through theopening. He uttered one of his devastating squeals. The soundseemed to encourage the workers outside like a trumpet-blast. Theblows on the door redoubled.
I climbed the ladder and shut the trap-door behind me.
The air of the loft was close and musty and smelt of mildewed hay.It was not the sort of spot which one would have selected of one'sown free will to sit in for any length of time. There was a rustlingnoise, and a rat scurried across the rickety floor, drawing astartled gasp from Audrey and a disgusted 'Oh, piffle!' from theNugget. Whatever merits this final refuge might have as a stronghold,it was beyond question a noisome place.
The beating on the stable-door was working up to a crescendo.Presently there came a crash that shook the floor on which we satand sent our neighbours, the rats, scuttling to and fro in aperfect frenzy of perturbation. The light of the automobile lamppoured in through the numerous holes and chinks which the passageof time had made in the old boards. There was one large hole nearthe centre which produced a sort of searchlight effect, andallowed us for the first time to see what manner of place it wasin which we had entrenched ourselves. The loft was high andspacious. The roof must have been some seven feet above our heads.I could stand upright without difficulty.
In the proceedings beneath us there had come a lull. The mysteryof our disappearance had not baffled the enemy for long, for almostimmediately the rays of the lamp had shifted and begun to play onthe trap-door. I heard somebody climb the ladder, and the trap-doorcreaked gently as a hand tested it. I had taken up a position besideit, ready, if the bolt gave way, to do what I could with the butt ofmy pistol, my only weapon. But the bolt, though rusty, was strong,and the man dropped to the ground again. Since then, except foroccasional snatches of whispered conversation, I had heard nothing.
Suddenly Sam's voice spoke.
'Mr Burns!'
I saw no advantage in remaining silent.
'Well?'
'Haven't you had enough of this? You've given us a mighty good runfor our money, but you can see for yourself that you're throughnow. I'd hate like anything for you to get hurt. Pass the kiddown, and we'll call it off.'
He paused.
'Well?' he said. 'Why don't you answer?'
'I did.'
'Did you? I didn't hear you.'
'I smiled.'
'You mean to stick it out? Don't be foolish, sonny. The boys hereare mad enough at you already. What's the use of getting yourselfin bad for nothing? We've got you in a pocket. I know all about thatgun of yours, young fellow. I had a suspicion what had happened,and I've been into the house and found the shells you forgot totake with you. So, if you were thinking of making a bluff in thatdirection forget it!'
The exposure had the effect I had anticipated.
'Of all the chumps!' exclaimed the Nugget caustically. 'You oughtto be in a home. Well, I guess you'll agree to end this foolishnessnow? Let's go down and get it over and have some peace. I'm gettingpneumonia.'
'You're quite right, Mr Fisher,' I said. 'But don't forget I stillhave the pistol, even if I haven't the shells. The first man whotries to come up here will have a headache tomorrow.'
'I shouldn't bank on it, sonny. Come along, kiddo! You're done. Begood, and own it. We can't wait much longer.'
'You'll have to try.'
Buck's voice broke in on the discussion, quite unintelligibleexcept that it was obviously wrathful.
'Oh well!' I heard Sam say resignedly, and then there was silenceagain below.
I resumed my watch over the trap-door, encouraged. This parleying,I thought, was an admission of failure on the part of thebesiegers. I did not credit Sam with a real concern for mywelfare--thereby doing him an injustice. I can see now that hespoke perfectly sincerely. The position, though I was unaware ofit, really was hopeless, for the reason that, like most positions,it had a flank as well as a front. In estimating the possibilitiesof attack, I had figured assaults as coming only from below. I hadomitted from my calculations the fact that the loft had a roof.
It was a scraping on the tiles above my head that first broughtthe new danger-point to my notice. There followed the sound ofheavy hammering, and with it came a sickening realization of thetruth of what Sam had said. We were beaten.
I was too paralysed by the unexpectedness of the attack to formany plan; and, indeed, I do not think that there was anything thatI could have done. I was unarmed and helpless. I stood there,waiting for the inevitable.
