"The de'ils ha been quick about it," muttered Sandy; "and they've gone
through the libr'y window, while, if that door I broke open has been
mended again, it's a strange thing to me. What shall I do?--ring them
all up? No," he said, after a pause; "then perhaps we shouldn't catch
them, for before I could get round again from the bell, they'd have
slipped out of the window. No, we must catch them, for it strikes me
verra strongly that if this is Mr Jock Gurdon, I should like to see him
transported to the other side of the watter."
For a few moments Sandy McCray stood thoughtful and puzzling what to do.
He could easily have alarmed the burglars, for such they evidently
were; but then that was not sufficient--there must be a capture made.
But suddenly a bright thought struck him--he would run round to the
butler's pantry, and try and rouse whoever slept there. But did any one
sleep there? Gurdon's place had never been filled up, and it was most
likely that the footman and under-butler still kept their places in the
hall.
"I have it," muttered Sandy, at last; and setting off across the lawn at
a brisk trot, he made his way to the kitchen-garden, but what he sought
was not there, of course not: it was round by the potting shed, he
recollected then; and on cautiously proceeding there, he picked up from
where it lay beside a wall a twenty-round light garden ladder, and set
off with it to the front of the house, where he had spoken to Jane that
morning.
"One--two--three--four; that's the window," muttered Sandy, and the next
instant, exerting his great strength, he raised the ladder and rested
the top against the window sill.
Fortunately, the window entered so quickly by the burglars was on the
other side of the house, and the gardener was able to take his steps for
giving an alarm unheard by them.
"Gude save us!" he muttered, climbing up. "I hope he winna shute me!"
The next minute he listened attentively, and then gave three sharp taps
upon one pane, followed by two other similar signals, ere the blind was
dragged back, the window thrown open, and Sir Murray's hands were
tightly grasping his throat.
"Hoot awa' Sir Mooray, and tak' awa' ye're hands from a man's weam."
"Hand over the letter, you scoundrel, or I'll hurl you down!" exclaimed
Sir Murray, through his teeth.
"The duel's been sleeping in his clothes, and gone half daft," muttered
Sandy. And then, in a whisper: "Let me in, Sir Mooray, and look sharp,
for there are burglars in the house!"
The gardener's announcement seemed to bring his master to his right
senses, and, loosing his hold, Sandy stepped lightly into the chamber.
"You'll just have a pair of pistols, or dirk, or something, Sir Mooray,"
said the man.
His master stepped to a drawer, and drew out a small double-barrelled
pair, examined the nipples to see if they were capped, and then handed
one to his servant, but the latter shook his head.
"Na--na," he said; "I might be blowing his brains out with the thing,
and I dinna wush that. I'll take the poker, Sir Mooray; and now, if
ye're ready, the sooner we're at them the better."
"Ring the alarm-bell!" said Murray.
"Nay, nay, gude sir; let's take them ourselves. Stop the hole up where
they come in, and then we can ring if ye like; but while we're ringing
bells they'll be off, and only to come again."
Giving up the leadership to his servant, Sir Murray followed him into
the corridor, and from thence to the grand staircase, but all was still.
Hastily descending to the library, the unrepaired door was found--like
the window--wide open, when Sandy's first step was to close both
carefully, and then rejoin his master.
"Heard anything, sir?" he whispered.
"Not a sound," said Sir Murray, hoarsely; "but, do you think they are
burglars? Stay here an instant, while I ascend to her ladyship's room,"
he said, hurriedly, as a thought--a base, suspicious thought of a
meditated elopement--crossed his mind. "They may have gone that way."
"Hoot, mon, stay where ye are," whispered Sandy. "D'ye hear that?
They're packing up the plate, and--hist! look there," he said, in a low
tone, as a faint light shone in the distance on their right, making
plain the face of a man standing in the second of the suite of
drawing-rooms, the doors of which had been set wide open.
Sandy recognised the face at the same instant as Sir Murray, and the
same name rose to their lips, McCray muttering fiercely:
"Stop ye here, Sir Mooray, and lay hold of the de'ils taking the plate.
They winna face yer pistols. I'll deal with this one."
Thrusting his master aside, McCray stepped lightly over the soft
carpets, followed for a few seconds by the baronet's eyes, but the light
then faded away, and as Sir Murray stood, now breathing hard and
excited, as he felt that it was indeed a burglary in progress, he heard
a muttered oath, the crashing over of a set of fire-irons, the heavy
sounds of blows, and knocking down of furniture, followed directly after
by a rapid rush, and he felt himself dashed to the ground, one pistol
exploding as he fell; but he was up again the next moment, to be knocked
down with greater violence than before, as a Scotch oath rang in his
ear; and then, at the same instant, there was a crash and splintering of
glass, and as he rose to his feet, he became aware that those who had
knocked him down had gone through the library and leapt boldly through
the closed window, the night wind now coming with a loud sigh through
the shivered panes.
"The scoundrel has escaped, and the other gone in pursuit," muttered Sir
Murray, just as loud shrieks for help were heard from above-stairs,
followed by the loud ringing of the alarm-bell.
The next minute lights were held over the balustrade, and timid faces
were seen, gazing down; but the lights also revealed to Sir Murray's
gaze the crape-veiled features of two men, each bearing a bag, which
now, upon finding that they were discovered, they dropped, with a loud,
jingling noise, upon the stone floor--a sound which told plainly enough
of their contents.
"Stand!" cried Sir Murray, as they turned to flee down the long passage
up which they had come--a passage leading to the pantry--"stand, or I
fire! I cannot miss you at this distance!"
One of the men uttered an oath, in his rage, for now a light appeared at
the other end of the passage, showing a footman, armed with a
blunderbuss, which seemed to alarm him as much as it did the burglars.
"It's no go," muttered one of the men. "Stow that, gov'nor, and I'll
give up. Come on, Joe."
"Not I," exclaimed the other, making a spring to get by Sir Murray, but
in vain: true to his word, the baronet fired, and with a shriek of
agony, the man sprang into the air, and then fell heavily upon the stone
floor, which was soon stained with his blood.
"Why didn't you give up, then, like a man?" whined his sympathising
companion, who was now hastily secured by two of the men-servants. "The
gent wouldn't have hurt yer, if yer had only give up when he arst.
There, don't pull a cove about like that, and yer needn't tie so tight.
I ain't agoin' to run away so as to get shot, I can tell you."
"Lift the other up," said Sir Murray, hoarsely; when the man was found
to be bleeding profusely, though evidently not wounded in a vital spot.
"You are not hurt, Murray?" whispered a voice at his ear just then, and
the baronet turned to find Lady Gernon anxiously scanning his face.
"No; not dead yet," he said, brutally. "Go to your own room."
Lady Gernon turned away with a weary sigh, and Sir Murray stood guard
over his prisoners, when a shudder of terror ran through the party
assembled; for, faintly heard, apparently from somewhere in the grounds,
came what sounded like a wild appeal for help.
Book 1, Chapter XXVIII.