IN WHICH PHIL IS STARTLED BY THE SIGHT OF A FAMILIAR FACE.
I actually laughed when I heard the bolt of the lock snapped upon me;
partly because I thought it was better to laugh over my mishaps than to
cry, and partly because the trick of which I had been made the victim
was simply ridiculous. Perhaps, if I had been a boy brought up in the
city, and had never been thrown upon my own resources in times of
peril, I might have taken a different view of the matter. I can easily
believe that many boys would have been intimidated, and given up the
money and the note. Lynch ought to have known me better, though I had
been a lamb at Leavenworth.
I seated myself in the rocking-chair, and looked around the room. There
was a luthern window in it, which opened upon the roof. A cheerful
coal fire burned in the grate, and the room was quite comfortable.
I examined the silver card box on the table, and the other articles
there; but I was not much interested in them, and soon gave myself up
to a consideration of the situation. Of course the whole trick was
intended to intimidate me; but I positively refused to be intimidated.
I supposed my persecutors would soon return, and renew the onslaught.
For my own part, I could not see what they intended to gain, even if
they obtained the note against Mr. Gracewood. It was stupid of them to
imagine that he would give up the money to total strangers. Still they
must have believed he would let them have the gold, for they could not
have taken all this trouble for the seventy dollars which I had. But
it was no use to speculate upon their intentions. The note was safe in
my pocket, and the money at my boarding-house. If I had supposed there
was any possibility of the villains obtaining the former, I would have
burned it on the spot, for I knew that Mr. Gracewood would pay the
money whether there was any legal document to show for it or not.
I rose from my chair, and walked to the door, in order to examine it.
This same Lynch had once before locked me into a room, and it was
possible that I might break this door open, as I had done on the former
occasion. But I found this was a different piece of work from that at
Leavenworth. It fitted well in the frame. I tried the handle, and found
that it was securely locked.
"No use, Phil," said a voice in the entry, which I recognized as that
of Morgan Blair.
It appeared that my late fellow-workman was stationed as a sentinel at
the door to prevent my escape.
"Where's Lynch?" I asked, placing my mouth at the key-hole.
"Down stairs. Are you ready to give up the note?"
"No."
"When you are, let me know."
I made no reply, but walked to the window to see what the prospect was
in that direction. I did not wish to stay in my prison a great while,
for I knew that my father would worry about me if I did not return
soon. I was in the hands of the enemy, and I was afraid that Lynch
would keep me in the room till the middle of the night, and then, with
the aid of others, overcome me, and rob me of the note. I was not so
well satisfied with the situation as at first, when I could realize the
possibilities of the occasion.
The window opened upon a steep roof. I raised the sash very carefully,
so that Blair might not know what I was about. But, then, I had hardly
a hope of being able to escape in this direction; for I did not see how
it was possible for me to descend to the street. However, I should be
out of the reach of my inquisitors, even if I passed the night on the
cold slates of the roof. I climbed out of the window, and my head swam
when I looked down the fearful depth below me. I was on the rear slope
of the roof, and beneath me was the back yard of the house.
The darkness rather favored me, for I could not so readily measure
distances, and in a short time I became accustomed to the giddy height,
though I thought it best not to look down. Holding on with one hand at
the side of the luthern window, I closed the lower sash, and dropped
the upper one. Grasping the inside of the window-frame for support, I
climbed up till my feet were placed upon the top of the two sashes.
I could then reach the roof of the luthern window. A ledge on the
top of it afforded me a good hold, and I drew myself up, though with
considerable difficulty, and my breath was all gone when I reached the
point, exhausted by the violence of my exertions.
I lay where I was a few moments to recover my wind and my strength. I
had placed the poker on the roof before I ascended, for I was afraid
that I might yet have to fight a battle. I had worked very carefully,
so as not to disturb the sentinel at the door of the room; and, so far
as I could judge, I had been successful, for I heard nothing of him. I
was on the top of the luthern window; and, so far as the inquisitors
were concerned, I was safe. I preferred to stay there, though the night
was quite chilly, rather than in the chamber of Lynch. But if I could
have my choice, it would suit me better to go home, and sleep in my
own bed.
About half way between the luthern window and the ridge-pole of the
house there was a skylight. The light shone up through it, and I
concluded from its position that it was used to light the entry where
Blair was keeping guard over the door. Lying down on the slated roof,
with my feet resting upon the luthern window, I found I could reach the
upper end of the skylight with my hands. I looked through the glass
into the entry below, and saw a gas-light burning there. Under me was
the door of the gambling-chamber, but Blair was not there. I tried to
raise the skylight; but it was secure, and could not be moved. It was
at least fourteen feet above the floor, and the space between the glass
and the ceiling of the entry was boxed in, forming a ventiduct for the
passage of the air.