Affairs moved swiftly. Plaster rained down on to the wooden floor.I was vaguely aware that the Nugget was speaking, but I did notlisten to him.
A gap appeared in the roof and widened. I could hear the heavybreathing of the man as he wrenched at the tiles.
And then the climax arrived, with anticlimax following so swiftlyupon it that the two were almost simultaneous. I saw the worker onthe roof cautiously poise himself in the opening, hunched up likesome strange ape. The next moment he had sprung.
As his feet touched the floor there came a rending, splinteringcrash; the air was filled with a choking dust, and he was gone.The old worn out boards had shaken under my tread. They had givenway in complete ruin beneath this sharp onslaught. The rays of thelamp, which had filtered in like pencils of light throughcrevices, now shone in a great lake in the centre of the floor.
In the stable below all was confusion. Everybody was speaking atonce. The hero of the late disaster was groaning horribly, forwhich he certainly had good reason: I did not know the extent ofhis injuries, but a man does not do that sort of thing withimpunity. The next of the strange happenings of the night nowoccurred.
I had not been giving the Nugget a great deal of my attention forsome time, other and more urgent matters occupying me.
His action at this juncture, consequently, came as a complete andcrushing surprise.
I was edging my way cautiously towards the jagged hole in thecentre of the floor, in the hope of seeing something of what wasgoing on below, when from close beside me his voice screamed.'It's me, Ogden Ford. I'm coming!' and, without further warning,he ran to the hole, swung himself over, and dropped.
Manna falling from the skies in the wilderness never received amore whole-hearted welcome. Howls and cheers and ear-splittingwhoops filled the air. The babel of talk broke out again. Someexuberant person found expression of his joy in emptying hispistol at the ceiling, to my acute discomfort, the spot he hadselected as a target chancing to be within a foot of where Istood. Then they moved off in a body, still cheering. The fightwas over.
I do not know how long it was before I spoke. It may have beensome minutes. I was dazed with the swiftness with which the finalstages of the drama had been played out. If I had given him moreof my attention, I might have divined that Ogden had been waitinghis opportunity to make some such move; but, as it was, thepossibility had not even occurred to me, and I was stunned.
In the distance I heard the automobile moving off down the drive.The sound roused me.
'Well, we may as well go,' I said dully. I lit the candle and heldit up. Audrey was standing against the wall, her face white andset.
I raised the trap-door and followed her down the ladder.
The rain had ceased, and the stars were shining. After thecloseness of the loft, the clean wet air was delicious. For amoment we stopped, held by the peace and stillness of the night.
Then, quite suddenly, she broke down.
It was the unexpectedness of it that first threw me off my balance.In all the time I had known her, I had never before seen Audrey intears. Always, in the past, she had borne the blows of fate with astoical indifference which had alternately attracted and repelledme, according as my mood led me to think it courage or insensibility.In the old days, it had done much, this trait of hers, to rear abarrier between us. It had made her seem aloof and unapproachable.Subconsciously, I suppose, it had offended my egoism that she shouldbe able to support herself in times of trouble, and not feel itnecessary to lean on me.
And now the barrier had fallen. The old independence, the almostaggressive self-reliance, had vanished. A new Audrey had revealedherself.
She was sobbing helplessly, standing quite still, her arms hangingand her eyes staring blankly before her. There was something inher attitude so hopeless, so beaten, that the pathos of it seemedto cut me like a knife.
'Audrey!'
The stars glittered in the little pools among the worn flagstones.The night was very still. Only the steady drip of water from thetrees broke the silence.
A great wave of tenderness seemed to sweep from my mind everythingin the world but her. Everything broke abruptly that had beenchecking me, stifling me, holding me gagged and bound since thenight when our lives had come together again after those five longyears. I forgot Cynthia, my promise, everything.
'Audrey!'
She was in my arms, clinging to me, murmuring my name. Thedarkness was about us like a cloud.
And then she had slipped from me, and was gone.