PRIDE'S PRICE
Carthew whispered some further hasty instructions to Herries, and, "Yes,
my lord," the old factor answered again so that all could hear, and all
understood that the tenth Earl of Jura and Baron St. Just had thus
succeeded the ninth--who lay there dead on the floor before them.
The duchess was gently leading Sallie away. Herries followed them, on
his own errands, while Captain Dove and his accomplices remained looking
on with sullen, suspicious eyes, straining their ears in a vain attempt
to hear what was to be their fate.
Carthew turned to them. "I'll bid you good night now," he said, in a
tone not without a new tinge of authority in it, and at which they
looked anything but well pleased. "You'll be more comfortable in your
own quarters than anywhere else in the meantime." And, with that
sufficiently broad hint, he stood waiting for them to go.
Captain Dove had opened his mouth as if to speak, but said nothing.
Slyne, very pinched and white about the nostrils, drew Mr. Jobling
toward the door, as if he would not trust the shifty lawyer with
Carthew, and answered for them all, with a most sarcastic inflection,
"Good night,--my lord!" Now that the worst had come to the worst he was
his old cool, careless, calculating self again.
Captain Dove paused at the buffet in passing, and went on with both
hands full. Both he and Slyne, on their way toward the North Keep with
Mr. Jobling shambling along between them, not unlike a condemned
criminal, noticed the unusual number of able-bodied men-servants who
seemed to have found aimless occupation of some sort about the corridor,
and drew their own discomforting conclusions therefrom.
Slyne even hesitated for a moment on the threshold of the cosy
living-hall which occupies the base of the North Keep, and then, with a
grimace of disdain, followed the other two, closing the heavy door
behind him. Almost immediately he heard the key turned quietly in the
lock outside--and knew that his suspicions had been only too well
founded. Carthew intended to keep him and his associates prisoners
there. He bit his lip and pulled at his moustache as he watched Captain
Dove drawing the cork of one of the two bottles of champagne that
strategist had brought from the banquet-hall.
"We're cornered at last," he said suddenly, as the old man set the
bottle down after having imbibed the best half of its contents. "They've
locked us in here."
Captain Dove turned to glare disbelievingly at him, and then, darting
across to the door, tugged furiously at its wrought-iron handle. He set
a foot against the wall and tried again, with no better results. He
bounced about, almost frantic, blaspheming as if bereft of all
self-control. Mr. Jobling stood wringing his hands helplessly, his
flaccid features expressive of abject despair. But Slyne continued to
eye the old man with a strained, disconcerting composure.
"We haven't so much time to spare, Dove," said he bitingly, "that we
can afford to waste any more watching you play the fool. I expect that
fellow Carthew will have your whole history out of Farish M'Kissock
within--"
"If you had only kept _your_ damned mouth shut when Brasse was kicking
the bucket," cried Captain Dove, very venomously, "Carthew would be
keeping _him_ company now. The snake would have got him too. And we'd
have won out after all."
Slyne ground his teeth. But that was no moment for futile recrimination,
and self-interest served to stay the acrid retort on the tip of his
tongue.
"'If this and if that' doesn't make any difference now," he declared
evenly. "I'm not going to argue with you. I want to get out of this
before worse comes my way."
"But how--" moaned Mr. Jobling, across whose mental vision also were no
doubt flashing pictures of Wandsworth Common and Wormwood Scrubbs.
Slyne silenced him with a glance. "I'd very gladly leave you here to
your fate, you fat bungler!" said he, with irrepressible bitterness, "if
it weren't that you'd turn informer on us. So come on, both of you.
We've only one chance left among us. And, but for me, neither of you
would have even that." Wherewith, and only pausing to take a long pull
at Captain Dove's open bottle, he turned up the staircase, leaving them
to follow him or stay where they were, as they chose.
Captain Dove did follow him, curiously, but not forgetting to pocket the
other bottle. The shivering lawyer came close at his heels, no less
eager to snatch at any possibility of escape.
"Get into a change of clothes," ordered Slyne, as he opened the door of
his own room. "And I wouldn't be slow about it, if I were you--for _I'm_
going as soon as I'm ready."
Captain Dove's change did not unduly detain him, since he merely pulled
on a pair of serge trousers and a pilot-jacket on top of his other
attire. And Mr. Jobling was back in Slyne's room no less promptly. They
found it in darkness and Captain Dove uttered a stifled imprecation. But
almost immediately, they heard hasty footsteps on the stair without and
Slyne reappeared with a coil of thin strong cord in one hand.
"The flagpole-halliards," he explained breathlessly as he shut the door
behind him again. "My window looks out on the battlements. We must
clamber down. Make the rope secure at this end, Dove, but so that we can
pull it after us once we're all down--it's long enough to go
double--while I get some things together."
Captain Dove did as he was bidden, so deftly that Slyne had not quite
completed his own preparations when the old man called on him to go
first.
"Send Jobling down," said Slyne, pulling on an overcoat to cover his
evening clothes, and the stout solicitor gave voice to a very
heartrending groan as he glared blankly out into the black gulf beyond
the window.
"I won't go--" he was beginning when Captain Dove ran furiously at him,
clutched him round the waist in a gorilla-like grip, and thrust him,
feet foremost, struggling insanely, over the sill.
"Catch hold of the cord--both strands--or I'll drop you!" snarled the
old man. "Down you go, now. You'll find a knot every foot or so. You
needn't slip unless you force me to start you with a slam on the head."
