“You’re all patriotic Englishmen, I know. That’s why I’ve told you about M. Tissot, about what you have unwittingly got yourselves into. Well—don’t you see, here’s your chance of free pardons for anything you may have done …” Leave it as vague as possible, pretend to know nothing of the loaded beasts that were now making their darkling way across the marsh. “The whole country is invasion mad—and with cause. Catch M. Tissot—a known French agent, hand him over to the authorities as publicly as possible—you’ll be the heroes of the hour—everything else forgotten. Would you be glad of a chance to turn”—what word to use? Well—chance it—“respectable?”
At least, she had made them think. They were conferring together now in voices so low that she could hear nothing, try as she would. But—she heard something else that they missed in their preoccupation. Someone was moving about, very stealthily, outside. M. Tissot himself? Madge, perhaps, or one of the gang on some nefarious purpose of his own? Or—Ross, come to look for her? Against all reason she believed this. Useless to tell herself that Ross was in France, very likely dead or in prison.… Something in her was perfectly sure that he was outside that window now, a darker shade in the darkness, looking in.
Suppose she was wrong. Suppose it was Tissot who would fling open the door any minute now. She clenched her teeth. Get it wrong and she was as good as dead. But her mind had made itself up. Resolutely, she looked away from the window, with its telltale flicker of movement, lest her eyes should draw someone else’s to it.
The conference in the corner was growing more heated. Voices rose. “Too dangerous,” said one. “She knows me,” growled Pete. So much for Madge’s little inn on the London road. They were advancing on her now; she rose to her feet to meet them.
“I’m sorry.” The one who acted the leader sounded as if he might even mean it “You must see that you know too much.”
“Nothing I can’t forget” Play it out to the last moment, keep their attention on her and believe … believe with all her heart that Ross was outside, waiting the moment to burst in. No hope, judging by the slow, reluctant advance upon her, but in him.
“An accident,” said the leader. “One of the gravel pits. So—handle her carefully.” Again that note of regret, almost of apology. “We’ll make it quick.” They were all around her now, and she could smell fatigue and fear, sour from their bodies. One of them caught her hands and twisted them expertly behind her back. “Drowning,” said the leader. “A bucketful of water. Quick.”
If she could only see their eyes. Something inhuman about these masked faces made appealing to them doubly hard. “It’s all true, what I’ve told you.” She kept her voice steady. “Word of a Tretteign. I’m giving you the chance of your lives. You’re fools if you let it slip.”
‘Then—we’re fools.” It was final. “Quick, you.”
Movement behind her. The bucket of water? With a sudden wrench she pulled free of the hands that held her, stood clear and stared them down with huge, contemptuous eyes. “Fools!” She spat it at them. “And murderers. Who shall have the privilege of drowning me? I’ll not make it easy for you, I promise. I’ll make it something you’ll remember as long as you live. We Tretteigns walk, you know. One of us haunts the Dark House already. I shall walk always beside you, reminding you of the chance I gave you, that you had not the wits to take. Your hands will tremble, you’ll remember me and miss your aim when you most need to be steady. Then you’ll know I am there, with the curse of the Tretteigns upon you.”
“Damn you.” For a moment, she had shaken them, but she had also made them angry enough to kill. She could see it in the way they moved forward.
Glass crashed behind her. “Very still, all of you.” Ross’s voice. “I’ll shoot the first man who moves. Quick, Chris, here to me.”
She was there already, where he leaned in through the window that was too small for him to pass. “Take the pistol from my belt. Steady now.” He had felt her tremble, but could not know that it was less from fear than from the electric shock of his touch. “Don’t get between me and them. I thought you’d never give me a clear line of fire. That’s it.” She had done as he told her. “Now, you cover those two.”
“Yes.” She had the gun cocked and ready in a hand as firm as his own.
“My cousin’s as good a shot as I am.” His voice controlled a little ripple of movement in the room. “I’d go on keeping still, if I were you.”
