A VERY TIGHT CORNER
The suspense of the two or three moments which followed the entrance of
the pair constituted an ordeal not to be forgotten. That Volna mastered
herself sufficiently to pass through it without a sign or sound, was
the greatest proof of her courage she could have given.
It was less trying for me. I had witnessed the woman’s former visit,
and, despite her ominous whisper to her husband, had come to the
conclusion that no attempt was to be made on our lives. Moreover I was
armed. But Volna knew nothing of this. I had only been able to whisper
a hurried and very indefinite warning to her, calculated, despite my
assurance, to work up her fears to a high strain.
They stood still for some moments; the man slightly in front of his
wife, who set a candle she was carrying down behind her. The faces of
both then caught the red gleam from the embers of the fire; and so evil
looking a couple I hope never to see again.
The man’s long, thin, cunning face was strained and intense, and his
narrow treacherous eyes glanced from me to Volna and back from Volna
to me, as if in doubt which to attack first. Just behind him stood the
tall, gaunt, and angular form of the woman inciting him; her eyes
gleaming with excitement, her lips parted and drawn in a snarl to one
side, and every line, cicatrice and seam of her scarred repulsive
features brought into strong relief by the ruddy gleam of the log fire.
She looked a veritable hag of evil, utterly detestable, deadly, and
loathsome.
“The man first,” she whispered, jogging her accomplice.
He glanced half round to her, irritable, and then I saw that he was
carrying a length of cord.
He began to creep slowly toward me until Volna, as she confessed
afterwards, could endure it no longer. She sprang up and called me.
In another moment I was on my feet; and before the two could recover
from their astonishment, I sprang past them, slammed the door, and set
my back against it, my hand on my revolver.
“Now perhaps you’ll tell me what this means?”
The woman was for fighting and stood at bay like a beast, just robbed
of its intended victim. But the man was of poorer stuff, and cowered
ashen white and speechless.
“Mayn’t we move about our own house?” asked the woman. “Ivan, if you’re
a man, you won’t stand this.”
But Ivan had no sort of fight in him. He clapped his hands to his face
and sank into my chair by the fire. The hag looked his way and swore at
him with a snarl of contempt.
“Come now, what does this mean?”
“It means that if you don’t like it, you can clear out, the pair of
you;” and she turned fiercely on Volna. “Coming here with your lies
about being lost, and wanting to rob poor and honest folk, and then
trumping up a lying accusation. Who are you, I’d like to know.”
Her assurance was as brazen as her courage was unquestionable; I own I
was at a loss what to do.
“That won’t do with me. Your one chance is to tell the truth,” I said.
“You’re a man, aren’t you, to call a woman a liar? Do you hear that,
Ivan?” and she went to him and shook him. “Get up, pig: don’t sit
shaking there when you hear me abused by this thief of the night.” She
hauled him to his feet; and Volna took the opportunity of crossing to
my side.
“You mustn’t talk like that here,” he said with a sort of hang-dog
manner.
“I’d rather talk to you than to the woman there. Now you----”
“You hear that, Ivan. Strike him for that. You deal with him and I’ll
look after the wench.” She pushed him toward me and seemed for the
moment to infect him with some of her own desperate courage.
“If you don’t like it, go,” he said.
“No, they shan’t go now,” interrupted the fury. “We daren’t let them go
now, you fool. You know. Go on.”
He still hung back, however, and then she suddenly wrenched open a
drawer and took out a formidable looking chopper.
“Here, Ivan, now will you do it? Down with the man and leave the wench
to me. It will be death if we don’t do it and get away.”
The remnants of his courage awoke when he felt the weapon in his hand;
and I heard Volna catch her breath at the look which gradually stole
into his beady, cruel eyes, as he looked at me.
Goaded by the woman’s taunts and the fear-thoughts which her words had
started, he took a couple of stealthy steps toward me while the woman
went round the table to reach Volna.
Just as he was raising his weapon to rush at me, I whipped my revolver
out and covered him.
“Drop that; you murderous devil,” I cried, in a ringing tone.
With a cry of fear he started back and let the chopper fall on the
brick floor. In a moment I had possession of it, and handed my pistol
to Volna.
“If she moves, use it,” I said.
But the sudden turning of the tables had knocked the fight even out of
the virago of a woman. The man no longer counted. He stumbled back and
cowered against the wall, getting as far away from me as possible, and
just stared at me beside himself with fright.
“Now we can talk,” I said.
“We didn’t mean anything,” declared the woman. “We were only trying to
frighten you so that we might get safely out of the room. I’m sure I
tried to do all I could for you; giving you food and----”
“That’ll do. Go to that end of the room.” She obeyed me. “Now answer
my questions. Why did you come stealing into the room just now--before
this time?”
“I only wanted to see you were all right and to fetch the lamp. I’ve
done my best for you,” she murmured in a whining, canting, fawning tone.
“You won’t answer, eh? Well, I’ll give your man a chance. Now you, tell
me what was that rope for that you brought in?”
The woman tried to reply, but I silenced her. The man glared at me
speechless and helpless.
“Your only chance is to tell the truth. You were going to tie me up
with it? Confess.”
