Storm Music (1934) (19 page)

I began to tremble; my knees felt suddenly loose; my cousin's words came leering into my mind, "I never liked blind-man's buff." ...

It was the remembrance of Helena that put to shame my fear: I had heard her whip Pharaoh—here, in this very room; whip him before his fellows; cut him across the face. And the whip she had used was my courage. "You fear him ... you fear his hand." For an instant I thought upon her and strangely enough remembered the way she had of pushing her hair from her temples, as though by that pretty gesture to banish care. Then I turned refreshed to my duty, which was to take Pharaoh's life.

At once I set out to find him, with my left hand stretched before me and my pistol all ready below.

Someone has said the best method of defence is attack. Be that as it may, I truly believe that my action saved my life, for Pharaoh passed me in the darkness and came upon Rush. I know this was so, for he fired upon the body, supposing it to be me, and the flame that leaped from his pistol gave me a mark to aim at, instead of lighting my face.

In a flash I had fired again— and had drawn his fire, for, before I could think, a bullet had flicked the sleeve of my pistol arm.

This showed me, once for all, that so far as snap shots were concerned, I stood no chance whatever against such a man. With such rapid and accurate fire I could not begin to compete, and, as I whipped to one side, I made up my mind that I must not fire again until I knew for certain that my bullet was going to kill. In a word, if I was to win, I must come to close quarters with Pharaoh, if not to grips.

I had now come back to the table, and, as I edged my way round it, I thought of the knee-hole below.

I think it will be admitted that in making your way to and fro in a room that is dark, your tendency is to skirt the furniture which you encounter, keeping in touch with its edge, because, I suppose, you like to be able to feel your way. After all, this is natural. Blind men move by the wall. If, then I entered the knee-hole and let Pharaoh move to and fro, sooner or later he would skirt the pedestal-table and, though I should not hear him, if I had put out my hands, I should feel the slack of his trousers as he went by.

An instant later I was crouching beneath the archway, with my pistol on the carpet before me and my empty hands outstretched upon either side.

I had not long to wait.

When I did not return his fire, I fancy the man was uncertain whether or no I was dead. He, therefore, sought the spot from which I had fired and, finding no body there, turned and came to the table exactly as I had done. And exactly, as I had done, he began to edge his way round it.

The slack of his trousers brushed my attentive hand.

In a flash I had him by the ankles and, ripping his feet from beneath him, had brought him down on his side. Then I snatched up my pistol, thrust it into his stomach and pressed the trigger— in vain.

The magazine was empty. Slovenly to the last. Rush had never troubled to replenish his clip.

And here my instinct served me there was no time to think.

Pharaoh had fallen to his right hand and so on his pistol arm. While this was taking his weight, he could not aim, and, though in a flash he had flung his weight to the left. In that instant my fingers had caught the wrist of his pistol hand. For a moment he fought for his freedom. Then he let himself fall on his back; but now my wits were working, and before his hand could reach his pocket, I had hold of his other wrist.

I had "scotch'd the snake, not killed it," as Shakespeare says. And I think no snake ever fought so hard for its life. It was all I could do to hold him though I was far stronger than he, for he writhed and flung and twisted, as though indeed he belonged to the serpent tribe. In vain he sought to kick me, for his legs were within the knee hole and he could not draw back his feet. And all my weight was upon him, and I am a heavy man.

And in that instant the room was flooded with light.

For a moment I thought that some one had entered the chamber. And then I guessed that Pharaoh had turned the switches on when first he came into the room, that the switch- board itself might report the repair of the damage which he had done.

So for the first time that night I saw my enemy's face.

I think he must have known that I was his assailant, but the sight of me seemed to send him out of his mind. He fought no more as a serpent, but like the madman he looked, his face convulsed with passion and his eyes starting out of his head. Again and again he lifted me, arching his back. He wrenched his arms to and fro. as though the limbs were not his. With his heels he thrashed the woodwork confining his feet, and he did his best to reach my face with his teeth. But my "healthy, aimless existence" stood me in stead. He only did himself violence, and both of us knew, I think, that now at last he was to be brought to book at the hand of a fool.

I often think that it was this bitter reflection that made him forget his cunning and robbed him of all control, for the game which he should have played was to offer me no resistance unless and until I attempted to change my grip. Had he played that game, I should have been hard put to it to have my way; but, as it was, he expended his strength, like a madman, upon the strait jacket in which he was now confined.

