The Solicitor hurried ahead of them, Albert kept by their side and Captain Daltry walked behind, his pistol pointing at the Duke’s back.
They went up the staircase to the first floor, up another flight of stairs to the second and again up a steep flight, which led to the third.
Here the passage was narrow with a number of doors opening out of it and Ilitta knew that they were the servants’ quarters.
The floor was covered in dust and they passed half a dozen doors before reaching an open one. She felt that one of the men, perhaps Captain Daltry himself, had come upstairs to inspect it while they were washing before luncheon.
The room they entered was certainly bare and cold, an attic bedroom with an iron bedstead against one wall having only a mattress on it and no other bedding.
The chest of drawers had several of the handles missing. There was a washbasin with a cracked ewer and a chipped china bowl and in front of the small empty grate there was a tattered rag rug such as Ilitta knew the cottagers made to sell for a few pence.
“As you can see,” Captain Daltry said sarcastically, “there is every comfort and for your pretty sister there is an almost identical room which opens out of it.”
Bowing his head under the sloping ceiling, he led the way into another room even more unprepossessing than the first.
Here another iron bedstead was tied together with string, but there were two threadbare blankets lying on the worn mattress and on the wall above the bed a text embroidered with coloured wool.
There was no rug on the floor, while the chest of drawers had a broken leg and was propped up on a brick.
After a quick glance round, Captain Daltry returned to the first room from which the Duke had not moved, although Ilitta had followed him.
“If you are thinking of escaping,” he said, “let me tell you that Albert will be on guard in the passage outside and I shall be downstairs ready to shoot anyone who in the darkness I might so easily mistake for a burglar.”
He walked to the door, but looked back to say,
“If you are not ready to sign by the morning, I feel quite certain that your sister will persuade you to be sensible. Starvation is invariably a very compelling argument.”
He walked from the room without waiting for a reply and shut the door. They heard first the key turn in the lock and a heavy bolt put in place and then the same treatment to the room allotted to Ilitta.
As they heard footsteps moving away down the passage, Ilitta threw herself against the Duke and cried,
“Do they mean it? Do they really mean to leave us here to starve if you don’t give them the money?”
The Duke automatically put his arm around her. He did not look at her but stared with unseeing eyes across the room.
“There must be some way we can get out of this mess,” he said in a low voice.
As he spoke so calmly, she knew that he was determined if it was humanly possible not to surrender.
She felt her fear slip away from her and she smiled.
“As we obviously cannot leave by the floor,” she said in a whisper, “what about the window?”
They moved together to the window to find that it was a very small casement under pointed gables, which Ilitta remembered now she had noticed at the very top of the house.
She could also remember and one glance confirmed it that there was a sheer drop to the ground and the only easy way to escape would need wings.
There was no need to say anything, as each knew what the other was thinking and moving from his arm, which was around her shoulders, Ilitta sat down on the bed.
As she did so, she found the mattress was extremely hard and probably stuffed with straw.
“What are we to do?” she asked, trying not to sound petrified.
“I admit it is difficult to think of a plan,” the Duke answered in such a low voice that she could hardly hear him.
“I knew they were unpleasant, crooked and wily,” she said, “but not as bad as this.”
As she spoke, she opened a small handbag attached to her wrist by ribbons in which she carried her money.
In it was the pencil with which she had written down for the Duke what animal she thought each of the three men was like when she had first seen them.
Now with the pencil in her hand she jumped up from the bed and going to the wall started drawing.
It was a white-washed wall and she managed with a technique the Duke much admired to depict Captain Daltry with a fox’s head, which made it still easier to identify him.
The Ferret was smaller, but it was a recognisable portrait and then towering over them, large, clumsy and somewhat menacing, was the wrestler with a Baboon’s head.
It took her a very little while to draw them and as she did so the Duke, sitting on the bed watching her, thought that no other woman he had ever met could behave so well in what he was well aware were most unpleasant circumstances.
He was quite sure that Captain Daltry would keep to his threat and imprison them in the attic until they agreed to his terms.
Too late he realised that he had played into the man’s hands by agreeing to his condition of secrecy and telling no one, not even his mother, where he was going.
The Marquis of Buxworth would have no inkling except that he had not turned up as expected and Lord d’Arcy Armitage who was expecting him this evening would be disappointed.
‘What can I do?’ he asked himself.
He looked round the room desperately, as if he expected some other exit would reveal itself besides the locked door and the window with an eighty-foot drop beneath it.
Then, as Ilitta put the finishing touches to her caricatures of their jailers, the Duke walked restlessly through the open door into the next bedroom.
Because he was so tall he had to bend his head and shoulders to pass beneath the sloping roof.
But once inside the room he felt it was hardly worth the trouble. It was just as secure a prison as the one next door.
