IN WHICH ERNEST, AFTER A SUCCESSFUL RETREAT, FALLS INTO A TRAP.
TOM THORNTON was the maddest man I ever saw when he returned to my
chamber armed with the club. His father had followed him down stairs,
evidently for the purpose of pacifying him; and when they returned he
was still trying to dissuade him from any act of violence.
"Don't be rash, Thomas," pleaded my uncle, as they were coming up the
stairs.
"Don't talk to me, governor. I will bring the young cub to his senses!"
roared Tom, violently.
"Control your temper, and listen to reason. You will ruin yourself and
me by your rashness."
"I'll take care of that," replied Tom, as he rushed into the room.
Uncle Amos caught him by the shoulder when he reached the door and
attempted to detain him; but Tom was in such a fury that nothing could
check him. He shook off his father, and advanced towards me, apparently
with the intention of making an end of me. I raised the heavy bat, and
looked him steadfastly in the eye. I was the cooler of the two, and the
experience I had had in a hand-to-hand fight with Mr. Parasyte gave me
both courage and skill for such a conflict.
He came upon me with reckless vehemence, aiming a blow at my head; but I
struck at and hit his club with such force that it was knocked out of
his hands, and flew over into one corner of the room. Quick to take
advantage of this favorable circumstance, I ran to the spot, and put my
foot on the stick, in order to hold the weapon I had captured.
Tom rushed forward to recover his club at any hazard, but I laid about
me, right and left, with all my might, so that the bat whizzed through
the air. To have come within the circle of the flying bat would have
insured him a broken head, and he paused a moment. My uncle stepped
forward, and taking him by the shoulder, drew him back from such
dangerous proximity to my weapon.
"One of you will certainly be killed!" gasped my uncle. "Stop, Ernest!"
"I am ready to stop when he is," I replied, panting with my exertions.
"What have you done with my horse, you villain?" roared Tom.
"I'll tell you when you have cooled off," I answered. "I want you to
understand now that I am not to be trifled with."
"I'll bring you to your senses, yet," said Tom, with an awful scowl, as
he turned and rushed out of the room again, followed by my uncle.
It was plain that he had gone after another weapon, and perhaps this
time he would bring something more dangerous than a stick from the
wood-pile. Fighting was not at all to my taste, and I was not quite
willing to risk my prowess against such an insane assailant. I realized
that he would just as lief kill me as not, and I might not again be as
fortunate as I had been during the first onslaught. Discretion was
certainly the better part of valor in such an encounter, for there were
no laurels to be won in the battle; and I determined to make my escape
before the return of my savage foe. I did not mean to come back, for my
mission was in the great world until I had developed the mystery of my
own wrongs.
I approached the closet, after I had opened the window, for the purpose
of obtaining the will and the money I had concealed there. I was on the
point of opening the closet, when I heard a step on the stairs, and then
my uncle appeared at the door.
"Ernest, if you have any regard for me, or any gratitude for what I have
done for you, don't incense him any more," said he, in pleading tones.
"What shall I do?--let him kill me?" I replied.
"What have you done with the horse and chaise?"
"They are in Welch's Lane."
"Don't resist Thomas any more."
"I shall resist him to the death, if he don't let me alone," I answered,
firmly. "I didn't begin it."
"Yes, you did, Ernest. You carried the girl off, and he is acting for
her mother."
"The girl has been abused. If she hadn't been, she wouldn't have jumped
overboard."
"There! Thomas is coming!" exclaimed he, greatly alarmed at the prospect
of a renewal of hostilities. "Tell him where the girl is, for my sake,
if not for your own."
"I will not," I replied, as I heard Tom's step on the stairs.
The window was open, and while there was yet time, I leaped out upon the
roof of the library, with the bat still in my hand. Throwing the weapon
down, I stepped on the bay window, and from that dropped to the ground.
Picking up the bat, I retreated to the grove which bordered the lake
beyond the house. I had left the valuables in the closet, and was
therefore not prepared to take my final departure.
I had advanced but a few steps before Tom and his father appeared at the
window. My furious foe staid there only long enough to obtain a sight of
me. A moment afterwards he rushed out at the front door, and started in
pursuit of me. I doubted just then whether I had gained any advantage by
transferring the battle-ground to the open air, for Tom's legs were
longer than mine, though probably he had not practised running so much
as I had. Taking the path near the bank of the lake, I ran with all my
speed, till I came to the brook which flowed round the hill in the rear
of the cottage and discharged itself into the lake. For some distance
above the outlet the stream was from ten to fifteen feet wide. There was
a rude foot-bridge, consisting of a single wide plank, across it, for my
uncle's domain extended a short distance beyond it.