And he stood watching, grimly amused, while his moaning victim sank out
of sight, very gradually.
In a few moments the weight on the rope relaxed.
"Are you there?" he demanded, and had to shout the question again at the
top of his voice, so strong was the wind.
"Yes, all right," the answer came back, very faint but palpably
freighted with helpless wrath.
"Come on, then, Slyne," ordered Captain Dove, and himself prepared to
follow the injured lawyer. "What's that for?" he called in through the
window. Slyne was busy securing a bundle about his own shoulders.
"Some spare wraps," Slyne shouted back from between set teeth. "We're
going to take Sallie away with us. On you go--I'll be right after you."
Nor had the other two long to wait till he came scrambling down in his
turn. And, as soon as they had retrieved their rope, they followed his
lead through the darkness.
The three fugitives made their way in the teeth of the wind along the
battlements to a point overlooking the terrace that lies at the back of
the banquet-hall. And there again their rope stood them in good stead.
Slyne thanked his stars that he had studied all the intricacies of the
castle so thoroughly, as he led the way, with infinite precaution, from
the terrace into the empty passage down which they crept as far as the
service-pantry behind the gun-room.
The gun-room was empty also. As he entered it, he gave vent to a long
sigh of heartfelt relief.
"We're safe now," he told Captain Dove in a guarded tone, and, pulling
off his overcoat, smoothed down his crumpled shirt-front. "But you'd
better hurry down to the water-gate and make sure that the boat there
doesn't go off without us. As soon as Sallie comes along, we'll--"
"But what if she won't come?" asked Captain Dove, becoming recalcitrant
again. "And how do you know there's a boat below?"
"You don't suppose Brasse swam ashore, do you!" Slyne retorted
impatiently. "The boat that brought him from the _Olive Branch_ was
still there a few minutes ago--while I was at the top of the tower. I
suppose he told them to wait for him, in case he struck trouble here.
But they may not wait much longer, if you waste any more time.
"And, as to Sallie, leave me to manage. If you trip me up again now with
any of your damned nonsense," he finished with sudden fury, "I'll go to
gaol quite contentedly--and make sure there that you hang."
"I might still make terms with that fellow Carthew," Captain Dove
suggested provokingly and with a great air of cunning.
"All right," returned Slyne. "That's enough." And, crossing toward the
fireplace, he pressed the bell-push beside the mantel.
Captain Dove snatched up a candle and, with that, made a dart for the
panel in the wainscot. It would not move despite his most desperate
efforts. Slyne pulled a bunch of keys from one pocket and promptly
released the powerful spring-lock. At a sign from him, Mr. Jobling
descended the steps below in Captain Dove's wake. Slyne pulled the panel
back into place and was seated quietly writing at the table in one
corner when a sleepy-looking footman entered the room.
"I want you to take this note along to her ladyship's rooms," said
Slyne, and yawned. "Give it to her maid. You needn't wait for an
answer."
"Very well, sir," the man returned with all the respect due to Slyne's
recent standing there and evidently still without suspicion of any
change. Slyne yawned again, as if ready for bed, re-reading what he had
written. And then, watching his messenger go off with the missive,
breathed a thanksgiving that was, at the same time, a prayer to the
goddess of chance who was his deity. For he was taking risks now that
were recklessly dangerous and might, at any moment, prove deadly to him.
"It would be pretty fatal, for instance, if Carthew chanced to be with
the duchess and her when Ambrizette takes my note in," he told himself.
"But--there are a dozen other chances of accident, and what's the use of
worrying? The wind doesn't always blow from the same quarter. I'd feel
safe enough if I only knew where Carthew is at this precise moment."
He crossed to the fireplace, picking up a cigarette by the way, and,
having lighted it with trembling fingers, stood staring down into the
dull glow of the dying logs on the hearth. He was wondering whether
_all_ was really lost, and listening most impatiently to every slightest
sound. But he had not long to wait before Sallie, pale of face and with
a world of woe in her wet eyes, came very quietly into the room.
He held out both his hands to her, but she stopped at a little distance.
"You mustn't blame me, Sallie," he said in a voice meant to carry
conviction with it. "I didn't know--I had no idea--I believed honestly
from the first that you were--"
"It makes no difference now," she interrupted, "and--I--I--Oh! I'm _so_
ashamed. What can Mr. Carthew think of me! And he _knew_ all the time
that I had no right to be here!"
"It wasn't your fault either," he assured her soothingly. "You were
misled--no less than I was. How could we ever have foreseen--But there's
no time to talk of that just now. We must be off. Captain Dove has gone
on ahead. He left me to show you the way to the boat."
She lifted a hand dazedly to her forehead.
"I don't know what to do," she murmured. "But--of course, I can't stay
here now."
Slyne was watching her tensely. "Most assuredly not," he agreed in haste
and trying hard to hide his elation. "You can't possibly stay
here--after what has happened. You've far too much proper pride."
"And my promise to you is no longer binding," she said, "since I'm
not--It was Lady Josceline Justice with whom you made that bargain--and
not with me."
He saw that it was no moment to argue that point. All he wanted at once
was to get her safely on board the _Olive Branch_. And he did not
contradict her.
"Ambrizette must come with me, Jasper," she said brokenly. "I won't
leave her behind."
He set his teeth to stifle an angry refusal of that difficult condition.
"All right, Sallie," he answered smoothly. "I'll risk that too, since
you say so. Slip on this coat--it will be bitter cold in the boat. And
I'll send for Ambrizette."