Then, as he was about to return to Ilitta, an idea came to him and he looked up at the ceiling.
It was not at all far above his head and was stained with damp, especially near the window, where the plaster was peeling away from the wall.
As he looked more closely, he saw what he was seeking and, as he stared upwards, Ilitta came in from the next room.
“I wondered what you were doing.”
The Duke put his fingers to his lips to ensure her silence and then he pointed to where just above the window there was a square to be seen on the ceiling, which he knew must be a trapdoor leading up to the roof.
It was usually found in the attics of most old houses and was the only means by which workmen could reach the roof to repair it when rain came through the tiles or tiles themselves were blown away in a gale.
As Ilitta looked up, the Duke fetched a hard chair from the other side of the room and, climbing onto it, started to press the flat of his hand against the trapdoor.
At first he did so tentatively as if to test how firm it was and then more forcefully as he realised it would have been painted over the last time the room was decorated which was obviously a long time ago.
It took a great deal of strength before suddenly with a bang the trapdoor gave way beneath his pressure and fell backwards with a crash.
Quickly the Duke climbed down from the chair and, covering his mouth with his hand so that his voice sounded as if it came from a distance, he said,
“What is the matter? Have you hurt yourself?”
He looked at Ilitta as he spoke and she understood that someone might be listening to what they were doing.
“No, it’s all right,” she cried, raising her voice as if she was in the next room. “I only knocked over a chair. I think its leg is broken.”
“Better the chair than you,” the Duke replied and Ilitta managed a little laugh.
Then he took her by the hand and drew her back into the next bedroom.
They sat down side by side on the bed
and he said,
“I think we may be able to escape by the roof but it is vital that we investigate it before it gets dark. I rather doubt whether our host will allow us candles in case we set the house on fire.”
Ilitta nodded and then said,
“I will do the investigating. You must stay here in case they speak to you.”
She saw the Duke was about to argue and added,
“If he does come back, you can say I am asleep and that you don’t want to disturb me. But if you don’t reply he will be suspicious and may come in to investigate. They might even put us in the – cellar.”
There was a little tremor in her voice and the Duke knew that like most women she would be afraid of rats.
“Do you really think you can explore the roof?” he asked.
“I am sure I can. We have the same sort of gables at home and I have often climbed over the rafters when exploring or playing hide-and-seek.”
She could see that he was not quite convinced and she went on,
“You must admit I am lighter than you and it’s very easy to slip and come through a ceiling.”
“Very well,” the Duke agreed, “but you must promise me you will not do anything dangerous. You must just find out if there is any possible way of escape. Then come back and tell me what you have discovered.”
Because she knew that it was a mistake to talk more than necessary, Ilitta merely nodded and getting up went into the next room.
First she took off her bonnet and her cloak and laid them down on the bed.
Then she covered them with the blankets hoping that at a casual glance anyone would think she was lying down asleep.
To make it more realistic she took off her slippers and arranged them so that they stuck out, looking like two feet, from under the blanket.
She knew as she did so that the Duke’s eyes were twinkling as if he appreciated how clever she was being.
Then she went and stood beneath the open trapdoor and looked at him.
He picked her up by her knees and lifted her gently until she could climb through the opening onto the rafters.
As she expected, there was quite a lot of light, not only from several small skylights of glass that had been inserted obviously to help any work that had to be done on the roof, but also because there were several slates that had either slipped or been blown away.
Slowly, because she knew it would be a mistake to hurry, Ilitta crawled from one joist to another.
She was very careful not to slip between them and, as she had told the Duke, put her feet through the ceiling of one of the rooms.
Not that she was sure that there would be anyone in them, but the fall of plaster might make a noise and alert the Baboon if he was listening.
It seemed a very long way to the end of that part of the house and her knees were beginning to ache and so were her shoulders from crouching down beneath the sloping roof.
Finally she saw a blank wall ahead of her and for a moment was afraid that there would be no way out except through one of the rooms.
Then, as she reached the very end of the attic and was thinking that she must turn back, she saw first a light coming from beneath her and then, with a leap of her heart, the top of a workman’s ladder protruding from a small opening.
Resting on one of the joists was a hammer and a screwdriver as if someone had been working on it recently.
Ilitta looked at the ladder leading down to the passage on which their bedrooms were situated and where the Baboon, Albert, was supposed to be acting as sentinel.
Then she could see by craning her head backwards that there were doors not only on the side of the passage where their rooms were situated but also opposite.
She was certain these led to cupboards or small bedrooms which in many large houses had no outside window, but where the lowest and least important kitchenmaid or housemaid slept until they were promoted to larger and better bedrooms.
Her mother had always refused to use them in her home because she considered them unhealthy.
