Cost Price (26 page)

So we fought this desperate battle, both very badly placed; for if he won, we should, both of us, die together a very unpleasant death; but if I won, I should not have the strength left to climb the rope and so should lose my life a few moments later than he.

And then he ended the matter by sinking his teeth in my leg.

I can only suppose that this was a dying gesture – the impulse of the jackal to mutilate the being he cannot kill. Be that as it may, it enraged me as nothing else he had done, and since I had no hope left, I determined to send him to hell before the torrent below us should rob me of my clear right.

I took my right hand from the rope and felt for and found his throat. And then I tore him off me and shook him with all my might. Then I dragged his face up to mine and looked into his eyes, to meet the bright stare of horror, with which such beings greet death. So for one last moment. Then my left hand gave in, and, thrusting Orris before me, I fell down into the race.

In that instant he must have died, for the force of the water slammed us against a boulder as though we were lay-figures or baulks of wood. But though my breath was taken, I was not hurt, for Orris’ body was my buffer and took the shock. Then the water swept me sideways to jam me in the jaws of a chasm between two rocks: but, though I was bruised and shaken, my head was above the flood. Till then I had not thought to make any effort at all to save my life: I had never dreamed I could live in such water as that: but now, although I was in a straitjacket, I was not dead. I could neither see nor hear, and the movement and the bellow about me bade fair to disorder my wits. I was fast in a welter of tumult, such as I never conceived, that overwhelmed mind and body – a blinding, deafening volume of merciless force that was holding my frame in a vice and was viciously lashing my face, which was looking upstream. But it was not injuring me, and, so far as I could judge, I was still unhurt. Still, if I was to go on living, I knew I must leave the water as quickly as ever I could, for, for one thing, the turmoil and uproar would very soon steal my brain and, for another, the water was very cold; and once my limbs were numbed, I could never emerge alive.

And then I remembered the rope…

(This shows, I think, how dazed and shaken I was, for I had entirely forgotten the obvious and only thing which could at all avail me to save my life.)

The question was how to regain it. And then I remembered the line of which I had taken two turns about my wrist. I recalled that this had been taut, when I was still in mid-air; it was just possible, therefore, that it was still in place.

Such was the pressure of the water, it took me all I knew to bring my right hand over to meet my left, when at once this encountered the line, still fast to my wrist.

A few moments later, I had the rope in my hands.

This I drew gradually tight, hauling it in against the will of the torrent, which seemed to be doing its best to tear it away. Then I pulled myself up a little out of the pounding flood, till my neck was clear of the water and so I could turn my head. I could still see next to nothing, because of the spray, but I did make out that the rock on my right, that is to say, towards the Italian side, was higher than that on my left. If, then, I could get below it, I might find a little shelter – if you can give it that name; for the rock, being high, would receive the full force of the water, but, I, being under its lee, should only receive the inrush from either side.

I had no means of knowing whether the length of the rope would allow me to make this move: but I knew that, if I stayed where I was, I must surely die, and since, as I saw it, there was no better move which I could endeavour to make, I hauled myself slowly forward, trying to bear to the right.

It was the hardest labour, and more than once I very near threw in my hand, for I was breasting a savage, relentless force, to which flesh and blood were playthings, which frowned upon obstruction, which seemed determined to tear the rope from my grasp; for the thrash of the rope’s end behind me was unbelievable.

The critical moment would come, when I was free of the chasm in the jaws of which I had stuck, for then the race would sweep my legs from beneath me and do its very utmost to carry me off. Indeed, I had small hope of reaching my rock, for only the current itself could carry me there.

