starve yourself to death up in my room. There, jump up and come and
shut the door, and then have a good long read. I'll get back to you as
soon as I can, and then we will have a good game at draughts or chess.
But I mustn't be up here too much, or it will make the girls suspicious.
There, good-bye for the present."
Waller went down and busied himself at once over the letter to his
father, telling him of some of the things that were going on, but
carefully--though strongly tempted--omitting all allusion to the
fugitive.
It was rather a slow and laborious task for the boy, clever as he was at
most things, though none too able in the use of a quill pen. But he got
his letter finished at last, the big post-paper carefully folded and
sealed, and then went off to the post-bag at the little village shop,
before hurrying back home to partake of his tea, which was waiting.
It was a lonely meal, and the boy sighed as he stirred the sugar, and
wished he could have Godfrey Boyne down, as companion for himself, and
to cheer the poor fellow up.
It was quite dark by the time he had done, and with the full intention
of suggesting that they should wait till the girls had gone to bed, and
then steal down together for a walk in the forest, the boy rose to go
and make an observation or two as to the position of the servants,
before stealing up to join his friend.
Waller rose, went across to the bell, the pull of which he had taken in
his hand, when he was startled by a distant scream, followed by half a
dozen more, and the trampling of feet somewhere above, while, as he
rushed out into the hall, he was just in time to hear a door bang and
quick steps hurrying along the kitchen passage.
CHAPTER TEN.
ALARMING SOUNDS.
The thoughts of Godfrey Boyne occupied so much position in Waller's
brain that he at once concluded something must be wrong with him, and
rushing upstairs two at a time, and making sure that he was not
followed, he continued the rest of his way in the darkness as silently
as he could, pausing to listen at the top of the attic stairs, and then
cautiously creeping to and trying the door of his den.
All was perfectly still there, and he found the door fastened from
within.
"False alarm," he said to himself; and he crept down again to make his
way to the kitchen, from which, as he drew nearer, there came faint
hysterical cries and a most unpleasant smell of burning.
Hurrying into the kitchen, Waller found that the cries came from Bella,
who was lying upon her back upon the shred hearthrug in front of the
kitchen fire, while Martha was trying to bring her fellow-servant round
from a fainting fit, and causing the horrible stench by burning the
dried wing of a goose close to the girl's nostrils and making her sneeze
violently.
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" cried Bella, uttering a sob, and then giving vent
to a tremendous sneeze.
"Bless the King!" said Martha Gusset quietly. "Sneeze again, dear;
it'll do you no end of good."
The advice came rather late, for the girl's face was already wrinkling
up for another nervous convulsion that seemed stronger than the last.
"Bless the King!" said the cook again, "There, there, dear: you will be
better soon."
"What's the matter, Martha?" said Waller anxiously, and with a horrible
dread upon him that all had been found out.
"She's had a fright, my dear. I don't quite know yet what it all means.
She thinks she's seen something, but I daresay it's only one of them
owls."
"Oh, no, no, no, no!" sobbed Bella, "it was something dreadful--
something dreadful!"
"Well, well, then, my dear, tell us what it is," said Martha, in her
most motherly way, "and it will do you good."
"Oh, it was dreadful!" moaned Bella. "I remembered that I had forgotten
to shut the window in master's chamber, which I opened this afternoon to
let the sun in and get the room aired, and without stopping to fetch a
light I went up in the dark, and then--and then--Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh
dear! Oh dear!"
"Take another sniff of the feathers, my dear, and have a good sneeze,
and that will relieve you."
"Oh, do a-done, cook, and throw the nasty thing behind the fire. I was
just coming out again into the gallery, when I heard something horrid."
"Heard?" cried Waller excitedly. "Then you didn't see it?"
"No, Master Waller. I only heard it walking. Somewhere up by your
room--I mean your den, as you call it. And then all in the dark there
come _bumpity bump_ all down the stairs, and I shruck and shruck again,
and ran for my life."
"My!" said cook. "Was it as bad as that? But what was it, my dear?"
"Oh, I don't know, cook. Something dreadfully horrid, and it was
dragging a dead body all down the stairs, and knocking the back of the
head hard on every step."
"Fancy!" said Martha, with an emphatic sniff. "It's all stuff, and
nonsense. No such thing could have happened. It was all because you
went up in the dark."
