by Bram Stoker
I got in the cart again and went to Cruden as hard as the mare could go. As I went, I formed my plans, and had my telegrams made up in my mind ready to write them out at once. For a while I doubted whether I should go to another telegraph office, lest the Cruden people” might come to know too much. But there was no need of concealment now. I was not afraid of any one knowing, though I determined to be discreet and secret if possible. The circuit was occupied, so I found the use of the priority telegraph forms Adams had sent me. There was not a moment lost; one was being despatched whilst I was writing the next. To Adams I said:
“They have succeeded: Wire men see me at Crom right away. Come if you can. Want all help can get. Time vital....” To Cathcart I wired at his house in Invernesshire: “ Come to me without moment’s delay. Vital. Want every kind of help.” I knew he would understand, and would come armed.
As it would be some little time before anything could be done, I determined to find Don Bernardino impossible; and induce him to show me the secret exit. Without knowledge of this we would be powerless; with it we might find some clue. I did not make up my mind as to what I would do if he refused; but to myself the instinctive grinding of my teeth, and clenching of my fingers, seemed to answer my question. Of one thing I was glad, he was a gentleman. In such a matter as that in which I was engaged, there were possibilities, if even there were not definite hope.
I drove to Ellon; and from the agent. there got his address. I soon found it; an old-fashioned house near the town, in a tiny park surrounded with great trees. I left the cart on the road, with the mare tethered to the gate post, there being no lodgekeeper or no lodge. Before I rang the hall-door bell I saw that my revolver was ready to my hand. The instant the door was opened I stepped in, and said to the old woman who opened it: “ Mr. Barnard is in the study I suppose? I have pressing business with him!” She was so taken aback by the suddenness of my entry and speech that she pointed to a door saying: “ He is in there.”
As I entered the room, closing the door behind me, the Don, who had been seated in a large chair with his back to the door turned unconcernedly. He had evidently not expected any disturbing visitor. The instant he saw me, however, he leaped to his feet, all his hostility awake. As he scanned my face his concern grew; and he glanced around, as though seeking for some weapon. I put my hand on my revolver, and said as quietly as I could, remembering his own precision of manner:
“Forgive my intrusion, Sir; but I have urgent need of speech with you.” I suppose there was something in my tone which bore home to his brain the idea that I had changed in some way since we had met. Do what I would, I could not conceal the anxiety of my voice. After a pause he said:
“Regarding the treasure?”
“No!” said I: “ Since last night I have not even given it a thought.” A strange, new look came over his face, a look in which hope and concern seemed to have equal parts. He paused again; I could see he was thinking. Mechanically I tapped my foot on the floor with impatience; the golden moments were flying by. He realised my gravity of purpose, and, manifestly turning his attention to me, said:
“Speak on Senor!” By this time I had well in my mind what I intended to say. It was not my purpose to further antagonise the Spaniard; at the outset at any rate. Later on, that might be necessary; but I should exhaust other means first.
“I have come, Sir, to ask your-aid, the help of a gentleman; and. I feel at a loss how to ask it.” Through the high-bred courtesy of the Spaniard’s manner came a note of bitterness, as he answered:
“Alas! Senor, I know the feeling. Have not I myself asked on such a plea; and stooped in vain!” I had nothing to say in reply to this, so went on:
“Sir, I am aware that you can make much sacrifice: I ask, not for myself, but for a lady in peril!” He answered quickly:
“A lady! in peril! Say on Senor! “ There was sucli hope and purpose in his quick tone that my heart instinctively leaped as I went on:
“In peril, sir; of life; of honour. To you I appeal to lay aside your feelings of hate towards me, however just they may be; and come like a true gentleman to her aid. I am emboldened to ask this because it was, I think, by your act that the peril — the immediate peril, has come ito her.” He flushed at once:
“Through me! Peril to a lady’s honour through me! Have a care, sir! Have a care! “ With a rush I went on:
“By your going into the castle through a secret passage, other enemies of the lady, low, base and unscrupulous who have been plotting to carry her off for ransom, have doubtless made an entry otherwise impossible to them. Now we must find a clue, and at once. Tell me, I implore you, of the secret way; that thus we may at once begin our search.” For a few seconds he looked me through and through; I think he suspected some plot or trap, for he said slowly:
“And the treasure; can you leave it?” I answered hotly:
“The treasure! I have not even thought of it since the news came of Marjory’s disappearance!” Here I took it that he was beginning his unscrupulous purpose, and was playing my loss against his own; and a thought came to me that had not even crossed my mind before — had he been the abductor for the purpose of just such a bargain? I took from my pocket the key of the house in Whinnyfold and held it out to him. “ Here Sir “ I said “is the key of my house. Take it with all it contains, and all it leads to! The treasure is as you left it last night; only help me in my need.”