I crossed this bridge. Tom was only a few rods behind me, and a
brilliant strategic idea flashed into my mind as I stepped upon the
plank. As it is considered good policy for a retreating army to destroy
the bridges behind it, I adopted the suggestion, and as soon as I had
reached the other side of the brook, I lifted the end of the plank, and
pulled it over after me. Tom rushed up to the other side just as I had
completed the job. The stream was a good ten feet wide, and its banks
were rather soft and slippery.
From the movements he made, I thought, at first, that he intended to
leap over the brook; and I placed myself in such a position as to insure
his falling into the water, if he attempted such a piece of gymnastics.
Tom wore nice clothes, and he did not run the risk of soiling them by a
possible accident. He paused on the brink of the stream, and feared to
cross the Rubicon.
"How are you, Tom Thornton?" I exclaimed, after he had looked about him
for the means of bettering his situation, and of continuing the chase.
The exertions he had made to catch me had evidently cooled him off in
some measure. He was out of breath, and was apparently becoming
"demoralized." He looked at me, and scowled most unamiably.
"Follow the brook up to the road, and you can get across there," I
added, as he again looked about him for the means of overcoming his
difficulty.
"None of your impudence, you puppy!" replied he; but his invective was
tame compared with what it had been.
"If I am a puppy, Tom Thornton, perhaps you would like my bark to cross
the brook with," I answered.
"The time to settle up all this business will soon come," said he,
shaking his head.
"Mr. Tom Thornton, if you think you can scare me with any bugbears, you
are mistaken. I know you better than you think I do."
"What do you know?" demanded he, surprised out of his malignity by my
remark.
"What I know I keep to myself. When you go back to Mrs. Loraine, I wish
you would tell her from me that it won't sound well when it is told she
kept that poor girl shut up in her room for a week or ten days, with the
blinds nailed so that she could not open them, just because she took
long stitches, or trod on a flower. If I were in your place I shouldn't
like to marry a woman like that."
Tom looked uneasy, and played with his watch chain. I thought he wanted
to say something conciliatory; that he desired to extend to me the olive
branch of peace, the better to get me into his power. I was quite
willing to listen to any overtures of this kind, for I wanted to return
to the cottage, obtain the will and the money, and then bid a final
adieu to Parkville until I had solved the problem of my existence. I was
fearfully anxious lest my uncle should discover the loss of the
valuable document I had taken, and it should be found where I had
concealed it.
"Ernest, you are getting yourself into trouble," said Tom, after a
while, in milder tones than he had yet used.
"For which, no doubt, you are very sorry," I added.
"I'm sure I don't want to quarrel with you."
"You have been very mild and gentle to me."
"Well, I was mad, Ernest," said he, with something like a smile. "If you
will tell me where my horse is, we will call it all square."
"I told uncle Amos where he is. I left him down in Welch's Lane."
"Where is that?"
"Your father knows where it is. His horse is harnessed, and he will
drive you down there," I replied, hoping they would adopt my plan, and
thus enable me to enter my chamber and reclaim the valuables I had left
there.
"Very well; I will do so. I will help you put the plank across the brook
before I go," he replied.
"No, I thank you. I can put it across myself when I get ready to do so,"
I answered, cautiously.
"What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything; but I'm not going to put my head in the
wildcat's mouth."
"I won't touch you."
"I don't intend you shall. Go and get your horse, and I will take care
of myself."
"Well, I will."
He turned, and walked up the path towards the cottage. Of course I had
no faith in his word, and I determined to keep at a respectful distance
from him. When he had disappeared in the grove beyond the brook, I
raised the plank on one end, and then dropped it across the stream,
restoring the bridge to its original position. I crossed the brook, and
walked towards the house. When I came in sight of it, the buggy was
leaving the yard. I concluded Tom and his father had really adopted my
suggestion, and were going to Welch's Lane for the horse and chaise. But
I was too wary to advance without reconnoitring the ground.
"Your breakfast is all ready, Ernest," said old Betsey, the housekeeper,
as I approached the back door.
"Where are my uncle and the gentleman?" I asked.
"They told me they were going down to Parkville, and I need not wait
breakfast for them."
I went into the dining-room and sat down at the table, as much for the
purpose of getting something for Kate as to eat myself. I was scarcely
seated, when I was thrown over backwards, chair and all, and found
myself lying on the floor, held down by Tom Thornton.