From feeling startled, and in dread of his secret being known, a rapid
change came over Waller; half-suspecting what must have occurred, and
finding it covered by the girl's superstitious notions, added to which
there were the feathers, the sneezes, and the cook's blessings upon his
Majesty King George the Third, the boy's risible faculties were so
bestirred that he burst into a roar of laughter.
The effect was almost magical. Bella, who had been lying stretched out
upon her back, tapping the floor with her heels occasionally in her
paroxysms, suddenly started bolt upright, to exclaim in an indignant
voice--
"Yes, it's all very fine for you to laugh, Master Waller!"
"Well, who wouldn't laugh at such nonsense?" said the boy.
"But it isn't nonsense, nor it isn't stuff, cook. You may laugh, sir,
but there's something walks up and down there in the dead of the night,
and I heard it only last night, too, and told cook."
Martha Gusset slowly bent her head by way of acquiescence, and made as
if to throw the goose-wing, with which she had been fanning herself,
behind the fire, but altered her mind, and put it on the chimneypiece
with the bright brass candlesticks.
"Up and down where?" asked Waller.
"Oh, I don't know, sir; but it was somewhere in the roof."
"Bah!" cried Waller, contemptuously. "And pray what did cook say?" he
went on, as he gave a glance at the comfortable-looking dame.
"Said she was a silly goose, my dear," cried the lady of the kitchen,
with something like a snort, "and that she mustn't eat so much for
supper. I telled her, Master Waller, that she might go up and down the
stairs and passages in the dead of the night for a hundred years, and
she'd never see anything uglier than herself."
"Ah, you wait," said Bella.
"Did you hear or see anything, cook?" said Waller tentatively.
"I always go to bed to sleep, my dear."
"But I mean this evening, just now?"
"No, my dear. I had had my tea, and was having a comfortable nap over
the fire."
"Why, Bella," said Waller, laughing, "you must have heard one of those
big bouncing rats that make their nests in the ivy, and come in through
the windows in the night."
"Ah, you may sneer at me, Master Waller, but I wouldn't sleep up there
alone of a night for crowns of gold. It was just as I said. It was
just like one of those horrid things you see in the old books in
master's library, dragging dead bodies down the stairs."
"Rat dragging a dead sparrow," said Waller, and he hurried out of the
kitchen to make his way out into the hall, where, consequent upon her
fright, Bella had not lit the lamp, and then cautiously upstairs to the
top attic, where he softly tried the door. He found it still fastened,
and uttered a low signal agreed upon between the boys.
This was responded to by the click of the lock, and as Waller entered
his fugitive guest went on tiptoe back to the old chair on which he
passed so much of his time, and there was just faint light enough coming
through the window to show that he was softly rubbing his back.
"What's the matter?" said Waller.
"Fell down and hurt myself--all down those stairs. Made a big lump on
my head."
"Why, what were you doing?"
"Oh, I waited till it was growing dark, and then I felt that I must get
out of this room, if only for a few moments, just to breathe the air in
that big passage. But the steps were so horribly polished with wax that
I went down from top to bottom."
"Oh!" said Waller. "Then I suppose you don't know that you frightened
one of our maids."
"Did I? I think I did hear somebody shriek."
"You did; and if you do things like that again, all will be found out.
I shall get into terrible trouble, and you will be caught, and you know
what that means."
"Yes," said Godfrey sadly; "I know what that means."
"Well, then, I don't mean to trust you any more," said Waller, "and I
shall keep that door locked until I feel it's safe. As soon as I can
get you out, we will go off into the woods. I only hope our maid won't
talk about it, but I am afraid she will."
There was cause for Waller's fear, for the very next day Bella told the
gardener all about her alarm, and that night when he went down to the
village shop, Joe Hanson made a small audience of the village people
open their eyes widely, stare, and feel, as they told one another, a
curious creepy sensation right down their backs.
One of the gardener's audience was Tony Gusset, a man who did not work
much at shoe-making or mending, but when he did he thought a great deal,
and after this occasion he mused much over what Bella had heard. Then
he put that and that together, and thought of a certain reward of a
hundred pounds for the taking, dead or alive, of any one of the French
spies who had sought refuge in the forest; and that reward haunted the
village constable and kept him awake all night.