“That’s all very fine.” The leader was standing rigid where Ross’s voice had halted him. “But you know you can’t get her out of here.”
It was all too evidently true. To get to the door, Christina would have to move between Ross and the smugglers. They would have her instantly as a hostage.
“No,” Ross said cheerfully. “It’s too bad, isn’t it? I can really see no alternative to shooting the lot of you. Unless, perhap, you can suggest one? I find myself less cold-blooded than you. I don’t mind letting you live, if you can show me how I can safely do so.”
“Be damned to you!” As the leader sprang forward, Christina shot him in the leg.
“Admirable.” Not a tone’s difference in Ross’s voice. “I’ll cover the rest of them, Chris, while you reload. And now, my friends, I hope you see that we mean what we say. There are only three of you now, to all intents and purposes. Do you want to go on till there is only one?”
“Let them go, I say.” This was Pete. “You wouldn’t really hurt us, Mr, Ross? I never wanted to harm her, I promise I didn’t.”
“No? You just went with the crowd?” His voice was deadly. “Then you can go with the crowd now.” He was taking aim.
“No, Ross, wait.” Christina kept her steady aim fixed on the man who had fallen to her share. “His wife’s been good to me. I’d like to spare him, if you think we can.”
“Do you hear her?” Ross spoke directly to Pete. “You were fetching a bucket of water to drown her, like a sick kitten, and she would like to spare you. Well—will you make it possible for us?”
“God, yes. What must I do?”
“Tie up your friends. Then we can talk.” And, when Pete hesitated for a moment. “Or be shot, all of you, as your leader has. He looks as if he could do with some help, by the way. He’s bleeding fast If you care.”
“I care about myself.” Pete again.
“Good. Then move forward, take the rope that lies so conveniently ready on the table—for you, I suppose, Chris?—and tie them carefully. Very carefully. Remember, we are watching.”
The others swore at Pete horribly as he went to work, and Chris, watching, thought that poor Madge would need to go farther than London if she was to be safe in her little inn. “Don’t worry, Pete,” she said. “You shall go to America, you and your family. You’ll not regret this day’s work, I promise.”
Beside her, Ross laughed. “You’re incorrigible, Chris. Think about yourself, for a change. As for these curs, I like your plan for them best”
“Mine?”
“I’ve been listening for some time, waiting my chance. You’re right, of course. They’re fools, and murderous ones, but they’re marshmen, for all that. And—chris—I got them into this—it’s my duty to get them out.”
“Duty of a Tretteign?” She could not keep the smile out of her voice.
“Yes, if you like. Ah, that’s better.” The two remaining masked men were now securely tied, while their leader lay on the floor, blood pouring from the wound in his leg. “Now, you”—to Pete—“sit down on that chair, your hands on the table, and listen as if your life depended on it. Which it does.”
“Yes, sir.” But his eyes kept flickering toward where Ross still leaned in at the window, as if they expected something.
“Ross! He’s watching for someone.” And then, to Pete. “You sent for M. Tissot?”
“He did.” Pete glanced toward the wounded man.
“He may be quite near,” Christina said. “And—not alone.”
“Quite so. And very convenient—for
us. Keep him covered, Chris, I’m coming in.”
Absurd to feel so bereft when the comforting warmth of his shoulder moved away from beside her. But she held her gun steady on Pete, keeping an eye at the same time on the wounded leader. “Don’t move.” She had seen him gather himself together. “I mean it.” A crash in the next room told her that Ross had burst in a window. Now he opened the door and came to stand beside her.
“So Tissot’s coming here. Very well, now’s the time to make up your minds.” He spoke to the three men impartially, ignoring their wounded leader on the floor. “Which side are you on? French or English?”
“He’s really one of their’s?” Pete was now the spokesman.
“Yes. You should have believed Miss Tretton. I can give you no better proof than she did, but I advise you to accept it. And—time’s running out. Do I tie you up too?”
“No, dammit. I’ll believe you, Mr. Ross. What do we do?”
“How soon will he be here?”
“Any moment now.”