At last, to my relief, the tempest blew itself out, and he lay back, spent and panting, to take his rest; but before I could think of moving he had lifted his head once more and was staring into my eyes.

I looked back, grimly enough.

He did not struggle; he simply gazed upon me, as though he would brand my image upon his memory. There was foam on his lips, I remember, and the hate in his eyes burned red.

So for perhaps ten seconds. Then the fellow spat in my face.

So a madman made a madman.

If he resisted I know not, but I used him as a lay figure from that time on.

I dashed his hand on the massive plinth of the table, to break his wrist, and when his pistol had fallen I brought his hands together and got to my knees. And then I was clear of the table and had jerked him up to his feet.

I let his broken wrist go, whipped out his second pistol and pitched it across the room.

Then I seized his throat with both hands, turned him back to the table, bent him across its corner and broke his back on the oak.

SITTING on the bench by the fireplace, I wiped my face and my hands on Helena's black silk scarf. This had been wrung and creased, and I had no doubt that Pharaoh had used it to gag her, before he had carried her off.

Now that the business was over I found it hard to believe. Yet there was Rush dead and dreadful, still in his chair. There was Dewdrop's body, with its broken face to the wall; and there was Pharaoh, still hanging as I had left him, over the edge of the table to which I owed so much. What had seemed so hard had proved easy. A little cunning, a little patience, a little luck— and the three had played into my hands. For my battle with Pharaoh I had only my folly to thank. My cousin would have shot him before he had entered the room.

I looked at my watch.

The time was twenty minutes past twelve. Not an hour had gone by since Pharaoh had "talked" from the ramparts and Dewdrop had read his message to Rush and Bugle and me. And now they were all four dead, but I was alive.

The reflection brought me up to my feet.

Alive, if you please; but I was shut in a chamber from which I could see no way out.

For twenty minutes I sought that secret door, but I could not so much as determine which were the panels that backed it, so well was it hid. I shouted and beat upon the woodwork, using Helena's name— in vain— and when I had bruised my hands and made myself hoarse I went back to the bench I had left and sat down to consider my plight.

Helena was locked in the turret— my hand in my pocket fingered her master key; but the turret, no doubt, had embrasures, and she would be found and released so soon as she could make herself heard. She had, of course, heard the firing, but if the thieves were fighting what did that matter to her? Let Pharaoh revenge her escape upon Bugle and Rush: or seek to blast his way out of the secret room. (Here perhaps I should say that though Helena heard the firing, the sound was so muffled that she could not be sure what it was, while so thick were the walls of Yorick that nobody else in the castle heard it at all.)

Now when Helena's release was effected and Geoffrey and the warden were found, the three would take counsel together upon her report. The position would be considered—but not for long.

Four dangerous, desperate felons were trapped in a secret room the very existence of which was known and must be known to no servants at all. If, therefore, they were to be released, my cousin and Barley and Florin must perform this most perilous office entirely alone. And what would be the object of risking three valuable lives to open that secret door? To destroy four bloody-minded convicts— the men had to die— when the chamber, left undisturbed, would work this destruction in silence and without fuss. And then, a week later, a grave could be dug in the woods, and Florin and Barley could enter and carry the corpses away.

The thing was clear. To open the room would be madness. The council would surely decide that Pharaoh and his companions must be left to die where they were.

OF course, if Bugle's body were found . But dead bodies sank. I had a hazy idea that after six days they floated ... after six days ...

Somewhat dazedly I surveyed my surroundings.

Rush offended me. Besides, I wanted my belt.

I stepped to its side and unstrapped and unlashed the corpse: this subsided sideways, over the arm of its chair. I walked to the cut in the wall, regarded the steps for a moment, and slammed the panel that hid them into its place. The cellar would make me no exit: that was beyond all doubt.

For some absurd reason a verse of the Bible kept coming into my head. "We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out."

Its irrelevance angered me.

I had no desire to take anything out of the world. Nor, for that matter, had Pharaoh. If instead of world you read room— he had brought nothing into this room and now it was very certain that he would carry nothing out. Or Dewdrop, either. Or Rush. Not a single golden sovereign— not even their lives, although they had brought them in. It occurred to me that I, too, had brought my life into this room.