Nevertheless they were there as part of the architect’s design and Ilitta was certain now that, if the Baboon was on duty, he would have made himself as comfortable as possible by sitting or lying in a room opposite the door he had to watch.
Anyway there was nothing she could do but take a chance on it, although she had the feeling that the Duke would expect her to go straight back to him.
‘I must find out a little more,’ she thought and turning round felt with her stockinged feet for the first rungs of the ladder.
A moment later she was in the passage and saw as she expected a staircase, very much the same as the one they had come up, which descended just inside the end wall of the house and she suspected led to the kitchens.
She began to creep down it, listening all the time for the sound of anyone moving or speaking, being sure that in such a large empty house sound would travel a long way and she would not have time to hide before she was seen.
She reached the second floor and seeing that the staircase descended again she thought that this would be the way for them to escape.
Then suddenly she heard someone cough in a room on her left hand side.
She stood very still, every muscle in her body tense and wondered whether she should try to run back the way she had come or look for somewhere to hide.
When the cough came again, she realised that it was of a very old person and therefore not one of their jailers.
It was then, almost as if she was being directed, that what she called her perception told her that the person coughing was someone she could trust and who would help her.
The sound had come from the first room in the passage next to the staircase and she went to the door, knocked on it gently and when there was no answer, opened it.
She saw that she was in a fairly large bedroom and seated in an armchair in front of the fire was an elderly man.
He had white hair and she saw at a glance that he was somewhat frail. He had an old woollen shawl around his shoulders and was holding out his hands towards the fire.
Quietly she closed the door behind her and, walking towards him, said,
“Good evening. I heard you coughing and wondered if I could help you?”
The old man looked up, peering at her with bleary eyes, one of which was beginning to develop a cataract.
“Who be you?” he asked. “You ain’t one of them gentlemen who said the Master’d told them they could take over the house for a day or so?”
“No, I am not,” Ilitta answered, “but you must tell me who you are.”
“I be in charge here,” the old man said. “When the Master – Mister John as I always calls him havin’ known him since he were a boy – was goin’ off with his Regiment, he says to I, ‘you and your wife look after the house until I come home. I know I can trust you’.”
Ilitta sat down on a wicker-seated chair, which was near the old man’s. As she was cold she too, she put out her hands towards the glowing fire.
“You say your Master is with his Regiment,” she said, remembering that Captain Daltry had told them that he was amusing himself in London.
“Aye, he be away in some outlandish place,” the old man said. “But he’ll be home soon. I had a letter from him two weeks ago, saying he’d be back by Christmas.”
“That is good,” Ilitta said. “Did you already know these friends of his who said he had told them that they could use the house?”
“Never set eyes on ’em,” the old man replied. “They gives I five shillings to get out of the way, sayin’ they wanted the kitchen and everything else for themselves.”
He lowered his voice as he looked towards the door.
“You won’t tell ’em that I’m still in the house? They tells I to go to the village.”
“No, of course I will not tell them,” Ilitta said. “And if you would like to hear the truth I don’t believe that your Master told them they could come here and do as they liked.”
&nb
sp; The old man tried to sit up in his chair.
“What be you sayin’ Missie? Are you tellin’ me they be burglars?”
“No, they are not burglars,” Ilitta replied, “just imposters – crooks and they are trying to sell a gentleman the coal mine.”
“Sell the coal mine?”
The old man stared at her in astonishment, then started to laugh, which made him choke and cough for some minutes.
“Can I get you some water?” Ilitta asked.
“Nay, it’s all right,” he managed to say, “but you made me laugh!”
“Because I said they were selling the coal mine?”
“There ain’t more than a bag of coal to sell.”
“Are you sure of that?” Ilitta asked.
“Course I’m sure! The old Master, Mister John’s father, closed it down six year ago.”
“Because the coal had run out?”
“That’s what I told him – and I should know. I were the overseer in charge of the mine.”
Ilitta drew in her breath.
“You mean to tell me that there is no coal there?”
“A lump or two for anyone who wants to dig it for their own grate, but most of ’em prefers wood.”
“You were the overseer, so of course you know.”
“Course I do. There were plenty of coal when I first comes here and it lasted for about ten years. Then it come to an end. The Master were very generous. He offered the men work on the land and only a few refused and went off to Wales. There be plenty of coal there.”
Ilitta was fascinated to receive this information and kept her eyes fixed on the old man who seemed glad to have someone to talk to.
“I be glad not to be workin’ at them mines now I be so old,” he went on. “I’ve bin happy here since Mister John asked me and me wife to come and look after the house for him.”
“Where is your wife now?”
“She died three months ago,” the old man said mournfully, “and lonely I be without her.”
“I can understand that,” Ilitta said. “It must be very sad for you.”
“Her were a Cornish girl from Cornwall like meself.”
Ilitta smiled.
“I wondered what your accent was.”
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