As I had foreseen, when I pulled myself clear of the cleft, my legs were swept from beneath me before I could think, but thrusting out my left leg, I encountered an edge of rock, and that enabled me to bear to the right. Paying out a little rope, I found myself lying across the jaws of the chasm in which I had lately been held, with my shoulders against the rock I was trying to reach: but the pressure upon my stomach was painfully high and I knew I must move or perish before many moments had passed. In desperation, I took my right hand from the rope, and sought for some handhold by which I could drag myself on. This I found almost at once, for my fingers encountered a crevice which seemed to be full of slime. I instantly dragged myself forward, taking, as I did so, a fearful punishment; for the water was actually breaking about my head and, if my left hand had slipped, my skull would at once have been fractured against the rock. And then I was clear of the chasm and was lying against my rock, with my right foot braced against something – I know not what, and, to my great relief, with both hands again on the rope.

I pulled myself up a little and tried to take stock: for my strength was nearly gone, and I knew if I made one mistake, it would be my last. And then I saw that the sloping top of my rock was hardly awash. Perhaps two inches of water were flowing over its head, which meant I could stand upon it, provided I had my rope.

Once again I took my right hand away from the rope and, throwing up my right arm, found the edge of the rock with my armpit and strove to heave myself up; but the gesture had cost me the little foothold I had and the water seized my legs and pinned and drove them against the side of the rock. Since this had been worn away, I seemed to be in a fair way to be broken in two, for my body was being bent sideways into a bow, but I had enough sense to pay out a little rope, and a moment later had both my arms on the rock. So some of the strain was gone, and, though my body was still bent into a bow, at least I was not being tortured, for now my legs were directly beneath my arms. But my back was now being pounded as never before. It seemed as though tons of water were falling upon my spine – and not continuously, but with shock upon shock, for that is the way of a torrent, if it is heavy enough, as any man who has watched one will readily testify.

I think it goes without saying that only a man of iron could endure for long such terrible punishment, and once again in my life I proved the truth of the adage that out of the eater will sometimes come forth meat. Driven to desperation, I made such an effort as I never made before. With both my hands on the rope, I bent my elbows and hoisted my body up: then somehow I bent my knees, and a moment later I was swept on to the rock.

And there I lay, all asprawl, with shallow water about me, flowing as fast as it could, but with a force that was insignificant. Still, when I dropped my head, it ran into my mouth; so I heaved on my faithful rope until I was sitting up with my back to the stream. And then, at last, I relaxed, with the rope lying over my shoulder tight in my hands, drawing deep, sobbing breaths, as a man that has run himself out.

Although this escape from death has taken some time to tell, I very much doubt if more than two minutes went by between the end of Orris and my coming out of the storm. At the time, it seemed longer than that…it seemed a century. But that is always the way, when you walk with Death.

How long I sat upon that rock, I have no idea; but I was so much exhausted that I was half way to stupor, when something that was not water struck me upon my left cheek.

At once I roused myself and looked to the left; and there, ten paces away, was standing Colette. I could see the white of her shirt and after a little I made out the white of her face.

This brought me back to my senses. I might be out of the pit, but I was not out of the wood. And I had to get out of the wood…and back to Jade.

To be perfectly frank, I had forgotten Colette and the gems and everything. But when a man fights for his life, he can think about little else, and in this particular conflict I had been matched against no ordinary foe.

I lifted an arm, in the hope that she would see it. Then I turned to the business of reaching the bank.

I will not set down in detail how I achieved this end, for it cannot be of much interest and it would take too long. Enough that it was not easy, that, being very tired, right at the last, I stumbled and must have lost my race, had not Colette had the wit to see the help I needed and to thrust it into my hands.

I was only four feet from the bank and I still had my rope. Had this been attached to the bank, and not to the tree, by hauling upon it I could have pulled myself in: but when I hauled upon it, I pulled myself upstream and away from the bank. In an effort to counter this trend, I took a false step, and I had to throw out my right hand to save myself from falling against a rock. And then I was off my balance and could not get my right hand back to the rope. And there I hung, with the water, now only waist deep, swirling and gobbling about me and putting such a drag on the half of my body it had that the muscles of my left arm were cracking beneath the strain.

And then twigs brushed my face…

Colette had bent down a sapling and guided it into my arms.

