OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN
I don't wish to dwell on the suffering and despair of the next few
days. The mere physical distress was bad enough, but looking back I
hardly seem to remember the daily flogging, nor the cold and damp of
the bare brick cell, nor my stiffness of body when I awoke in the dark
not knowing whether it were morning yet or still night-time, nor the
hunger gnawing within me, half famished as I was on the starvation
diet. These things have only left a blurred impression on my memory,
though the anguish at the time was cruel enough. But what I do remember
vividly, as though the agony of it were still with me, is the crying
pain at my heart, knowing my father wanted me, had sent for me, and
like a fool I wasn't ready for him, had indeed by my imbecile conduct
failed him at his need. This was the thought that stung me more than
the birch and the shivering cold and the biting hunger: my father
needed me, and I had failed him.
How long I was kept in captivity I didn't reckon up. It seemed endless,
and with no hope of freedom beyond. When Staggers brought me my first
meal I did indeed ask him how many days there were to May-day, but he
merely snarled at me, and kicked me where I lay with the chains about
my wrists. For by now I was considered dangerous. Some while since
I had been deprived of my knife, and of course when I was stripped
for flogging my pistol was found on me. One who could run away from
school and hide a week or more in the neighbourhood without discovery,
and who, moreover, was found at last with a loaded pistol beneath his
cloak, wasn't to be treated as an ordinary mischief-maker. Though
locked and bolted into my cell it was deemed necessary to chain me up
also.
Repeatedly I was bidden to declare where I had been hiding, but my
courage was firm enough to prevent me from betraying the Captain. It
seemed a mystery to my captors where I could have obtained food and
shelter all this while. Eventually it was assumed that I had robbed at
the pistol mouth; and had there been any robberies during my absence
doubtless I should have been held responsible for them. However,
though no robberies could be discovered, I was well flogged on the
understanding that they had nevertheless been committed. For otherwise
how had I supported myself?
But all this I wish to pass over. It was miserable while it lasted,
and it helped to harden something within me which was gradually taking
stock of the ways of the world, appraising them or condemning them
according to my own sense of the just and the fitting without reference
to the standards I found set up about me.
It was one evening, as I knew, not by the darkness about me, for it was
always dark, but by the fact that some time since I had had my second
meal, when the door of my cell opened, and the clatter of a mug on the
brick floor told me that my last meal for the day had come. I didn't
move, for hungry as I was the mouldy crust and water didn't rouse my
appetite. But I was surprised at the unaccustomed striking of a light.
So used had I grown to the darkness that I couldn't keep my eyes open,
but screwed them up painfully against the dazzling glare. But little
by little blinking them open again, at last I could just bear to look
about me. I saw Worthing holding up a lantern, and gazing down at me.
I was more surprised than I could express. I couldn't even utter his
name, but lay there gaping stupidly, and wondering if it were merely a
vision.
Presently he spoke, coldly I thought, but deliberately, as though each
word was of importance.
"If you have quite recovered yourself," he said, "just listen to me.
You haven't too much time. First here's a file for those chains. You
must work the thing yourself as well as you can. Then here are your
knife and pistol. I shall leave the door unlocked. I think you'll know
what to do. Good-bye."
He was going; but I gasped out his name, and he turned.
"Well?" he asked.
"But tell me," I said, "what does it mean?"
"No time," he replied.
"But you must, you _must_," I implored.
He was silent a minute or two as though wondering how best to explain
the mystery. Then he said icily, "It's pretty simple, Tommy. It means
just this, that I'm a thief and a liar." And again he was at the door.
But I broke out, struggling at my chains, "Oh, Worthing, my best
friend, don't go like this. You've done something terrible for me. What
is it? What is it?"
"Why," he answered in the same bitter tone, "I've broken my trust,
that's all. The Doctor trusted me, and I stole your knife and pistol.
Staggers trusted me, because he wanted the evening out, and I've
brought you a file and unlocked the door. Good-bye."
"Worthing!" I called after him.
"For God's sake don't shout like that," he cut in.
"Look here," I said more calmly, "you must forgive me. I called you a
coward. I didn't mean it."
"And I called you a fool, and I did mean it," he said shortly, and was
gone. He came back to say, "You have just a week," and left me.
