The Women of Nell Gwynne's (11 page)

"Let's not go running to Pilkins yet, then," said Lady Beatrice. "What became of the rest of the Dessert?"

"That's a good question," said Dora. "Pantry?"

They left the silent kitchen and, following a trail of cake crumbs and blobs of creme anglaise, located the remaining Dessert in the pantry, as expected. Thoroughly ruined now, it lay spilt sideways on the flagstones, its grain carrier leaning against the wall.

"Once more, damn and blast," said Dora. "Where's the marvelous flying thing? The box or plank or whatever it was Pilkins carried in?"

"Not here, at any rate," said Lady Beatrice.

"You don't suppose the missus took it?"

"Might have, but—" Lady Beatrice began, as a prolonged bumping crash came from above. They looked at each other and ran upstairs, Lady Beatrice lifting her skirts to hurry. Dora, being nimbler in her present state of undress, arrived in the great hall first. Lady Beatrice heard her exclaim a fairly shocking oath, and upon joining her discovered why; for Arthur Fitzhugh Rawdon, Lord Basmond, lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the great staircase.

The two ladies stood there considering his corpse for a long moment.

"Frightfully convenient accident," said Lady Beatrice at last.

"I think it will look better if you do the screaming," said Dora, with a gesture indicating her nudity.

"Very well," said Lady Beatrice. Dora retreated to the kitchen. Lady Beatrice cleared her throat and, drawing a deep breath, uttered the piercing shriek of a terrified female.

M
RS. CORVEY PAUSED only to switch on the night-vision feature of her optics before advancing down the tunnel. Instantly she beheld the tunnel walls and floor, stretching ahead into a green obscurity. She had expected the same neat brickwork that distinguished the laboratory building, but the tunnel appeared to be of some antiquity: haphazardly mortared with flints, here and there buttressed with timbers, and penetrated with roots throughout, threadlike white ones or gnarled and black subterranean limbs.

As she proceeded along the tunnel's length, Mrs. Corvey noted in several places the print of shoes. Most were small, not much bigger than her own, but twice she saw a much larger track, a man's certainly. Moreover she perceived strange and shifting currents of air in the tunnel. About a hundred yards in she spotted what must be their source, for a second tunnel opened where some of the flint and mortar had fallen in, creating a narrow gap in the wall.

Mrs. Corvey studied the tunnel floor in front of the gap. Someone had gone through in the recent past, to judge from the way the earth was disturbed. She turned and considered the main course of the tunnel, which ended a few yards ahead where a ladder ascended, doubtless to the tower above. Yielding to her intuition, however, she turned back and slipped through the gap into the second tunnel.

Here the walls seemed of greater antiquity still, indeed, scarcely as though shaped by human labors at all; rather burrowed by some great animal. There was an earthy damp smell and, distantly echoing, the sound of trickling water. Mrs. Corvey peered into the depths and spotted something scarlet ahead in the green gloom, an irregular mass against one wall.

She lifted her cane to her shoulder and went forward cautiously, five feet, ten feet, and then there was a sudden burst of hectic illumination and a blare of—sound? No, not sound; Mrs. Corvey was at a loss to say what sensation it was that affected her nerves so painfully. She swayed for a moment before regaining her balance. Two or three deep breaths restored her composure before she heard a groan in the darkness ahead. And then:

"You know," said a male voice, "If I'm to die here I'd much rather be shot. All this blinding me and chaining me to walls and so forth is becoming tedious."

THIRTEEN:

In which Mr. Ludbridge tells a Curious Story

T
HE SCARLET MASS had shifted, and resolved itself now into the shape of a man, slumped against the wall of the tunnel with one arm flung up awkwardly. As she neared him, Mrs. Corvey saw that he was in fact pinioned in place by a manacle whose chain had been passed about one of the ancient roots.

"Mr. Ludbridge?" she inquired.

His head came up sharply and he turned his face in her direction.

"Is that a lady?"

"I am, sir. William Reginald Ludbridge?"

