Red In The Morning (14 page)

“It is essential, of course: but I do not want battles here. For years I have–”

“–what you want,” spat Gedge. “You’ve had a — good run.”

“—!” screamed the other. “I will not bear your brunt. This is my property, and if those entries are forced–”

“They will be,” said Gedge, “tonight. Bagot knows: and Mansel will come that way. But that’s the last move he’ll make. — it, the thing’s too easy. He lifts the first an’ warns us: to lift the second’ll take him all of an hour. An’ then…”

Again he sucked in his breath.

De Parol covered his face and rocked himself to and fro.

“Don’t worry, Horace,” said Brevet. “The curtains can be repaired: but to reconstruct Captain Mansel will be a magician’s job. The simplest way will be for him to be born again.”

The Baron waved him away.

“You are wolves in sheepskin,” he said.

The Stoat was glaring at me.

“Take Samson away,” she said. “He makes me sick.”

Brevet glanced at Gedge.

“Take him back,” said the other. “I’ll be along.”

As we passed down the passage –

“Can I wash again?” I said.

Brevet shook his head.

“Gedge would misconstrue the indulgence; and as I think it likely that we shall be roused tonight, I don’t want to have a scene just before I retire. Besides, if Gedge is right, and Mansel does force the curtains, you, too, will put on incorruption within the hour.”

Feeling desperately uneasy –

“How many volts,” said I, “is he going to meet?”

“None,” said Brevet, opening the storeroom’s door. “He’ll just be floodlit. That’s all. He will be blinded, but we shall be able to see. Lie down where you were before. He’ll like to bind you himself.”

I moved to the pile of sacks and wiped my face upon them as best I could. Then I sat down by the pillow which I had made.

Brevet took his seat on the table and picked up the pliers.

“‘The Blight that Failed,’” he said. “There are times, you know, when Mona is very quick. She’s a girl of parts, The Stoat: and terribly good at her job.”

“What is her job?” said I.

“She carries the excellent notes which Horace turns out. All over the world. And never puts a foot wrong. They’re a wonderful combination. But they never flood a market – that’s where the coiner falls down. But she doesn’t seem to like you. What did you do to annoy her on Tuesday last?”

“I may have been rather blunt.”

Brevet nodded.

“Diplomacy is not among your failings. People dislike being shown that for you to touch them with a bargepole would go against the grain. And Mona has her sensitive moments. She was a lady once… Is there any last office I can do you?”

“None, thank you,” I said.

“Quite. I only asked, because though I fully expect to be the instrument of your translation, our Daniel is sometimes wayward in matters like this. I remember – Ah, here he comes.”

A moment later Gedge was followed by Punter into the room.

Gedge turned me over and looked at my wrists. Then once again, while Punter held my feet, he bound my ankles with wire.

He stood up and looked at me. Then he laughed a high-pitched laugh.

“‘Rose’ Noble had you, had he? Well, you’ll be seeing him soon and you can tell him from me that when I have a man, I have him for keeps. And if he doesn’t believe you – why, Mansel’ll back you up.”

Then the three withdrew and again I was left alone.

It was now past eleven o’clock and I hoped very hard indeed that they meant to retire. I had never had any doubt that Mansel would strike that night and would come by way of the quarry, as Gedge had said. And now if he came that way, he was almost certainly doomed. He would know, of course, that he was playing into their hands: but he would take any chance in the hope of saving my life. So now I had not only to save myself, but somehow to reach the quarry in time to stay him and the others from throwing their lives away.

Everything was depending on Mona Lelong. As I have already said, I simply declined to believe that she would not manage to reach me and free my hands. The trouble was – how soon could she come? Time was terribly precious, for Mansel might start his assault at any time now. Yet Mona Lelong could not come till the others had gone to bed. And would they all retire? Or would someone sit up to watch? I decided that no one would watch, for, from what Gedge had said, it was clear that the raising of the first curtain would sound some alarm. And when I was free – what then? Without a pistol I dared not engage the enemy. And even if I were armed, the odds against my survival were very high. And I had to survive somehow – five lives might well be hanging upon my own… There was simply nothing for it – unless The Stoat could get me out of the château, I should have to take to the water and hope against hope.