It is certain we can carry nothing out.

I stamped uneasiness down, and turned again to the walls. No windows, no doors. How did one get out of chambers that had neither windows nor doors?

It was then that I thought of the fireplace.

A grate must have a chimney; and if the chimney was wide . . .

The chimney was wide—and barred by a massive grille.

With the aid of Dewdrop's torch I examined the heavy lattice. This was corrupted by rust. If I had a crowbar ...

My eye fell upon the cross-bar which was resting upon the dogs— the bar to fend logs from falling on to the slab .

This bar was of polished steel, and though I soon found that I could not burst the lattice, after two minutes I felt the whole grille move. At once I turned my attention to the clamps which held it in place, and ten minutes later I had torn two out of the sockets in which they had stood so long. Then I laid hold of the grille, and under the weight of my body the side no longer supported slowly gave way.

I have said that the chimney was wide; and so it was. If I could find a foothold I could climb it for several feet. My fear was that it would be narrow before I had gone very far.

I need not have feared for my foothold. A series of slots had been made for the feet of a sweep. And though as I mounted the flue it certainly diminished in size. I was able to move, not, indeed, with freedom, but without any actual danger of being wedged.

It was not a pleasant experience, for soot and filth kept falling into my eyes and choking my nose and mouth with each breath that I drew, and, after some twenty feet, as luck would have it, I let fall Dewdrop's torch.

With a venial flurry of oaths I decided to let this lie. At the moment it could not serve me—I could hardly go wrong.

So I went on my way blindly, cursing the soot and the cobwebs and hoping as hard as I could that the flue was not peculiar to the room I had left.

I must have climbed forty feet when my hand encountered a ridge and I felt a current of air. And then I knew I was saved, for the ridge and the draught were declaring the mouth of a second flue.

I had to climb above it before I could leave the main shaft. Then I put my feet over the ridge and, since I could find no foothold, began to let myself down.

With my hands on the ridge I sought foothold—and sought it in vain. The flue was becoming enormous: I could scarcely straddle its width. Unless I could find some ledge.

And then I knew that I had come to a fireplace.

An instant later my feet were touching the wood that was laid on the dogs.

I could, of course, see nothing. The room was dark. But as I crawled out of that fireplace I knew where I was.

I had come to Helena's bedroom.

I took two paces forward and bore to the left.

An instant later I was touching her standard lamp.

The room was little disordered.

A wardrobe door was open, and three or four dresses were hanging out of its mouth. I could see that the bed had been lain on, and a little gilt chair had fallen on to its side.

As my eyes travelled round, I saw myself in the pier-glass.

As may be imagined, my state beggared all description, and I made at once for the bathroom to do what I could. For me to move was to damage, but at least the tiles in the bathroom would take no hurt.

Roughly I washed the filth from my head and my hands, but though I did what I could to wipe the soot from my shoes, I very soon saw that until I could change my clothing I should not be fit to move in a furnished room. And what clothes I had were at Plumage.

At once to get to the farm became my burning desire.

Before I did so I must set Helena free. That was simple enough. I had her master key, and there was her private stair to bring me down to the hall. And yet I dreaded the duty. I did not want to see her—at least not now. I dreaded the explanations which I should be forced to give. I did not want her to know that I had been there in that room: that I had seen Pharaoh break her, that I had heard her purchase my safety for ten thousand pounds a year.

Almost I decided to go and seek some servant and commit to him the honour of setting his mistress free. But that would have seemed an insult which would have been hard to explain.

As I stepped to the curtain I heard the whine of a dog and then the scratch of claws on the door that led to the ramparts— not that I was proposing to use. In a moment I had it open, and there to my joy was Sabre, still, of course, very wet, but safe and sound.

I afterwards learned that, perceiving the bustle above him, the dog had declared, by barking, that he was down in the moat. His rescue effected, he had, as Pharaoh had conjectured, at once been impressed and taken into the meadows and encouraged to scour the woods: but, knowing better than his betters, he had presently given them the slip and had made his way back to the castle and up to his mistress' door.

The great dog seemed pleased to see me, but none too pleased to see that I was alone. At once his nose fell to the floor and he moved to the bed. I watched him curiously. At the bed he paused, and I heard him let out a growl. Then he found his way to the wardrobe ... As he stood with his nose to its sill, I saw the hair rise upon his chine.

