WHAT DETAINED RALPH REXWORTH
Ralph Rexworth stood in the old ruin, looking very perplexed. He could
not find Mr. Charlton anywhere. He had whistled, and called, and
searched, but not a trace of the hiding man could he discover.
He felt anxious. What could it mean? Had the hiding-place been
discovered, and his chum's unfortunate parent again been taken
prisoner? Unless that was the case, he was at a loss to account for the
man's absence.
"It is no use waiting any longer," he mused, after he had searched the
ruin through for the third time. "He has not hurt himself and fallen
anywhere in here. He must have been alarmed, and have fled, unless he
is taken. Poor old Fred will be horribly worried when I go back and
tell him; but there is nothing else for me to do, and I shall be late
back, as it is."
He sighed. His friend's anxiety for his parent would be something like
what he felt for his missing father. It made Ralph think of that again,
and of the strange cry which he had heard in that place. He could not
understand that. As he stood there he felt an uncontrollable impulse to
penetrate to that lonely house again, to risk meeting the dogs, and to
try the effects of his call once more.
"I am bound to be late, anyhow," he muttered, "so here goes." And he
set off. Perhaps he might meet Charlton's father in the wood.
But--he stopped suddenly--what did this mean? There, on the soft
ground, were those tracks once more! Lord Elgert's lame mare had been
here! Did that mean that Lord Elgert himself had been; or had he lent
his trap to the police again, and had they managed to run their victim
down?
The tracks did not touch the ruin; they began some way from it, and
swept round the spinny towards that lonely house. For Ralph to follow
them was but child's play. He had hardly to slacken his pace a bit, so
plainly the marks were to be seen on the soft, little-trodden earth.
They guided him to the spinny--to a little path cut through it, of
which he had been ignorant before--right up to the house itself; and
there, standing before the open door, was Lord Elgert's trap and the
lame mare. It was not to the ruin, but to that mysterious house that
the trap had been driven. But why? Ah, how Ralph asked himself that
question, and how impossible it was to find an answer to it!
Lord Elgert seemed to have hated his father. Lord Elgert was here,
and he had heard his father's signal in this place. Ralph, crouching
behind the trees, uttered his old call, and then listened with almost
breathless attention.
Yes. There--there, muffled but indistinct, the answer came! It came
from the house. His father was there, and his father was in Lord
Elgert's power!
Ralph's first impulse was to dash forward; but he paused. He must
be cautious here. He remained hiding, waiting to see if any one had
noticed his call, and his prudence was rewarded by seeing Lord Elgert
himself come to the door, accompanied by the brutal-looking man whom he
had seen before, and glance anxiously round.
Then the two seemed to consult; and presently the man went away, to
return with a couple of great tawny hounds, both of which he let loose.
Ralph's heart stood still. What could he do against those fierce
brutes? The man and Lord Elgert went in, and the dogs roamed round.
They had not struck his scent yet; but presently they would do so, and
then it would be a hard business for him.
Ralph was preparing to cautiously creep away, when he heard a shout
from the house--a cry for help, and in his father's voice! That put all
else out of his head, and he dashed like a deer across the grass and
into the open door of that house. His father was there; his father was
crying for help, and he would stand by his side!
The dogs saw, and raised a deep-voiced bay. He slammed the door and
shut them out, then darted along in the direction of the sounds he had
heard.
They came from a room on the first floor and he rushed in, and
there--there his father struggled in the grasp of Lord Elgert and
his fierce companion. Mr. Rexworth had evidently been kept a captive
by being bound to the wall by a stout chain; and one of his arms was
swathed in dirty bandages, as though he was hurt.
Whether his captors wished to bind him still more securely, or whether
it was that they sought to convey him somewhere else, Ralph did not
know. He saw his father with his back to the wall, brandishing a stool
in one hand. He saw the man rush in, dodge the blow, and strike his
father down; and then, with a cry of rage, he sprang forward, seizing a
heavy stick that lay on the table, and struck wildly at the aggressor.
Alas! what could one stripling like he do against two such men? They
both turned, and Ralph received a heavy blow upon the temple; and then
all was darkness, and he knew nothing more.
But when he opened his eyes, where was he? What had happened? Why could
he not move?
He strove to rise. He felt giddy and sick, and his head ached and
throbbed dreadfully. Why he was bound--bound hand and foot, and he was
stretched upon the floor!
He rolled on his side. His father lay back against the wall, but his
chain was gone. He was only secured with a rope, in the same manner
that Ralph was fastened. But his eyes were closed, and his face was
very white. A dreadful fear filled the lad's mind--that he had come too
late, that his father was really dead now.
For a few minutes he lay still, quietly trying the strength of his
bonds. He knew that knots hastily tied could frequently be worked
loose; but, alas, it was a vain hope in his case! Those who had secured
him had done their work well.