If I could have opened the skylight, it would have been hardly
prudent for me to drop down fourteen feet upon a hard floor, with the
additional peril of encountering my enemies in going down the stairs. I
could not see Blair, and I concluded that he had heard me, in spite of
all my precautions, and had gone to procure the aid of Lynch. Whether
this view was correct or not, I decided to act upon it, and increase
the distance between myself and my persecutors. Grasping the upper part
of the skylight, I dragged myself up to the point where I had placed my
hands. Here I paused to breathe again.
While I was waiting I heard voices through the skylight. Looking
through the glass, I saw Lynch and Blair, the latter unlocking the
chamber door. I immediately concluded not to rest any longer, and
laying hold of the ridge-pole, I drew myself up, and took a seat
astride the saddle-boards. The block extended as far as I could see in
the gloom of the night. With my hands upon the saddle-boards, I hopped
along like a frog till I was satisfied that I was out of the reach of
any pursuers. But I began to be very anxious to reach _terra firma_
once more, and I continued to hop till I came to a four-story block
with a flat roof. This was hopeful, and passing from the steep slope I
found myself in a very comfortable position.
I could discover no signs of any pursuers behind me; and I concluded
that the inquisitors were not enterprising enough to follow me in
the perilous track I had chosen. Pleasant as was my present location
compared with the slippery sides of the slated roof, I was not disposed
to spend the night there. But I did not think it safe to jump down into
the street, for I knew that the pavement could stand the shock of such
a descent better than I could. On one of the roofs there were planks
laid down, and places for lines, and I concluded that it was used for
drying clothes. At every house I found a scuttle, and some of them
were not fastened; but I did not like the idea of being captured as a
burglar, and sent to the station-house to remain over Sunday. I walked
to the end of the block, where a cross-street interrupted my further
progress in that direction.
Between the several tenements which composed the block there were brick
walls rising about a foot above the flat roof. They were the dividing
lines between the houses. I observed that the house at the corner of
the cross-street occupied as much space as three of the others, and
was planked all over, with stanchions for clothes-lines. I concluded
that the building was used for a purpose different from the others. I
went to the front, and looked down into the street. There were a couple
of gas-lamps before the door, and people were constantly arriving and
departing. I satisfied myself that the house was a hotel.
In the rear of the roof there was a kind of crane, with a couple of
ropes reaching to the ground. I reasoned that the apparatus was used
for hoisting up baskets of clothes. I also found a scuttle door, which
was not fastened, and I began to consider whether I should go down by
the rope or by the stairs. I did not like the idea of dangling in the
air fifty feet from the ground on the one hand, or of being captured
as a thief on the other. If I went down the rope, it might drop me in
some back yard, where I might be liable to suspicion if discovered. On
the whole, I concluded that the stairs were the safer expedient, and I
carefully opened the scuttle door.
The steps led down to a well-lighted entry; and, having satisfied
myself that no one was there, I descended, taking the precaution to
hook the door behind me, which some careless servant had neglected to
do, though I was not disposed to blame her for the neglect. Passing
down the steps, I came to a long entry, from which opened on each side
the sleeping-rooms. The stairs were at the other end, and I walked
as lightly as my thick boots would permit through the hall. At the
stairs I heard the sound of voices on the floor below, and I paused. I
concluded that the upper floors were used for sleeping-rooms, and that
no one would remain long in the entry. Presently I heard a door open,
and then the sound of footsteps on the stairs below. As all was still
again, I ventured to descend the steps to the next hall.
I had hardly reached this floor before a gentleman came out of one
of the rooms; but he passed me, and went down stairs without taking
any notice of me. I was now on the third story, and must descend two
more flights in order to reach the street. I was not a thief, and
there was no stolen property upon me. But men in white jackets were
always whisking about in hotels, as I had observed at the Planters'.
I determined to be ready with an answer if any of these fellows
challenged me, and to tell the whole truth if I was detained.
I had hardly reached this conclusion before a waiter in a white jacket
confronted me, looked at me suspiciously, and demanded my business.
"Where is Mr. Rockwood?" I asked, using the name most familiar to me.
"That's his room over there, where the door is open," said he, pointing
towards the other end of the hall, and then continuing on his way up
stairs.
I walked in the direction indicated, intending to rush down stairs as
soon as the waiter was out of hearing. I went as far as the open door,
and looked into the apartment. A gentleman sat in an arm-chair, reading
a newspaper. A glance at him startled me more than anything that had
ever occurred to me before.
That gentleman was Matt Rockwood, it seemed to me, dressed in his best
clothes. He glanced from his paper into the entry, as I paused there.
The face, the expression, the white beard,--everything about him was
Matt Rockwood.