I picked up a box of matches and turned to the private door.

"Come and find her, Sabre," I said. "I know where she is."

The Alsatian started and stared. Then he bounded towards me, put his great paws on my shoulders, and licked my face.

One minute later we stood in the little hall.

With the master key in my hand I turned to the turret door. For a moment I hesitated. Then I took a deep breath, fitted the key to the lock, and pushed open the oak.

"Helena," I said.

She made no answer, and I took the box from my pocket to strike a match. Here the door returned upon me, and in some impatience I pushed it roughly away. As I struck the match, the door swung back to the wall and stayed where it was.

Helena was not to be seen. Neither, for that matter, was Sabre. He had gone to join his mistress at the head of the turret stair.

I was wondering whether to follow or whether to wait where I was, when I suddenly saw that my duty to the lady was done.

The appearance of Sabre would show her that she was released. The way to her bedroom was open, and she had no need of escort, because the terror was laid.

With trembling fingers I whipped the key from the lock of the turret door. Then I opened the door which gave to the winding staircase, passed through and locked it behind me with all dispatch. Five minutes later I crossed the moat by the footbridge and entered the tunnel which would bring me into the woods

I have till now said little of how I had been affected by Helena's words and demeanour when she was in Pharaoh's power. Until I was clear of the castle I had no time to consider what she had said and done; but the blazing honour she had shown me had made, as it were, a background to every thought I had had.

As I walked to Plumage I remembered those terrible moments— how in her pride she had flung my puny efforts in Pharaoh's face and how in her fear and trembling she had sought to buy my safety by committing a breach of trust. No queen could have done more for the king she loved. And Helena had done this for me—who had broken off our engagement and told her I did not love her six hours before.

I walked to Plumage, found the farm silent but open and the men of the house abroad. No one saw me enter, find a change of clothing, and take my leave. I made my way to the foot-bridge that spanned the stream, and when I had put off my corruption I hid my foul clothes in the bushes and set out for Annabel.

As I went, the dawn came up ...

All the way three scenes continually presented themselves not separately and in order, but confounded and intermingled beyond belief. Helena commanded them all. The first was laid in her bedroom, lit by a flickering fire; the second lay in a valley, where the cool of the day had come in and the air was sweetness itself: and the third was a cold, white circle of merciless light. Yet, as I say, I could not keep them apart. While I thought of her words in the valley, I saw her broken and trembling at Pharaoh's threat: and when I saw the scene in her bedroom, the words that she spoke to Pharaoh kept thrusting into my mind. But at last, out of all this welter, I came to four conclusions— and they were these:

That her "love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women," a thing too rare to be committed to pen and ink: that my severe reception of her deceit was inspired by a just resentment at being addressed as a lover, but used as a child: that for me no other woman would ever so much as exist: that I was stopped from seeking to repair what had happened, because she had told me plainly that after what I had said she never could be my wife.

I have set down these things precisely as though they were counting-house matters instead of the selfsame stuff as that from which poets have wrung everlasting rhymes. But that is because, since all is wheat to me, I cannot sift the grain from the chaff. Or that day and the days that followed I think my heart found itself, working out its own salvation by studying the scenes and conclusions which I have set forth, and scourging itself with the phrases of that gentle indictment which a girl had preferred against me in a valley that knew no sun.

Although I had once postponed and had come to regard with increasing apprehension the opening of Helena's eyes— to the truth, of course, that it was

I and not Bugle that had stood in the secret chamber and had listened to all she said—it had never occurred to me that, if only I held my tongue, neither she nor anyone else need ever suspect that I had entered the castle that Friday night. Yet before my cousin had spoken a dozen words I saw that if I was careful, my secret would keep itself.

He found me finishing breakfast in his room at The Reaping Hook.

"Well, you have missed something," he said. "Let that be your punishment for deceiving three simple souls. Not that I blame you— this time. My lady had no right to treat you like that. I told her as much in the coupe. But she wouldn't listen to me. But that's by the way. You've missed— in a way we've all of us missed the most astounding show that ever was seen. Lady Helena saw a good bit— more than enough, I'm afraid." He threw himself into a chair. "Upon my soul, I don't know where to begin."