For a moment I lay motionless, wondering whether I ought to take
advantage of the liberty he had brought me. But I knew it was too late
now for such a scruple. If I had meant to refuse his gift I should
have done so before I let him go. In fact I realized now there were
many things I should have done before I let him go. If I couldn't have
persuaded him to take back his gift, at least I should have pressed him
to fly with me; for something of what lay in store for him when his
deed was discovered I could faintly guess. But with a shrug I dismissed
the thought. Since he had gone there was nothing left for me to do but
to make the best use of the chance he had given me, for to fail now
would but double his disgrace.
I set to work with the file, for my chains were long enough to permit
of that. But the labour was tedious, and many times I rested almost
exhausted with the ceaseless fretting, my fingers rubbed and bleeding
and so tender that even to hold the tool was an agony. But I knew the
work must be done, and at last crying with pain I had filed through the
links, and rose to my feet sore and stiff, but free.
Very lovingly I handled my knife and pistol, and secreted them ready
for use, for I was determined to fight my way through rather than be
dragged to prison again. The door creaked and groaned as I slowly swung
it open, having first put out the lantern lest its light should betray
me. But the passage was deserted, and at the end was a narrow flight
of stone steps up which I crept. At the top was a door which yielded
to my pressure, for Worthing had left it unlocked, though the key was
in its place on the other side. As I passed through, in front of me a
few paces away was a side door that gave on to the street. I was about
to open it when I heard a heavy tread without, and the door opened in
upon me. I flattened myself against the wall, and peeping round could
just make out the figure of Staggers, unsteady from some late debauch,
reeling through. He turned to close the door, drawing the key from the
outside of the lock. I feared I should be discovered, in spite of the
dark, for in his drunken state he might easily lay his hand upon me.
Moreover, he would probably lock the door, if he could manage to fit
the key into the hole, and then pocket the key; and escape would then
be more precarious, as I would have to go by the front entrance where
the doorkeeper might hear me.
Quickly I made up my mind what to do. I could see Staggers stupidly
lurching as he fumbled at the lock. I jerked open the door behind me,
and throwing my full weight upon Staggers sent him toppling backwards
through the doorway and bundling down the stairs; and as his body
thumped and tumbled below me, I flung to the door and locked it; then
turned and escaped into the night.
For a while I fled as though in a panic; then finding myself clear of
the village I rested to recover my breath. What was I to do? Where was
I to go? Should I press straight on as far as I could? But I became
aware of a tiredness and stiffness of my whole body. I had been starved
and tortured, and would probably collapse if I tried to go far without
food. So I decided to make for Sunset Towers. I could hide there for
the next day while the hunt was out. The Captain wouldn't give me
up even if enquiries were made for me there. So I set off again, so
weary that even the few miles ahead seemed a year's journey. But the
thought of Staggers locked for the night in his own prison brought me
wonderful consolation. I only hoped he wasn't too drunk to taste to
the full the evil horrors of darkness.
I didn't realize till I rose again and started on my way how much I
had had to endure during those few days in the cell. The short rest by
the road-side left every muscle stiffened as though run into a mould
and set. And with the friction of my clothes the wounds across my back
were chafed into an agonizing tenderness, so that with stiffness and
soreness every step was a double torment. I was weak and exhausted
too from want of food, and I yearned to lie down on the heath and
rest again; but I dared not. I knew my stiffness would increase upon
me tenfold, and I feared lest sleep should overtake me. And with that
thought I hurried forwards, for I knew if I fell asleep I should
be found by the officers, and I shuddered with naked terror at the
possibility of being recaptured and haled back to torture. The new
taste of freedom, with the prospect of the _Dolphin_ and my father only
a week's tramp away, set the dread of imprisonment in black relief,
till the fear of it became a haunting terror at my heels to spur me
forward in spite of aches and pains. So I stepped on as swiftly as I
could, crying with the agony of the rough clothes against my raw back,
for indeed they seemed like rasps grating at my very bones.
Before I reached Sunset Towers I was alarmed to see the east growing
white with the morning. I hadn't realized what a time I had spent
filing through my chains, nor indeed how laggingly I had crept the few
miles from Rancey Bridge. For I was staggering now in a crazy zigzag,
unconscious of everything except the goal before me and the need to
reach it without delay.