"Might be," he said. She was within a few paces of him now and, opening a compartment in her cane, drew forth a lucifer and struck it for his benefit. The circle of dancing light so produced proved to her satisfaction that the prisoner was indeed the missing man Ludbridge. "Who's that?"

"I am Elizabeth Corvey, Mr. Ludbridge. From Nell Gwynne's."

"Are you? What becomes of illusions?"

"We dispel them," she replied, relieved to remember the countersign, for she was seldom required to give it.

"And we are everywhere. If you're wondering why your match isn't producing any light, it's because of that damned— excuse me—that device you tripped just now. It'll be at least an hour before we can see anything again."

"In fact, I can see now, Mr. Ludbridge." She blew out the tiny flame.

"I beg your pardon? Oh!
Mrs.
Corvey. You're the lady with the...do forgive me, madam, but I hardly expected the GSS to send the ladies' auxiliary to my aid. So the flash hasn't affected your, er, eyes?"

"It does not appear to have, sir."

"That's something, anyway. Er...I trust you weren't sent alone?"

"I was not, sir. Some of my girls are upstairs, I suppose you'd say, entertaining Lord Basmond and his guests."

"Ha! Ingenious. I don't suppose you happen to have a hacksaw with you, Mrs. Corvey?"

"No, sir, but let me try what I might do with a bullet." Mrs. Corvey set the end of her cane against the root where the manacle's chain passed over it, and pressed the triggering mechanism. With a
bang
the chain parted, and white flakes of root drifted down like snow. Ludbridge's arm fell, a dead weight.

"I am much obliged to you," said Ludbridge, gasping as he attempted to massage life back into the limb. "What have you found out?"

"We know about the levitation device."

"Good, but that isn't all. Not by a long way. There's this thing in the tunnel that makes such an effective burglar-catcher, and I suspect there's more still."

"What precisely is it, Mr. Ludbridge?"

"Damned if I know, beg your pardon. You saw the laboratory, did you?"

"Indeed, Mr. Ludbridge, I entered that way."

"So did I. Crawled through and had a good look round. Took notes and made sketches, which I still have here somewhere..." Ludbridge felt about inside his coat. "Yes, to be sure. Had started up the other tunnel when I heard the trap opening above and someone starting down the ladder. Put out my light in a hurry and ducked into what I'd assumed was an alcove in the wall, hoping to avoid notice. Bloody thing crumbled backward under my weight and I fell in here.

"I heard quick footsteps hurry past, in the main tunnel without. When I felt safe I lit my candle again and looked around me. This place is only the entrance to a great network of tunnels, you know, quite a warren; it's a wonder Basmond Hall hasn't sunk into the hill. I could hear water and felt the rush of air, so I thought I'd explore and see if I could find myself a discreet exit.

"That was two weeks ago, I think. I never found an exit, though I did find a great deal else, some of it very queer indeed. There's a spring-fed subterranean lake, ma'am, and what looks to be some of the ancestral tombs of the Rawdons— at least, I hope that's what they are. Midden heaps full of rather strange things. Someone lived in this place long before the Rawdons came with William the Conqueror, I can tell you that! I'm ashamed to admit I became lost more than once. If not for the spring and my field rations I'd have died down there.

"Having found my way back up at last, I was proceeding in triumph down this passageway when I ran slap into the—the whatever-it-is that makes such a flash-bang. I was knocked unconscious the first time. When I woke I discovered I'd been chained up as you found me. That was...yesterday? Not very clear on the passage of time, I'm afraid."

"Clearly Lord Basmond had noticed someone was trespassing," said Mrs. Corvey.

"Too right. Haven't seen him, though. He hasn't even come down to gloat, which honestly I'd have welcomed; always the chance I could persuade him to join the GSS, after all. Just as well it was you, perhaps."

"And what are we to do now, Mr. Ludbridge?"

"What indeed? I am entirely at your disposal, ma'am."

Mrs. Corvey turned and looked intently at the floor of the tunnel. She saw, now, the braided wire laid across their path, and the metal box to which it was anchored.

"I think we had better escape, Mr. Ludbridge."