Of such were my reflections in that most desperate hour: but as the time went by, but Mona Lelong did not come, the hopes I was holding so fast seemed more and more forlorn and an agony of fear beset me that she would come too late.

And then at last, at midnight, the door of the storeroom was opened, and Mona Lelong slid in.

Two things I must make clear. The passage without was lighted all night long; and the rush of the sliding water swallowed all lesser noise. With the storeroom’s door ajar, one could, therefore, see to move; while, if one moved with care, the movement could never be heard.

She glided up to my side and fell on her knees: and then, before I could speak, she had lighted a little torch and was sponging my face.

“Say you understood,” she breathed.

“I knew you’d come.”

I heard her catch her breath: then she stooped and brushed my face with her lips.

“Listen, Mona. I’m terribly up against time. The pliers are on the table. I want you to cut the wire about my wrists.”

In a little less than a minute, my hands were free.

I took the pliers from her and freed my feet.

As we stood up together –

“D’you know a way out?” I whispered.

She clapped her hands to her face.

“I don’t, Richard. I’ve racked my brains all day. You’ll have to come back to my room. You see, by night the château–”

“Hopeless,” I said. “Mansel will strike any minute, and if I can’t stay his hand he’ll lose his life. And so will Bagot and the servants. They haven’t a chance.”

“But you
can’t
get out, Richard. By night–”

“Can you find me some rope?” said I. “Never mind what for.”

“Yes,” said the girl, looking round. “The rope’s over here.”

I followed her to a corner, and there, by the light of her torch, she showed me four or five coils of good, strong cord. As I picked one up –

“And now an iron bar,” I said.

A hand went up to her mouth.

“I don’t know where there’s a bar.”

“Dogs,” said I. “Firedogs. Is there a fireplace here?”

“Behind those cases. Be careful. There may or may not be dogs.”

There were – and across them, as I had expected, was lying a bar. I extracted it carefully – again by the light of her torch.

“Into the kitchen,” I said.

She opened her eyes at that, but she led me out of the storeroom without a word. As I closed the door behind us –

“And now you must go,” I breathed. “God bless and keep you always for what you’ve done. The pliers will lie for themselves – they shouldn’t have left them there.”

“I don’t do things by halves,” said Mona Lelong.

Not daring to argue in the passage, I followed her into the kitchen and closed the door.

“Mona, for God’s sake go. You can’t do any more.”

“I’m the best judge of that. If you don’t want to waste your time, I should put me wise.”

I hesitated. Then –

“So be it,” said I. I pointed to the hatch or opening which gave to the sounding stream. “I’m going to go down that drain.”

I heard her gasp. And then she had caught my arm.

“You can’t, you can’t,” she cried. “It’s a subterranean stream and you’d die a terrible death.”

“Listen, Mona,” I said. “Unless I’m jammed, I know that will let me out. Know. And now please give me your torch. I haven’t an instant to lose.”

Torch in hand, I surveyed the water. This was running in a channel that looked about three feet wide. I gave her the torch again and fastened the rope to the bar.

I had counted on the length of that bar. I had hoped that it would be longer than the opening was broad, so that, once it was in position and I had taken the strain, I could depend upon it as though it were fixed. But when I applied it to the opening, I found that the bar spanned this with less than an inch to spare.

I drew in my breath.

I dared not trust myself to a bar so placed; for if it moved half an inch – well, bar and rope would follow me down the stream.

I decided to prove the water – to see if the bar could be jammed between the sides of the channel in which the water ran. This would be more satisfactory, for so the rope would fall straight.

“I’m not going yet,” I said. “Please hold the bar and give it to me when I ask.”

She took it without a word.

And then I was through the opening, standing in water and holding on to the sill.

The stream was four feet deep, but it slid straight into a tunnel against the roof of which I could brace my back.

So I took my stand: then I put out my hand for the bar. Mona was ready and put it into my hand. I drew it through the aperture, still with the rope attached, and set about trying to jam it in the channel or bed of the stream.

