PUT TO THE TORTURE
I awoke with a feeling of intense cold, the fire was out, and I was
lying outside the bed without covering.
The day had fully broken, and there was even an attempt on the part of
the sun to pierce the heavy mists of a November morning. I looked
around out of the windows, and saw the hills topped with cloud in every
direction.
Drawing the rough blankets over me, I lay and thought. My first
yearning was for something to eat; I had tasted nothing since lunch the
previous day; I was fearfully hungry.
I had lain thus perhaps half an hour between sleeping and waking, when
a key was put in the door and it opened, admitting a big, dark man with
a long, black beard; he bore in his hands a small table which he placed
in the middle of the room.
"Now," I said to myself, "this means breakfast."
I was mistaken.
He brought in next a square box, not unlike the case of a sewing
machine, and placed it on the table.
"What can this be?" I muttered as I watched him closely.
In a few minutes footsteps were heard on the stairs, and another man
joined him. A great strong fellow with a fair moustache. The two of
them wheeled a large chair with glass arms to it, which I had not
noticed before, from one corner of the room, and placed it on one side
of the table.
The preparations now had all the appearance of the commencement of some
performance; it only needed the principal actor to appear.
He was not long in coming.
Meanwhile, I wondered why the chair had glass arms to it.
I noticed that the two men, who now stood idly looking out of the
windows, did not wear uniforms. They were dressed in ordinary
rough-looking clothes of foreign cut; it struck me as very strange. I
asked them who they were.
"Are you the warders of the prison?" I said.
"Hein!" the dark one inquired.
"Are you the warders of the prison?" I repeated.
"Find out, _verdammt Englander_," the man replied.
Then I felt certain I was in no English prison. Where was I?
The question was soon answered, the door once more opened and
_Saumarez_ entered. I sat up on the bed and fairly gasped; the whole
matter was perfectly unintelligible to me. After the first thrill of
astonishment my glance went to his eyes.
They were complete; he had another glass one in the socket, and it
exactly matched the real one.
He came towards me with a little bow, and a smile on his red
countenance.
"Good morning, Mr. Anstruther," he began, "we seem to be always
meeting."
I could not restrain my feelings.
"That is my misfortune," I answered.
He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps so," he answered casually, "that remains to be seen."
He said some words in German to the two men, which I imperfectly
understood, but it seemed to be an order to lift me off the bed, for
they immediately did it.
Then one of them unlocked my chain, and the two of them carried me to
the chair, and sat me in it.
I now realised that I was in a desperate condition.
"I insist on knowing," I cried to Saumarez, "why I was brought here.
It is very evident that I have been tricked."
Saumarez laughed--a low laugh of enjoyment.
"You certainly came here under a false impression," he sniggered; "as
for the reason of your coming, you will soon know it. Now, to begin
with, where is the key of the safe at 190 Monmouth Street. You have
been thoroughly searched and we cannot find it.
"You are not likely to," I answered. "It is in a place where you
cannot get at it."
"Indeed!" replied Saumarez. "What place is that?"
"I shall not tell you."
"We shall see," he remarked laconically.
As he spoke, he motioned to the two men to do something with the box on
the table.
As they moved towards it, I heard the double report of a sporting gun
not far off. Evidently some one was out shooting.
The men went to the table, and, taking off the square lid of the box,
disclosed a large galvanic battery!
My blood began to run cold as an awful idea formed itself in my mind.
"Secure him in the chair!" Saumarez said sharply in German.
Before the men could reach me, I darted out of the chair towards the
door, but they were too quick for me and caught me before I reached it.
They carried me back struggling to the chair, and one held me down in
it while the other passed thick straps round me, holding me fast in it,
hand and foot. I found, when they had done with me, that my two hands
were strapped firmly to the glass arms of the chair.
Lying back in the chair I noticed high up in the roof an old cobwebbed
window, the top of which was standing open for purposes of ventilation.
It looked as if it had not been interfered with for years.
In the position I was in, I could not very well see what was going on
in the room, but the next thing I experienced was feeling my wrists
being encircled apparently with wire. I gave one convulsive struggle
to get free, but it was useless I knew well now what they were going
to do.
They were going to torture me by giving me galvanic shocks, and passing
strong currents through my body.
I had heard of the torture being applied in Russia to political
prisoners.
I had, when a boy, patronised those machines which professed to try
one's "nerve." I had held the two handles and watched the proprietor
draw out the rod from the coil to increase the strength of the current.
I knew how unbearable _that_ feeling could become even with a _weak_
battery. What would it be with this _strong_ one?
Saumarez' voice broke in upon me.
"Where is the key of the safe?"
I was enraged at the sound of his voice.
"You shall never know, you vile devil!" I cried.
"Give it to him," he exclaimed sharply to the two men in German. As he
spoke I heard the sharp report of two sporting guns, one charged with
black powder, one, from its quick sharp crack, with smokeless, _quite
near_. There were two sportsmen.
Then--oh my God!--began that awful torture of a strong current of
electricity passing up my arms.
I threw back my head and cried with all my strength, directing my voice
to the open window far above me in the roof of the tower--
"Help! Murder! Help!"
And immediately, to my great joy, I heard an answering shout!
"_Donner und blitzen_!" cried Saumarez, "he has attracted their
attention! Stop his mouth!"
Immediately I felt a handkerchief being rammed into my mouth, but from
far below came the sound of hard knocking on the door of the tower, and
men's voices shouting.
Saumarez rapped out a fearful oath, and gave an order to the men.
"You must carry him down below and drop him through the trap door into
the vaults," he cried. "You will have plenty of time to do it if you
are quick. Unbind him, sharp now!"
The two men commenced to do as he told them and very soon had the
straps off me, then they carried me between them towards the door after
firmly securing the gag in my mouth.
They had got about half-way down the spiral staircase with me, Saumarez
following behind, and I was in an agony of mind that they would succeed
in reaching the vaults with me, when I heard the door burst in below,
and a cheer from several voices, followed by rapid footsteps on the
steps.
"It's no good," cried Saumarez with another oath, "drop him and follow
me up to the roof."
They did drop me very roughly on the stone stairs, but before they went
I heard one of the men cry out--
"Don't kill him in cold blood!"
Then there came the click of a pistol lock followed by a deafening
report, and a bullet struck the step I was lying on about an inch from
my temple. There was a scuffling of feet on the stairs above, mingled
with words of remonstrance in German; the two men were hurrying
Saumarez away.
The report and the impact of the bullet had half stunned me, but I sat
up, and my hands being free, tore the gag out of my mouth. At the same
time, rapid footsteps came up the stairs, and, in a few moments, I
found a very familiar face, with an absolutely astounded expression on
it looking down into mine.
"In Heaven's name!" a well-known voice cried, "what are you doing here,
Bill?"
It was my cousin, Lord St. Nivel, a subaltern in the Coldstream Guards!