I clutched it with my right hand…

Its trunk was slender enough, but its roots were firm, and they and my rope, between them, held me safe. So for perhaps two minutes. Then another sapling came down, and on that was lying the cord with which I had bound the kit-bag upon Colette’s back. This she had doubled twice over, and when I pulled upon it, I knew it was fast to some tree.

So I came out of the water and on to dry land.

Now whether or no I fainted, I cannot say; but the next thing that I remember is that I was stripped to the waist and Colette was kneeling across me, chafing my chest and my sides.

I had not the strength to sit up, but I cried her name.

She lowered her face to mine.

“Better, my darling?”

“The gems,” I said. “Where are they?”

“The cursed things,” said Colette, “are lying beside your head.”

I began to laugh, and Colette returned to her labour, jerking out speech as she worked.

“Are you surprised that I hate them? They almost cost you your life. What are they all beside one hair of your head? You risk your life ten times over to get them as far as this: and then, when your strength has failed, you give them to me to carry – and let your life go. Because He loves you, the good God gave it back. It is either that, or you are a demi-god; for Hercules himself could hardly have fought that water and won his match. And if he had, he would have done thirteen labours, instead of twelve.”

Here I begged her to stop her work on my chest and ribs: for her indignation was venting itself on my skin, and, indeed, I was very much better and almost fit to proceed.

As I sat up—

“But for Colette,” I said, “neither I nor the gems would be here. I do not think that we should have got so far. But we should have got no further – and that’s God’s truth. And now, my beauty, I think that we should get on. We are still in the danger zone, and we do not want to be taken upon the last lap.”

Colette was wringing the water out of my shirt.

“You cannot wear this, Adam.”

I took it out of her hand.

“It will soon get dry,” I said. “And I would sooner wear it than carry it on my back.”

I shall never know how we covered those last few miles, for I was half dead and Colette could hardly stand up. With my arm about her shoulders, I shambled along somehow, the kit-bag bound to my back. Now and again we stopped for five minutes or so, but only where I could lean against a rock or a tree: for I dared not sit down, for fear that, if I did, I should be unable to rise.

We were, of course, a long way behind our time, and the sun was up before we had left the valleys and reached the region no frontier-guards patrol. But, perhaps because it was Sunday, we were not stopped or fired on, although I think that a smuggler would have had his heart in his mouth.

It was very near half past six when I saw three figures ahead.

“It’s Jasper and Bell,” shrieked Colette. “And another I do not know.”

“Try Andrew Palin,” I croaked – and there my legs gave way, and I fell down on the ground.

Colette was down on her knees.

“Adam, Adam, my darling.”

“It’s quite all right, my beauty. It’s when you see help is at hand that your muscles give way.” I threw a glance over my shoulder. “Kiss me quickly, great heart, for they wouldn’t understand.”

Colette threw her arms about me and held me tight. Then she bent her head and kissed me upon the lips.

“Light of my eyes,” I murmured…

When the three came over the ridge, I was asleep in her arms.

Bell was kneeling beside me, shaking my arm.

“Miss Colette says you’re all right, sir, but I’ve never seen you so pale.”

“I’m quite all right, Bell. But I’m devilish tired.”

Palin was kneeling upon the opposite side.

“You don’t look too good, Chandos. You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

I raised myself on an elbow.

“Look here,” I said, laughing; “this isn’t holy ground. And I’m not going to die just yet. I’ll say I’m tired. And, like the sainted Paul, I have fought with beasts.”

“I do hope you did murder,” said Palin. “Just for the look of the thing. It makes it so much more romantic.”

“I did Friar in,” I said, laughing. “But that was an execution – he wasn’t fair to Goat.”

“Most unfair,” said Palin. “In fact, he was more than unfair. He was almost rude. And you were rude back. What a very beautiful thought!”

“That’ll do,” said I. “You were asking after my health. Let me say, once for all, that I am organically sound. But see to Colette, will you? But for her, I shouldn’t be here. And that’s God’s truth. But she can hardly stand up, and she doesn’t weigh very much. D’you think you could carry her, Palin? I’d do it, if I was able – and she deserves the best.”