How long Hilary had been asleep he did not know, but he was aroused
suddenly by something touching his face, and he lay there wide awake on
the instant, wondering what it meant.
And now for the first time the hardship of his position came with
renewed force. He was accustomed to a rough life on board ship, where
in those days there were few of the luxuries of civilisation, but there
he had a tolerably comfortable bed. Here he had straw, and the absence
of a coverlet of any description made him terribly cold.
The cold chill did not last many seconds after his awaking, for he felt
a strange sensation of heat come over him; his hands grew moist, and in
a state of intense excitement he lay wondering what it was that had
touched his face.
He could not be sure, but certainly it felt like a cold, soft hand, and
he waited for a renewal of the touch, determined to grasp at it if it
came again.
He was as brave as most lads of his age, but as he lay there, startled
into a sudden wakefulness, it was impossible to help thinking of Adela's
words spoken that morning and his own light remarks, and for a time he
felt in a strange state of perturbation.
All was perfectly still, and it was so dark that he could not for some
time make out the shape of the window against the night sky; but inside
his prison there was a faint light, so faint that it did not make the
wall visible, and towards this he strained his eyes, wondering whence it
came.
"Why, what a coward I am!" he said to himself, as he made an effort to
master his childish fears. "Ghosts, indeed! What nonsense! I'm worse
than a child--afraid of being in the dark."
He lay listening with the straw rustling at his slightest movement, and
then, unable to bear the uncertainty longer, he started up on one elbow.
As he did so there was a quick noise to his right, and he turned sharply
in that direction.
"I might have known it," he muttered--"rats. I daresay they swarm in
this old place. How did that fellow get in? I saw no holes."
Unable to answer the question, he turned his attention to the faint
light that seemed to pervade the place, and, after a time, he made out
that it struck down through some crack or crevice in the ceiling.
As he tried to make out where, it seemed to die away, leaving the place
as black as ever; but now, in place of the depressing silence, he could
hear that something was going on. There was a dull noise somewhere
below him, making his heart beat fast with excitement, for it was an
endorsement of his ideas that there was a cellar or vault. Then, in the
distance, he fancied he could hear the rattle of chains, and the
impatient stamp of a horse, with once or twice, but very faintly heard,
a quick order or ejaculation.
"I wonder whether there are many rats here?" he thought, for he wanted
to get up and clamber to the window, and look out to see if he could
witness any of the proceedings of his captors.
It was an unpleasant thought that about the rats, for, as a matter of
course, he began directly afterwards to recall all the old stories about
people being attacked by rats, and half devoured by the fierce little
animals; and it was some time before he could shake off the horrible
idea that if he moved dozens of the little creatures might attack him.
Making an effort over himself to master his cowardly feelings, he sprang
up and stood listening; but there was not so much as a scuffle of the
tiny feet, and groping his way to the wall beneath the window, he
climbed up and looked out, but could see nothing, only hear voices from
the other side of the house.
Directly after, though, he heard some one apparently coming to his
prison; for there were the steps upon the boarded floor, then others
upon a stone passage, and a light shone beneath his door.
"They sha'n't find me up here," he thought; and he lowered himself down;
but, to his surprise, instead of whoever it was coming right to his
door, he seemed to go down some steps, with another following him. The
light disappeared, and then the footsteps ceased, and he could hear the
rumbling mutter of voices below his feet.
"I hope they are not getting up a gunpowder plot below," said Hilary to
himself, for his dread had given place to curiosity. "I'll be bound to
say that there's a regular store of good things down there waiting to be
turned into prize-money for my lads when I once get back on board.
Hallo! here they come again."
The ascending steps were heard plainly enough, and the light reappeared,
shining feebly beneath the door; and, going softly across, Hilary looked
through the great keyhole, and could see the ill-looking man Allstone
with a candle in one hand and a little keg that might have contained
gunpowder or spirit upon his shoulder.
"Here," he whispered to his companion, "lay hold while I lock up."
It was all in a moment. The keg was being passed from one to the other,
when, between them, they let it fall with a crash, knocking the candle
out of Allstone's hands.
Hilary saw the flash of the contents of the keg as the candle fell upon
the stones; then there was the noise of a dull explosion that rattled
the door; and as the prisoner started back from the door a stream of
blue fire began to run beneath it, and he heard one of the men yell out:
"There's that young officer in there, and he'll be burned to death!"