He waved my hand aside witli an impatient gesture as he said simply:
“I do not bargain with a woman’s honour. Such comes before all the treasures of Popes or Kings; before the oath and duty of a de Escoban. Come! Senor, there is no time to lose. Let us settle this affair first; later we can arrange matters that rest between thee and me!”
“Your hand, Sir” was all I could say. “ In such trouble as mine, there is no help like that of a gentleman. But will you not honour me by keeping the key? This other is a trust which you have won by honour; as your great ancestor won his glorious duty long ago.” He did not hesitate; all he said as he took the key was: “ It is a part of my duty which I must not forego.” As we left the house he looked like a new man — a man born again; there was such joyous gladness in his face and voice and movements that I wondered. I could not help saying when we had got into the cart and were on our way:
“You seem happy, Sir. I would that I could feel the same.”
“Ah, Senor, I am happy beyond belief. I am happy as one raised from Hell to Heaven. For now my honour is no more perilled. God has been good to me to show a way, even to death, without dishonour.”
As we flew along to Crom I told him what I knew of the secret passage between the chapel and the monument. He wondered at my having discovered the secret; but when I told him of how the blackmailing gang had used the way to evade the Secret Service men, he suddenly cried out:
“There was but one who ever knew the secret of that passage; my kinsman, with whom I stayed in Crom when young, told me of him. He tried much to find the entrance to the Castle, and finally under threat he went away to America. He was a base-born and a thief. It must be he who has come back after these years and has told of the secret way. Alas! they must have watched me when I went, all unsuspicious; and so discovered the other secret.” Then he tried to explain where the entrance was. It was not in the chamber where we had expected it would be, but in a narrow corner of the. stair, the whole corner being one stone and forming the entrance.
When we arrived at Crom we found that the Secret Service men were waiting’ for me, having been instructed from London. There were also telegrams from Adams and Cathcart saying that they were on the way to join me. Adams wired from Aberdeen, and Cathcart from Kingussie. Mrs. Jack was with the detectives and had taken them through the rooms which Marjory had used. They had had up the servants one by one and examined them as to what they knew. The chief man had insisted on this; he said matters were now too serious to play the fool any longer. The servants were not told anything, even that Marjory wa
s missing; but of course they had their suspicions. A peremptory order was given that no one should leave the house without permission. The chief.. confided to me that Mrs. Jack had quite broken down when she was telling him that Marjory knew all along about the blackmailers and had never told her. “ But she’s all right now, Sir,” he concluded. “ That old lady is just full of sand; and I tell you her head is level. She’s been thinking of everything which could possibly be of use to us. I guess I have heard more of this racket within the last half hour than I have done in the last two weeks.”
By the instructions of Don Bernardino we went into the library. I asked Mrs. Jack to send for lamps and candles, and these were brought shortly. In the meantime I asked that one of the detectives should be sent into the old chapel and another to the monument on the hill. Both were warned to have their guns ready, and to allow no one to pass at any hazard. To each before going I explained the secret mode of entry.
The Don went over to one of the book-cases — the very section containing the shelf in which I had replaced the old law book. Taking out that particular volume, he put his hand in and pressed a spring. There was a faint click. He replaced the book and pressed against the bookcase with slow level pressure. Very slowly it seemed to give way before him; and then turning on a hinge at one side, left an open cavity through which a man could easily pass. I was about to rush in, and was quite ready, with a lamp in one hand and a revolver in the other, when the chief of the detectives laid a restraining hand on my arm as he said:
“Wait a moment. If you go too fast you may obliterate some sign which would give us a clue! “ The wisdom of his speech was not to be gainsaid. Instinctively I fell back; two of the trained observers drew close to the doorway, and holding their lamp in such wise as to throw light all round the opening, began an exact scrutiny. One of them knelt down and examined the flooring; the other confined his attention to roof and walls. After a silence, lasting perhaps a minute, the man kneeling stood up and said:
“Not a doubt about it! There has been a violent struggle here at the doorway!”
CHAPTER XLIV
THE VOICE IN THE DUST
O NE of the men produced his note book and began taking down in shorthand the rapid utterances of the chief, repeating it so as to check the accuracy as he went on:
“Easy to see the marks; the floor is deep in dust, and the walls are thick with it. On floor, mark of several feet — confused in struggle, may articulate separately later on — one woman’s — also trailing of long skirt. On walls marks of hands, fingers outspread, as if trying to grasp. Some of the long marks down the wall others across.” The speaker here raised his lamp and held it in the opening as far as his arm would go; then he went on:
“Steps wind downwards to right. Struggle seems to have stopped. Footmarks more clear.”... Then the chief turned to us:
“I think gentlemen, we may follow in now. The footmarks may be discriminated and identified later. We must chance destroying them, or we cannot pass in this narrow passage.” Here I spoke; a thought had been surging up in my brain ever since the detective had pointed out the finger marks on the wall “ down and across “:
“Stop a moment please! Let mesee the marks on the wall before any one enters; the passage is narrow and they may be rubbed off.” A glance was enough, just time enough to formulate which was the symbol of “a “ and which of “ b.” The perpendicular, strokes were “a” and the horizontal “b.” Marjory had kept her head, even at this trying time, and was leaving a message for me as she was forced along. I understood why the struggle had ceased. Seized and forced through the narrow doorway, she had at first struggled hard. Then, when she realised that she could leave a clue behind her, she had evidently agreed to go quietly; for so she might have her hands free. It would be a hard job to carry or force along an unwilling captive through that narrow uneven passage; doubtless the captors were as willing as she was that she should go quietly. I said to the detectives:
“These marks on the wall are in a cipher which I can read. Give me the best lamp we have, and let me go first.”