“No, no, no,” he gasped through his pallid lips.
“You had two ropes; one for me and one for my sister here.”
“No, no, no,” he repeated.
“You know I speak the truth. But if you won’t confess that, tell me why
you drugged that coffee you gave me.”
The woman broke out again declaring by all the saints that I must
be mad to ask such a question. The man only gazed stupidly at me in
silence.
“Let him drink it then,” said Volna; and the woman’s start at the
shrewd suggestion told me that it had struck home.
“Yes, that’s the test,” I agreed readily. “Will you get that jug?”
Volna took out the jug and poured the coffee back into the cups.
They both watched her intently as she did this, turning now and then
from her to me, with swift glances of speculative fear.
“Now if this is not drugged or poisoned, drink it;” and I took one of
the cups and held it toward the man; “Quick,” I cried, so sternly that
he trembled. His eyes were everywhere except on my face, and his lips
moved convulsively.
“Drink it, fool,” said the woman with a sneer.
He stretched out his hand toward the cup, and then with a swift gesture
struck at it and dashed it to the ground.
“I knew it. I need no more proof,” I declared.
“I’ll drink it,” cried the woman, making a snatch at the cup on the
table. But I caught her hand, and Volna took away the cup.
“No, no, that is for the police,” I said.
At the mention of the police an angry oath leapt from her lips and she
strove desperately to wrench her hand from my grip to get the cup. I
had to use some violence to thrust her back.
Foiled in the effort to destroy the traces of the drug, her rage
completely mastered her; and being unable to vent it upon us, she
turned upon the man. With a running accompaniment of abuse and
reproaches as the cause of the trouble she seized him and shook him
till his teeth rattled like castanets, and then clouted and kicked him
and tore at him with her nails like a fiend incarnate until he fell
huddled up on the floor howling to her to stop.
Volna opened the door and went out to escape the din and repulsive
sight and then called me hurriedly.
In a moment the whole infernal scheme of the two was made clear. The
heavy burden which we had heard set down outside the door and which had
so puzzled me was explained, as well as the mysterious rustling which
had set me wondering.
The one was a cask half full of petroleum; the other a huge heap of
shavings, chips and hay, ready saturated with petroleum.
“They meant to bind us in our sleep and fire the house. I did not think
there could be such fiends,” said Volna, trembling.
It was too obvious to question. The heap of shavings laid ready for
lighting told its own story; and with the petroleum thrown into the
room where we were to have been left bound and unconscious, nothing
could have saved us.
Volna clung to my arm faint and cold with the horror of it. “Let us
go,” she whispered.
“That is why the woman was dressed to go out. I see it now. That fear
of hers of the police, the noise we heard outside; they were expecting
the police and meant to fly on our horses. Such devils ought not to be
allowed to escape.”
But it was obvious that we dared not run the risk of denouncing them.
“Let us go,” said Volna again. “The very air of the place makes me
faint and ill.”
I went back into the room.
“I have found out all your infernal scheme. Get out of here, and keep
out of sight, lest I take the law in my own hands;” and I drew the
revolver again to emphasize my words.
The man was seemingly afraid to move; so I dragged him to his feet,
hauled him to the door and flung him down in the passage. “Upstairs
with you and if I catch so much as a glimpse of you I’ll shoot you like
the murderous skunk you are.”
He crawled away from my feet and slunk up the creaking staircase
shaking in every limb and casting frightened glances behind him.
“What are you going to do?” asked the woman, coming to the door.
“Hold your tongue,” I thundered. “Go to the villain you egged on to do
this thing. Quick, or----” She was scared by my rage and went without
another word.
“Shall I change?” asked Volna.
I nodded. “And bring me my things. I’ll stop on guard here.”
I heard the two muttering and wrangling in the room above; but neither
made any attempt to come down; and in some few minutes we were ready.
“We’ll go together and get the horses,” I said to Volna; and was in the
act of opening the door when I started involuntarily as some one beat
a loud peremptory summons on the panel.
“Open the door there, open,” called a voice.
Volna started and clutched my arm. “What shall we do?”
If it was the police, we were caught like rats in a trap.
“We must brazen it out,” I said.
“The papers?” she whispered. The knocking was repeated more loudly and
insistently than before. “Open there, at once. I say.”
“See if there’s fire enough to burn them.”
She ran back into the room.
“Who is there?” I called.
“The police. Open or we shall break in.”
To shew hesitation would be fatal. So I unfastened the door and threw
it open.
At that moment, Volna came back and shook her head.
Two men entered. “You are our prisoners,” cried the first comer. “If
you resist the consequences will be on your heads.”
“We don’t resist. I’m glad you’ve come.”
They seized and held us both; the man who took me snatching the
revolver which was still in my hand.
“Ah, a police weapon,” he said, significantly, and shewed it to his
companion, who appeared to be in command.
“Search them both for any more weapons,” came the order, sharp and
ringing.
“Wait a moment. There is a mistake here,” I said.
“You’ve made it then, in letting us net you here so easily;” and they
both laughed.
“What is the charge against us?” I asked.
It was about as tight a corner as fate in an ill-natured mood could
have devised for us.