The Lord Purceville leaned back heavily against the cold stone wall,
eyes wide with a fear that was altogether new to him. His own
breathing as they reached the upper stories had become tight and
irregular; and now, though nearly twenty minutes had elapsed, his
chest had still not relented its angry rebellion at such use.
For he was no longer young, and his body's weight had begun to
overmatch the inherent strength of his limbs and heart. And this same
heart, which had served him so long and so well as to be all but
forgotten, now labored heavily to compensate. And while he was
probably in no danger of a seizure, what he had seen in Arthur, and
the long suppressed fear that his physical hardihood would one day
desert him, combined to race dark imaginings through his mind.
And where the hell
was Ballard? That they must kill the orderly was clear, but it must be
done in such a way..... Damn him! His sudden appearance had undone a
scheme so perfect it would have solved everything. "Everything!"
But his wrath was wasted here, and he knew it. He let his great body
slide down to the hard, unyielding floor. And for all the anguish it
cost him, he knew he must remain there until the furor of his body had
lessened, and his thoughts become more tenable. Then he would act with
swift resolution. Or so he imagined.
For Ballard, in his ponderous and short-sighted way, had reached a
very different conclusion. Though unable to weigh the full
consequences of such a choice, he had decided that the days of his
master's dominance were numbered, and that it was time to abandon him.
"I'm me own master now," he said aloud. "Now I
decide who lives, and who don't."
So rising slowly, with plans of his own passing through him in the
dark, he descended the remaining steps, and approached at last the
final landing---the broad level space before the massive door.
He heard a sudden start in the gloom, and strained his eyes to see.
The single lamp was now smoking so badly, and cast such a wavering
glow..... He saw the orderly, crouched like a frightened child at the
foot of the impenetrable door. The Lieutenant took a breath, then
chose his course.
"Peace, Master Cummings," he said to him. "I haven't come to kill you.
Stand against the far wall if it will make your mind easier. I'm going
to let you out."
"But you. . .you murdered
him." Almost a sob.
"Not I, my friend. It was that bastard, Purceville, who done it before
I could stop him. And that'll be an end to my faithful service, I
promise you. After all these years' blind obedience, I see him now in
his true colors. I tell you, I've had enough."
He came forward with the ring of keys in his hand, as the other moved
distrustfully away. He inserted the iron shaft, turned it in the lock,
and pulled open the door with a seditious crack like the unsealing of
a coffin. Then stood away.
The orderly eyed the opening, torn between desire and fear. Then began
to inch toward it with his back against the stone, arms spread
plaintively behind him.
"Be cautioned," said Ballard as he drew closer. "You must walk past
the guards at the end of the corridor as if nothing has happened, then
lie low till I've had time to deal with the Master. His men are
ruthless, and the Lord only knows what they'll do if they
suspect....."
The young man looked back at him, confused, then suddenly burst
through the opening and out into the corridor beyond.
Ballard sealed and locked the barrier once more. And thinking of the
girl, so utterly helpless in the cold dark cell, he smiled.