So, in an orderly procession, leaving two men in the library with Mrs. Jack to guard the entrance, we passed into the secret passage. As I read off the words written on the wall, the man with the note-book took them down, his companion holding a candle so as to enable him to do so. How my heart beat as I read my dear girl’s message, marked on the wall on the inner side whichever way the curves ran. Obviously it would create less attention by guiding herself in this wise as she passed. She had kept her hand well down so that her signs should not be confused with the marks made by the men who, guiding themselves likewise, had held their hands at a natural height. Her sign marks ran continuously, even after We had passed into the passage between the chapel and the monument; the writing ran as follows:
“Four men came in — two waiting in passage through bookcase — late — striking one — struggled — then quiet — hands free — same voice we heard in Chapel. Feathers thin voice, small man, dark — all masked — Whisky Tommy hoarse voice, big man, sandy, large hands — Dago, deep voice, swarthy, little finger missing left hand — Max, silent, nods for speech, think dumb — two others on ahead too far see, hear.”
In a pause I heard the chief detective murmur: “ That girl’s a peach. We’ll get her yet! “ The spot at which we were pausing was where the way to the reservoir branched off. Here Marjory probably stood with her back to the wall and used her hands behind her back, for the strokes were smaller and more uneven. There were faults which put me out and I could only read a few words — ” whispering “ — ” only word can hear ‘ manse.’ “ There was evidently some conversation going on between her captors, and she was making use of her opportunities. Then we went on and found the signs renewed. It cut me to the heart when I saw a smear of blood on one of the marks; the rough uncertain movement and the sharp edges of the rock had told on her delicate skin. But later on, the blood marks were continued, and I could not but think that she had cut her fingers on purpose to make a more apparent clue. When I mentioned my surmise to the detective, his instinct having been trained in such matters, showed a keener insight than my own:
“More likely she is preparing to leave a mark which we can see when they get her out of the tunnel. They may not suspect intention if her fingers are bleeding already!” The words following the stop where I had read “ manse “ were:
“Boat ready — Seagull — Coffin — Hearse — bury isl — ” Here the next mark instead of being horizontal took a sudden angle down, and the blood was roughly rubbed off. It was as though her hand had been struck in the act of making the mark. Her captors had suspected her. There were no more marks on the wall. I could riot imagine, however, that Marjory would be entirely baffled. She had infinite resource, and would doubtless find some other means of leaving a clue. Telling the others therefore to keep back I threw the rays of the lamp over roof and walls and floor as we proceeded.
It was a strange scene. The candles and lamp showing up but patches of light in the inky blaclc darkness; the moving figures projected against the lights as I looked back; the silence broken by the shuffling tread of stumbling feet on the rock floor; the eager intense faces, when a change in the light flashed them into view. It all moved me at moments, for there was a gleam of hope in its earnestness.
I tried to put myself in Marjory’s position. If her hands were useless, as they would be if she could not use them without suspicion — even were they not tied now as was probable — her next effort would be with her feet; I therefore looked out carefully for any sign made this way. Presently I “came across a ‘mark which I suspected. It was only a few steps beyond the last mark on the wall. It was a sort of drag of ‘the foot, where there was any slight accumulation of dust, or rubbish, or sand. There were more such traces ahead. So motioning to the others to keep back, I followed them up, taking care not to disturb, any of them. They were but the rough marks made during a stumbling progress; and for a time I wa
s baffled; though I could distinguish the traces of Marjory’s little feet amongst the great ones. Then I went back and looked at them afresh from the beginning, and a light burst upon me. They were made with the right or left foot asrequired; thus she could reproduce the bi-literal symbol. Interpretation was now easy enough, and hence on, to the exit from the tunnel,” I could tell almost every word written. There being only a few cases where the sign was not sufficiently marked for me to read it.
“Suspicious. Hands tied — gagged — find Seagull — find Manse.”
It was sadly slow work, and my heart at times sank within me at the exasperating delay in our progress. However, it was progress after all; and that sustained us. All along, as we worked our way towards the monument, I had been thinking of the word “manse;” and now its repetition showed its importance. It would be necessary that the abductors have some place in which to conceal their captive, before they should be able to get her out of the country. That this latter would be a necessary step towards their object was manifest; but the word Seagull settled it.