“And how many?”
“Only two others.”
“Good. In that case I think we’ll need no help from our friends here. Help me get them out of sight, will you?” And, when they had been stowed, protesting, in the dark and noisome scullery, “Now, Chris, you’re a prisoner, remember. Sitting at the table, very despondent, with Pete guarding you. The pistol under the table where it won’t show but ready cocked. Pete, you’ll stand by to let them in and tie them up as I disarm them. And, one more thing, I promise you, word of a Tretteign, if you betray me, I’ll kill you.”
“He won’t,” said Christina. “His wife and children are upstairs. Are they safely locked in, by the way?”
“Of course. What d’you take me for?”
“A fool.” But she said it without malice.
“Hush!” Ross had already placed himself in the corner of a big cupboard where he would be invisible from the window.
“Here they come.”
No secrecy about his arrival. M. Tissot expected nothing but friends. They could hear horses ridden rapidly up to the house, a little bustle of dismounting, and then a loud knocking on the door that led directly into the kitchen.
“Don’t forget that I’ve got you covered.” Ross whispered his warning as Pete moved across the room to open the door.
In a few moments, Tissot and another man entered the room—doubtless the third would be out holding the horses. “Where are the others?” Tissot had taken in Christina’s forlorn appearance with a glance and moved forward confidently into the room.
“Where you’ll soon join them. That’s right.” Ross’s gun had sent both men’s hands automatically into the air.
“The devil! When did you get back?” You had to admire Tissot’s coolness.
“Last night. Tie them up, Pete. Obliging of you to bring horses. Do any of the rooms in this wretched house lock, Christina?”
“There’s one upstairs.” She shivered a little at the memory. “And, I suppose, the one Madge is in.”
“Yes. Fetch her, would you, and the children?”
“What about the man outside?”
“You’re right. We should deal with him first. You keep watch here while I bring him in. There must be something I can tie the horses to.”
Twenty minutes later, it was all settled. The two sets of prisoners were securely tied and deposited in separate locked rooms, with Madge downstairs as guard. Christina had offered to stay with her, since Ross refused to trust Pete so far, but he had been firm. “You’re taking no more risks tonight, Chris. I never want to go through a day like this one again. I don’t care if the whole lot of them escape, so long as I have you safe.”
“They won’t escape.” Madge had settled her two sleepy children in blankets on the floor. “I’ll kill them first.” She meant it “You’ll not forget my inn, Miss Tretton?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. I owe her my life,” she explained to Ross. “They’d have killed me when they caught me, but for her.”
“Don’t speak of it. When I got back and found you missing …” He stopped. “There’ll be time to talk of that. The question now is, how are we to get you to Trevis’s headquarters?”
“I’ll ride of course. What a fortunate thing it’s dark. You and Pete will just have to ride on ahead. This dress is past praying for anyway. Don’t look so worried. I’ve ridden astride often enough when I was a girl. I can manage.”
“I think you can do anything.” Pete was busy untying the horses and, just for a moment, they were alone together. “Chris! When I thought you dead—I wanted nothing but to die too. I’ve been—almost mad, I think, all day, looking for you from one of the smugglers’ hideouts to the next. If I’d not found you—”
“I’m very glad you did.” Pete had the horses ready now. “I would have been dead, I think, in five minutes. And drowned in a bucket, too, like that poor Duke of Clarence. Only water instead of wine. A dreary end.”
“Don’t talk about it. I don’t believe I’ll ever feel safe to let you out of my sight again.”
“That’s going to present its problems. Oh, thank you, Pete …” He had brought the smallest of the three marsh ponies for her to mount “I can manage perfectly by myself.” This to Ross, who was still close beside her.
“That’s the worst of it. I know you can. But you’re not going to, Chris. Here. Up with those skirts.” And as she obediently scooped up tattered muslin, he lifted her in strong arms that made nothing of her, and set her in the saddle. Then, instead of letting her go, he pulled her close against him. “I’ve done a lifetime’s thinking today, Chris.” Pete had gone back into the house and the two of them were alone there in the dark. “You’re what I need. You’re all I need. Be honest with me, Chris, here in the shadow of death. Tell me you feel it too. It can’t be one-sided, this passion that runs through me when I hold you thus. Admit it, Chris! Tell me it’s not.”