The next day, too, Bella's, fright was food for reflection, and he mixed
up with it the appearance of certain soldiers who had been billeted in
the next village.
Tony Gusset thought very slowly, and he reasoned a good deal as well,
and it resulted in his asking himself this question: If a man knew where
the spies were and showed them to the soldiers, how much would he get,
and how much would the soldiers want for their share?
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
WEARY OF HIDING.
"If he sees me going up and down like this he'll tell me I look like a
wild beast in a cage, and he'll be quite right; I do. I feel like one.
There are moments when it seems as if I can't bear it. All this dreary
wait, wait, wait; all this longing to be out in the fresh air, free. It
makes my head throb, and when he comes I could quarrel with him and
fight, good chap as he is, so anxious to help me. And then there are
the things he brings me. But I can't eat. I must--I will get out, if
it's only for an hour's run so as to make myself tired. What must it
feel to be a real prisoner, shut up, poor wretch, for years!"
Godfrey Boyne, who looked thin and haggard still, was sitting upon the
edge of the truckle bed, elbows on knees, chin upon one hand, while the
nails of the other were brought close to his firm teeth, to be nibbled
and gnawed down till they were close to the quick, as their owner gazed
straight out through the open window at the remains of the glowing
sunset, which were paling fast.
"Why hasn't he been to see me all these hours?" he muttered. "He must
know how dreary it is up here. He ought to have come. Books," he
muttered, as he glanced sharply round, his eyes lighting for a moment
upon one that lay open upon a chair; "I couldn't read when it was all
bright and light, and even if I could force myself to now, it will soon
be dark. It was enough to make me angry and bang one book down, and
throw the other in the corner. Hasn't he any brains? To pick out such
books as those--escapes from prison. Oh, how I should like to escape
from mine and get into the woods! He promised to take me. But, of
course, I would come back. I wouldn't have Waller think me ungrateful
for the world. I can't help liking him very much; but he'd think it
silly if I told him I did. He won't take me out to-night. He'd say
again that it wasn't safe while the soldiers were about; and I suppose
he's right. Oh, how miserable it is! I daren't even look out of the
window for fear of being seen by the servants or the gardener. Well, it
will soon be dark, and then I can stare out at the stars. I wonder
whether father got away, and what he thinks about me. Let's see, how
did that fellow escape?" he added, after an interval, during which dark
clouds were sweeping up from the west, and the room seemed to fill with
gloom. "Let's see, he made himself a rope."
A rope!
The lad sprang from his seat with the alacrity of a wild animal, for the
very mention of a rope gave full play to his imagination, and sent him
hurrying to and fro to the full extent of what he looked upon as his
cage.
The next moment he was down upon his knees dragging out one of the
drawers which contained his young host's treasures. In an instant the
great tangle of fine meshes, pike-shaped leads, and strung-together
corks was thrust on one side, while, with a faint sigh of exultation,
the prisoner drew out the coil of light brown, pleasant-smelling, firmly
twisted hemp that had been intended to form the new drag-rope of the
net.
"Hah!" panted the lad, as he threw the coil like a great quoit upon the
quilt, and then thrust in the drawer.
The next minute he was seated upon the edge of the bed with the rope in
his lap, and busily untying the string that, in three places, secured it
in shape, for it was brand new, just as it had come from the ship
chandler's in Southampton City.
This was soon done, the stiff rope beginning to expand its rings as if
it were some live serpent-like creature eager to escape from its bonds.
But Godfrey Boyne paid no heed to this, not even once thinking of
coiling it up again and replacing it in the drawer, for, as he thought
hard, breathed hard, and felt his spirits expanding like the rope at the
thoughts of being free, he saw in imagination the deep dark forest
glades, felt the mossy, springy turf beneath his feet, and gave way to
that strange half-wild excitement which comes at times upon a boy, and
sets him bounding off like some wild creature of the plains, to run, and
run, and run onward for no reason at all, until he is forced to stop for
want of breath.
"Oh, yes," he muttered, "I can fasten it to that beam, slide down, have
my run, and get back again without Waller knowing; and I will. No one
shall see me. I'll take care of that."
The thought of being at last in action sent a thrill through the lad's
breast, as if he had taken some powerful tonic, while, as if Nature was
completely transforming him, he sprang up again, laying the cord upon
the bed, and began to pace the sloping-ceiled room once more.