And then suddenly he became aware of a hot, choky feeling in the air,
and a sound of crackling. He struggled into a sitting posture, and--oh,
horrible, horrible!--the room was full of smoke. The place was on fire,
and he and his dear father were there, helpless and bound, left to
perish in the flames!
What wonder that terror claimed him for the moment? Who would not
flinch then in such an awful position?
"Father! Father!" he cried; but the prostrate man returned no answer.
He lay silent, motionless. Ralph rolled over and over to his side.
Alas, what good would that do? He managed to struggle to his feet by
supporting himself in an angle of the room, and he gazed around. The
smoke was growing worse--he could hardly breathe when he stood up--and
hot puffs of air were forcing themselves through the flooring and
whirling along the passage and through the door of the room--the door
which was cracking and glowing red now, ready to burst into flame.
Oh, was there no help, no succour? If only his faithful Warren or dear
old Charlton knew of his peril, how they would come to his aid! Alas,
they were far away, and they did not know.
But what was that? A sound outside! A shout, and the dogs barking and
raging more than ever, in a perfect fury of anger. Then a smashing of
glass. Had the fire broken the windows? No. A form rising above the
sill, a man who staggered as the hot smoke met him, and who bent down
on all fours to creep across the room--a man who cried aloud--
"Ralph Rexworth, are you here? Are you here?"
It was Mr. Charlton; it was Mr. Charlton come to his aid. Oh, what a
swift rush of thanksgiving filled Ralph's heart then!
"Here, here!" he answered. "I am tied up; I cannot move. And father is
here, too; he is senseless." And Mr. Charlton was by his side in a few
moments.
"Thank God you are unharmed," he said, as he drew his knife across
the ropes that held Ralph prisoner. "I saw you enter, and I feared
mischief; and when those two came out and drove off, I knew not what to
think. There are two brutes of dogs there, and they prevented my trying
to get in. Then I saw the smoke and flame, and I knew what they had
done. I grew desperate, and made a dash for it. The dogs almost got
me, but I managed to get into a tree that grew close to the house; and
I passed along one branch to the top of the verandah, and so worked my
way round. It was risky, for if I had slipped those two brutes would
have been on me in a moment."
Mr. Charlton was not idle while he was talking. He had set Ralph free,
and had cut the ropes that held Mr. Rexworth, who now opened his eyes
and stared around in bewilderment.
"Oh father, father!" cried Ralph. "Thank God that you are alive! Try
and rouse yourself, father dear. We are in great danger. The house is
on fire, and if we do not get away quickly we must all perish."
"Ralph, what is it! How did you come?" the father asked vacantly. And
Mr. Charlton shook him.
"Never mind that now, friend!" he cried. "The fire is upon us. Ah, see
there!"--as the door fell with a crash and a burst of flame swept in
upon them. "We have not a moment to lose. Out you go, Ralph, and hold
on like a limpet! Be ready to aid your father, that is all"--as Ralph
scrambled through the window and managed to find footing on a narrow
ledge that ran round the house. "Now, Mr. Rexworth, prove yourself
a man. If you fall, the dogs won't give you a chance. Now, sir, for
Heaven's sake, try!"
"I will manage it all right, my good friend," answered Mr. Rexworth.
The flame and smoke had recalled him to the immediate peril. "Just a
hand through, that is all." And, summoning all his reserve of strength
and resolution, he managed to get from the window, aided by Mr.
Charlton in the room, and somewhat supported by Ralph behind him.
Cautiously holding on with grim energy, the three managed to creep back
to that point from which the rescuer had first started--the top of the
verandah. But this was a position of great peril now; for the flames
were breaking through it, and darting from the windows above it, and
the melted lead of roof and gutter hissed and spluttered. It seemed
death to go on; it was death to go back. And the two hounds below had
followed them round, and now stood barking up at them.
"We must risk it," panted Mr. Charlton. "Let me go first, and show you
how to do it. If you step on the wall you can reach the branch of the
tree in three strides. It seems very dreadful, but the peril is more
apparent than real. Look!"
He boldly jumped to the brickwork around which the fire darted. He took
three quick firm steps, and was able to swing himself into the limb of
the tree, safe from the fire's reach.
Mr. Rexworth followed by the same dangerous path. "Now, Ralph!" he
cried. But almost as the words came the whole of the verandah, and the
brickwork supporting it, fell in; and there Ralph was left clinging to
that narrow protection of the wall.
And the wall itself was cracking with the heat. He could not maintain
his position for long. At any moment it might fall and cover him in its
heated ruins.
Mr. Rexworth groaned in horror; Mr. Charlton looked on in dismay; and
Ralph clung there, with death behind, and death above, and death--the
worst death of all, red-eyed and lolling-tongued death--beneath
awaiting him!