“Dear lunatic …” She stopped. Almost, with his arms close around her, she had poured it all out, had said, “I’ve loved you always,” but something female, something she owed to her mother, stopped the words on her tongue. “And Sophie?” She made it light, teasing.
“Sophie!” His arm, closer still around her waist, told her he knew she had yielded. “How dare you, Chris! That was a folly, a nothing.… What did you call me? Lunatic? Well, that’s about it. I was moonstruck, crazy … If you’ll just forgive me, Chris, and bear with me …”
“Well … I’ll try.” Teasing now.
“You’ll do nothing of the kind.” His arm moved up, to find her head and bring it ruthlessly down to meet his. “I’m not asking you, Chris, I’m telling you.” His lips left hers at last. “You’re mine. To hold you like this—God, Chris, if you knew what it cost me not to speak before I left for France. But I had no right.”
“And now?”
“I’m past caring. When I found you missing—thought I’d never see you again—everything was suddenly quite simple. Horribly simple. Nothing else matters, now I’ve found you. We’re part of each other, you and I. It’s a fact … there’s nothing to be done about it.”
“No?” Again she kept it light, would not let herself tell him how long she had felt this.
“Do you know”—oddly, his next words echoed her thoughts—“the strange thing is—I know now—it’s all been madness. I’ve been yours ever since that first night we met. Do you remember, Chris?”
“Of course I do. I bit you.”
“Vixen! Bite me now, if you dare.” Once again, she surrendered, was engulfed in his kiss. Emerging, shaken and with lips that hurt, she was aware for the first time of Pete, now anxiously hovering.
“Ross! Darling! We should be going.”
“My dear”—for a moment longer he held her close—“call me that, and I’ll do anything in the world—except leave you. But, you’re right. Here, Pete, my horse!”
“I’m sure I wish you very happy, the both of you.” Pete brought the third horse forw
ard. “If I’d only a’known, miss, I’d never a’let it happen—any of it. Mr. Ross’s young lady …”
Christina could not help laughing. “Madge saved me because she thought I’d start a school for her children, and Pete would have because I was your young lady, Ross. Can no one love me for myself alone?”
“No one but me, and I, poor fool, can’t help myself.”
“I said you were a lunatic. But, Ross, what are we going to do?”
“Marry.”
“Yes, love—and then?”
“Oh—I see.” He seemed to come back from a distance. “Of course, you don’t know. I came back by way of London. Ride on a little, Pete.” And then, when he was out of earshot. “I’ve done what Pitt wanted. Re-established his chain of agents and brought him news. Villeneuve will be out again any time now, but, please God, he’ll find Nelson ready for him. And—I’ve got my commission. That’s why we must be married at once. I may have to go any day.”
“Then I’ll come too.”
“What? Impossible. The ardors of a campaign—”
“Well, really, love, look at me now. Don’t you think I might be safer, with the British Army to protect me, than here on the marsh with your smuggler friends about?”
“Oh—as to them. We’re going to take care of that. Pete and his friends caught Tissot, remember.”
“Oh they did, did they? How odd, I thought it came about quite otherwise.”
“I can’t help that. Here, Pete, I want to talk to you.” And from then until they reached the army post he coached them ruthlessly in the story they were to tell. “You, of course, my love,” he concluded, “are much too gravely shaken by your experience to say anything at all. You will leave it to Pete and me.”
“Should I have a mild case of hysterics, do you think, for good measure?”
“If you do, I promise I’ll beat you, there and then. You should have seen the hysterics Sophie was having when I got to the Grange.”
“Oh dear—they must be so anxious. Let’s get home as soon as we can.”
“I promise you, love, we will.”
Watch the Wall, My Darling Page 28