It seemed as if Nature were favouring him further, for the darkness came
on like magic till there was quite obscurity enough to favour his
designs, and, going straight to the window he thrust out his head.
"He will not be up till after he has had his supper, and I could have a
couple of hours' run before then," thought the boy; and, leaning out, he
plunged his hands into the thick ivy.
"What do I want with a rope?" he muttered. "I could climb down here by
holding on to these tough stems. Any of these are strong enough to bear
me, and--"
_Crack_!
The tuft of green growth he was holding and involuntarily pressing hard,
snapped off short and fell to the ground, rustling softly as it passed
over the projecting strands.
Godfrey Boyne shook his head and laughed.
"I should get down quickly enough," he said to himself, "but what about
getting back?"
Drawing in his head, he felt for--as it was getting very dark--one end
of the thin rope, and then, mounting a stool, he passed the strong
hempen twist over the beam, which just allowed room for it to pass,
knotted the end, made a slip noose, drew it tight, and then, feeling for
the other end of the coil, he began to run it out through the open
dormer, listening with wild exultation to the passage of this narrow
high-road to liberty over the rustling ivy.
It was all excitement now. There was no room for hesitation, as,
passing one leg out of the window, holding on to the centre support the
while, he drew out the other, lowered himself a little, reaching out
with his feet so as to get them beyond the stone gutter below, and then,
seizing the rope, he twined one leg round it and began to let himself
slide.
But it was not done without noise. The twigs of ivy, as he passed over
and through them, crackled and snapped; while, as he slid down more and
more, and the projecting gutter held the rope out clear, he began to
perform evolutions like those of a leg of mutton, pendent from a
roasting-jack, the rope displaying more and more desire to untwine.
Gripping it tightly, and using his other leg as a break against further
descent, Godfrey stopped short to listen, and as he did so he suffered
from a catching of the breath, for all at once he heard a sound from
within the house, the ivy on a level with his face became illuminated,
and a candle was carried past the window of the room by which he swung.
He had a glimpse of a woman's face, and as he felt convinced by the
gleam of her eyes that she must see him, the light grew less, and was
gone.
The next minute the lad, after a few more evolutions that threatened to
make him giddy, felt his feet touch the soft earth of a flower-bed, from
which he swung himself on to the lawn, and was feeling about for the
loose rope finding that there were at least twenty yards lying about
amongst the shrubs.
These he gathered together into one spot, and, with a feeling of
exultation growing in his sense of freedom, he gave a sharp glance
through the darkness to right and left, and then, making for the
carriage-drive, whose position he fully knew now, he strode off rapidly
and silently in the direction of one of the forest paths which led
towards the little village; but of this fact he was naturally unaware.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
AN ADVENTURE.
Godfrey Boyne, consequent upon the darkness, was forced to keep to the
well-beaten road; but it was grand. He breathed freely; there was a
feeling of exultation to make his chest expand; his nostrils quivered
with the delight he felt; and from time to time he checked his strong
desire to run, and stopped to listen to the sounds that arrested his
attention on either side--sometimes soft and mysterious, sometimes
startling.
There was the low rustling amongst last year's leaves as some mouse was
busy. Then the faint trickling of a worm struggling with a strand which
it was fighting hard to drag into its hole.
A little farther on he was startled by a sudden rush as something
bounded away from close to his feet; and, as he stood breathing hard, he
could hear it go on _pat, pat, pat, pat_, right away, till the sounds
died out.
He knew it was a rabbit, but the suddenness made his heart beat faster
all the same.
Then he was off again, to startle--as he had been startled himself--a
blackbird or thrush suddenly awakened from its roost, or hear the loud
flapping of a wood-pigeon beating through the trees overhead.
There were other sounds, too, to which he could not give a name. But it
was all dark, mysterious, and delightful, as he went on cautiously lest
he should lose touch of the road, and find difficulty in getting back.
How long this lasted, or how far he had gone, was driven, out of his
mind soon after, when he came to a sudden turn in the wood where
something dimly seen glided by him, close to his face, uttering a most
unearthly shriek which, to use the common expression, brought his heart
to his mouth and seemed to fix his feet to the ground.
Then it was gone, gliding away upon silent wing, and he had sufficient
commonsense to attribute the sound to a screech-owl.