At last I touched the gate, where for a moment I leant against the
post swaying dizzily, then with an effort passed on again for the last
few steps, instinctively making for Jenny's window. And there indeed
my strength failed me. I fell to the earth clutching at the ivy, and
calling with what voice I could summon, "Jenny, Jenny, come and let me
in."
I sank on the ground and waited, so weary that almost with the uttering
of my cry for help I would have been asleep. But Jenny had heard me.
The window was flung up, and she called quietly down, "Tommy, is that
you?"
"Jenny," I said, but couldn't speak another word.
Her instinct must have told her I was at my last gasp, for she didn't
stay to question me. In a moment she was out of the house and at my
side, and her firm little arms were about me helping me to stand, and
leaning on her heavily I managed to totter in and collapsed on a chair
in the dining-room beside the empty grate.
After this things passed in a maze for some while. Jenny must have
brought me some food and wine, and somehow supported me up the stairs
to her room; for presently I found myself lying snugly in bed, and with
the fading vision of her face bent above me sank into a wonderful sleep.
There was nothing more the matter with me than exhaustion, for when I
awoke later in the day, though I still felt stiff and somewhat shaky
about the head, yet I had lost the stupid sense of weakness which
had sent me tottering down the road from Rancey Bridge. My strength
had returned to me, and even the soreness had gone from my back. But
putting my hand to the place I discovered why; it was swathed in
comfortable bandages.
At the movement Jenny was at my side, and I put out my hand to her.
"Better, Tommy?" she asked in a voice of such concern that I
didn't know whether to laugh or cry, for there was something so
disconcertingly touching in her wide anxious eyes, usually so fierce,
that I felt a strange emotion shake me. I couldn't decide whether it
was pleasant or painful; but as I lay there and felt her little fingers
about my brow there seemed to be something very wonderful about it all.
For I had no desire to get strong and well again if I might have Jenny
to tend and comfort me like this.
But the weakness was only momentary, for I felt a sudden shame at the
unmanly sentiment; and putting Jenny's hands aside, rather roughly I'm
afraid, I sat up and said, "There, that's enough." I jumped out of
bed, pretending to feel nothing of my aches and soreness, though still
acutely conscious of them.
Jenny fell back with a little "Oh!" and her eyes grew harder.
Perhaps I felt a slight compunction at having so churlishly repaid
her care and tenderness, but that unpleasant sense of shame at having
yielded to a weak and babyish emotion wouldn't let me tell her how
dearly I held her. But it pained me to see her standing away from me,
surveying me gloomily, stroking her hands together as though I had hurt
them. I wanted to say something to set all right again, but all I could
say was, "I must be quick, Jenny." I began pulling on my clothes, for
some one had undressed me.
Then she smiled at me, and I felt relieved; for there had seemed for a
moment the menace of thunder in the air, but now I knew the storm had
blown over.
"Let me help you," she said, as I struggled against my stiffness,
reaching round for the sleeve of my jacket. And soon I was dressed and
armed again, and felt like a man.
I took a turn up and down the room to reassure myself that I was indeed
master of my faculties; and then would have opened the door and gone
downstairs. But Jenny stopped me, saying, "You can't go yet, Tommy."
She gripped my arm and pulled me back.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Not yet," was all she answered.
"But why?" I pressed in growing surprise.
She watched me silently for a moment or two, then said, "Well, I'll
tell you, Tommy. You see.... But are you hungry?" she broke off.
The sudden question seemed to create as sudden an appetite. I said I
was, very hungry. She told me to stay there, and cautiously left the
room, and after a while came tripping lightly back with half a meat pie
and a bottle of wine under her arm.
"There," she said, laying down the spoils, "I'll tell you while you
eat." So I set to with a relish, while Jenny told me the story of the
day's happenings.
Firstly, it seems, Worthing had arrived the day before and had told the
Captain, who had been fretting at my sudden disappearance, the cause of
it; and he had gone to Rancey Bridge to enquire into the matter. That
had given the authorities the information they had been wanting; but in
spite of the Captain's appeals they wouldn't release me. However, he
had made a fresh attempt that morning, and there had been a splendid
battle; but again he had failed to recover me. Then shortly after he
had left the school my flight must have been discovered, as it would
have been earlier had not Staggers been imprisoned and so unable to
report my escape. What had happened to Worthing I could only surmise,
for Jenny said nothing of the matter, and listening to her story I had
little leisure to think deeply of his case. I suffered a passing pang
on his account, and forgot him.