This was no easy task.

I dared not bend down squarely, for had I done that and slipped, I must have been swept away: so I had to keep one hand on the edge of the tunnel’s roof and do my best with the other to jam the bar. And the water was opposing my efforts with all its might, as though it resented the trespass which I was seeking to do.

At first my heart sank down, for the channel was wider than the bar was long: then I found that, well under water, the channel’s sides drew closer, and after a frantic struggle, I lodged the bar.

I say ‘lodged’ because I mean ‘lodged.’ Without two hands I could not jam it. Yet, if I ventured to take my hand from the rock… All the time, the moments were flying.

I let go the rock and put both hands to the bar. With all my might I thrust this squarely downward. I sank it perhaps two inches. Then I took hold of the rope, set my back to the roof of the tunnel and took the strain… But the bar never moved.

I took a turn of the rope about my wrist. Then I stood to the opening and spoke to Mona Lelong.

“The rest of the rope,” I said. “Quick.”

She swung the coil on to the sill. As I made to sweep it into the water, she caught my hand.

“Richard, you’ll never do it. Even if you get down you’ll never get out alive. Think of–”

“I give you my word,” I said, “that I’ve more than an even chance. And it isn’t only my life: it’s Mansel’s and Bagot’s and–”

“And if you’re jammed.”

“I’m sure I shan’t be. The water’s flowing too fast. And now I must go, Mona dear, and you must get back. Could you possibly spare me your torch?”

And as I spoke the words, above the rush of the water… I heard the Baron’s voice.

No one could have failed to hear it. So, perhaps, maniacs cry.

“
Mona!
” he screeched. “
Traitress!
” The man was in the passage beyond the kitchen door. Then I think he must have entered the storeroom, for he let out a scream that must have torn his throat.

With both her arms on the sill, the girl was standing so still she might have been turned to stone. The torch being between us, I saw her face. One look at this was enough. She knew that her hour was come.

There was only one thing to be done.

“Hold fast to the torch,” I said.

I swept the rope into the water, took her under the arms and lifted her out of the kitchen and into the stream.

With my left arm about her waist –

“Wrap the torch in your skirt,” I said, “and put an arm round my neck.”

As she did these things, the light in the kitchen went up.

With the rope in my right hand, I gave myself to the water, and in an instant of time we were out of sight.

The tunnel was not very long – about twenty-five feet. Although I could not see, I knew from the sound of the water that we were out – and, what was more, in a cavern of some considerable size.

I took a turn on the rope and managed to find my feet. Then I spoke in Mona’s ear.

“Lift the torch clear of the water, and then lay hold of the rope with your other hand.” I felt her move.

“All right?”

“Yes.”

“Now let me take the torch, and put both hands on the rope.”

She did as I said.

The torch, which was still alight, showed me the end of a cavern which might have been mine: but, once again, its light was lost in the place. I could not see the cavern’s dimensions or how it ran, though such features as I could make out were not unlike those I had noted the morning before. But one thing was very clear – that we must stick to the water and not attempt to move by its side, for to traverse such ridges and shelves would have taken us far too long.

Now Mona could not proceed without assistance from me. The water was far too deep and the current too strong. Yet I could go no farther with only one hand on the rope.

How I got the girl on to my back, I shall never know: but somehow, between us, we did it: and then I began to go down, with both my hands on the rope and her arms about my neck.

It was a nightmare progress.

I had, of course, to move backwards, chancing what might be coming, although she tried to help me, by looking over her shoulder, torch in hand. Staggering, stumbling, sliding, I plunged down that sounding water, round sudden bends, beneath overhanging rocks and over miniature falls. All the time I was praying that this was indeed my stream: all the time I was cursing my folly, because I had taken only one coil of rope: all the time I was calling for light and looking wildly about me for any feature I knew.

I have fought with Death and I have fought against Time: but never as then have the two withstood me together with such malevolence. And my body alone could do battle: my mind had to take what punishment they chose to inflict. This was severe, indeed.