"Not one of those," he muttered, "that hoot and shout and answer one
another as they fly round the house at night. There," he said, with a
sigh, "I won't stop any longer. I don't know how long I have been, but
I don't want Waller to find me out. He wouldn't like it; and it doesn't
seem right."
He stopped, hesitating now, the incident of the passing owl that he had
come upon, and startled into uttering its shriek of dread on finding
itself suddenly in such close contact with its great enemy, man, having
confused him a little as to his direction, and it was some moments
before he was sure of his road.
But he was taking the right course, and, feeling more himself, less
morbid and nervous, refreshed as he was by the exercise, interest, and
pure fresh air, he reached the gate at the end of the drive, passed on
up into the grounds and, during the latter part of his return journey,
was guided by the light in the porch and in the dining-room window.
"It was all so easy," he said to himself, "and I could do it again at
any time. But no; I won't. I won't give way to those feelings. It's
ungenerous to Waller, and he is such a good fellow. I am sure he likes
me, and I want to be grateful and like him too. If he found me out I
should lose his respect and confidence."
These were the lad's last thoughts in this direction, for he had reached
the lawn, over which he passed lightly, and began feeling about for the
rope.
Then his heart seemed to stand still, and a choking feeling assailed
him, for the rope was gone--only for a few moments, for as he roused
himself to action, and mastered his feeling of dismay, he awoke to the
fact that he was feeling beneath the wrong window. Then a few yards to
his right his searching hand came in contact with the firm twisted cord,
which he grasped with both hands as high up as he could reach, drew up
his legs to get the rope twisted round, and then began to--climb? No--
gently swing to and fro. It was a very pleasant motion as he brushed
against the shrubs and once bumped up against the sill of one of the
lower windows, but it was not what he wanted.
For the first time in his life he was realising that, though it is very
easy to slide down a rope, it is quite a gymnastic feat, only to be
mastered by long practice, to climb up a cord that is comparatively
slight.
"Oh, why didn't I remember to make a knot at every foot?" thought the
lad, as he severely abused himself for his folly and ignorance during
the intervals of struggling hard to get, if only a few feet up, towards
the window, but toiling in vain and only growing hotter and more
exhausted in spite of all.
He rested for a while, and once more tried, rested, and tried again, and
at last, utterly fagged out, he gave up in despair.
He was so wearied out that, still holding by the rope, he sank upon his
knees amongst the shrubs that dotted the broad bed beneath the windows,
and even when his breath was coming easily once more, and the hot
burning pain in his chest had subsided, the spirit to make another
attempt was wanting, and, with a feeling of despair increasing, he began
to plan what he should do till morning--whether he could get round to
the back and find an entrance to the stables and pass the night in a
loft, so as to try and steal in some time in the morning, and reach the
attic unseen.
"But Waller will be going up and finding that I am gone," he thought.
"He will see the rope hanging out of the window, and--Oh, what an idiot
I have been! If I had only waited and been patient for another day or
two, perhaps--" He stopped short, for he was conscious of what sounded
like a deep sigh close at hand, then of a heavy stertorous breathing,
and, dimly seen, not a couple of yards away, he made out the shape of a
big, heavy, stooping man, passing over the lawn very slowly, and as if
looking for him. For that was the only interpretation that he could
place upon the man's movements.
It was not Waller, nor the gardener, for certain; but who it could be,
in his excitement, he could not hazard a conjecture. He himself was
fugitive and spy, and the only interpretation natural was that this man
was hunting for him, and he was lost.
So startled was the boy by the adventure, so exhausted by what he had
gone through, that it never occurred to him to make a dash for liberty.
He crouched there, literally paralysed, and for the moment he could not
believe it true that, due to his silence and position, he was unseen,
and the man had passed away into the darkness, and his heavy panting
breath had died away. In the reaction came the thought of what he ought
to do, and with it the wonder that it had not occurred to him before.
Pausing a few brief moments to make sure that he was quite alone,
Godfrey rose from his crouching position, and, with the rope gliding
through his hand, he stepped outward on to the lawn at right-angles to
the front of the house, to feel the next minute the sharp needles of the
big fir-tree brushing his face and making a crickling, crackling noise
as the rope, which passed through his hands, rustled among the boughs.