Jenny had been alarmed to see her father returning in a terrified
state; and rushing up the stairs he had vanished into his room where
he had locked himself in muttering, "The officers! the officers!" It
must have been almost immediately after his visit that my escape was
discovered, and the officers had followed straight away on his track
expecting to find me at his house. I didn't trouble to question exactly
why he had been terrified; I was anxious to know what had happened to
the officers. Evidently they had been met at the door by the impassive
Abou, and quietly hushed away.
Meanwhile Jenny had kept my presence in her room a profound secret.
That had been her little romance, and she had wanted it all to herself.
So I must wait, she told me, till the night came, and then I could
escape in safety.
I think her story and my meal ended simultaneously, for as I pushed
away my plate, licking in the clinging fragments from my lips, she
sat down beside me with a plump of her little body, and said, "There,
Tommy; and I watched you sleep, oh, so long. But I like to see your
eyes."
Again I felt that unpleasant and unaccountable awkwardness, and
sniggered rather stupidly. Jenny relieved the situation by exclaiming
suddenly, "I don't hate Worthing any more."
"Ah, Worthing!" I ejaculated; and again I was wrung with doubt as to
what had happened to him when my escape had become known. Had he first
made good his own retreat? Somehow I didn't think so. It wasn't like
Worthing to run away. Well, they would have little mercy on him.
"He told me, Tommy," Jenny went on with hesitation, and finished, "what
you wouldn't tell me."
"Ah," I said.
Then she suddenly sprang up, her eyes blazing, her fists clenched in
the manner I knew well, and said with fierce vigour, "Yes, I know what
they did to you. And I've seen too. I hate them. Oh, how I _hate_ them!"
"It's their way," I said.
"But they won't catch you again, will they, Tommy?" She put her hands
on my shoulders and said, "Promise?" as I had heard her say it twice
before.
I laughed, and answered, "It won't be my fault if they do."
"Ah!..." Her hands dropped.
"And Worthing came and told you," I said; my thoughts again reverting
to my friend with his strange loyalty, sometimes so considerate,
sometimes so cruel.
Jenny answered, "He just said, 'They lock him up in a dark cell. They
give him a crust and water three times a day. And they flog him naked
every morning.' That's what he said. And he looked at me, and I could
see it."
I could hear the words as Worthing would have said them. Just the plain
facts of the case, and nothing more.
"Yes," I said, musing; then, "Well, it's over, and I shan't go back
again. And to-night I'll be off, Jenny."
She turned to a drawer and took out a bundle neatly folded and
strapped, and said, "Here's your things. There's some food. And here's
some money." She gave me a golden guinea.
"Jenny!" I exclaimed.
"You'll need it," she said simply.
"But I'll never spend it," I declared, again under the power of that
unnerving emotion. "I shall keep this as long as I live."
It was Jenny herself who dashed my ardour. "You'll keep it," she said,
"till you're hungry."
But I registered a silent vow to keep it for ever in memory of my
little playmate. I put it carefully in my inmost pocket.
And so we talked together. I told Jenny how I had escaped, and what
Worthing had done for my sake. And as I told the story I realized more
than ever the significance of the self-abnegating act. To save me he
had made himself a liar and a thief. What that must mean to one with
his passion for law and authority I could only dimly imagine. As for
me I should have been willing to perjure myself a hundred times over
for anyone I loved, but I knew by all my experience of his nature how
such guilt would rankle in Worthing's soul. He had set himself up
against the law. He had violated the ruling principle of his life.
He had swerved aside from the clear straight path he had marked out
for himself. And all to save his friend, whose conduct he had never
pretended to sympathize with or condone.
I worked myself up into a fine emotion as I spoke of all this to Jenny.
She said thoughtfully, "He loves you, Tommy; that's why."
I thought I could read in her steady eyes, "And I would have done the
same."
So the evening wore away, while the darkness closed in like a visible
shadow drawing ever nearer. And it was time for me to depart.