Suddenly the gate was opened, and the car shot out. Mansel’s hand touched my shoulder.
“Can you see who’s shutting the gate?”
“I think it’s the woman,” said I. “Yes, I can see her skirt.”
“Good,” said Mansel. “And now I think we’ll follow. But I hope the others won’t try to get in their way. Could you tell at all how many got into the car?”
I shook my head.
“Rose Noble?”
“I assume so,” said I. “I certainly heard his voice. Besides, you heard what he said.”
“I don’t count what he says,” said Mansel. “If he saw that rope was moving, I’ve played my cards wrong.” “What else could you have done?”
“Followed Casemate and met him,” said Mansel. “But you couldn’t have known—”
Mansel smiled.
“You never do—at cards,” he said.
Adèle’s voice came from the stairway. “I’m ready, Jonah,” she said.
A moment later we were in the King’s Closet.
With the utmost caution Mansel opened the door; then he signed to Adèle to follow. I caught up her dressing-case and brought up the rear.
The King’s Bedchamber was empty.
Like thieves in the night, we stole across its floor and into the Dining-room.
A moment later we entered the antechamber.
The door was as we had left it; but the hammers and chisels were gone, and the window was shut.
With a little manipulation I had the upper bolt free and wheedled it clear of the jamb. The lower, however, resisted, and Mansel, who was down on his knees, was able neither to turn it nor thrust it back.
At length he rose to his feet.
“Are the ropes there, Chandos?”
I stepped to the window, but the ropes were gone.
When I told him, he frowned.
Then he wedged the door, so that it could not be opened from the opposite side, and rose to his feet.
“Come,” he said, turning. “We must try the other end of the suite.”
So we came back to the Closet and, passing through the Queen’s rooms, entered the other antechamber which the bookseller’s guide had shown us that we might expect.
There was now before us a door like that we had left, which gave, no doubt, into the other “gallery of stone.”
And this door also was fast.
I confess that here the sweat ran over my face.
To be within hail of freedom, to have the prison to ourselves, to have come so far, only to be prevented, as rabbits left in a hutch, was almost more than I could bear.
Mansel took a wedge from his pocket and thrust it under the door. Then he led us back to the Closet and down the winding stair.
“Wait here,” he said. “It’s no good our all getting wet. I’m going through the door at the head of the terrace steps. That should be open, all right. And then, if I can, I’ll draw that blasted bolt.”
With that, he was gone.
I clapped my ear to the keyhole, and Adèle’s hand stole into mine. I remember thinking that she was seeking comfort, but now I know that she would have comforted me. I was trembling so much that I could not keep my head steady against the wood.
Then I heard the sound which I dreaded, and trembled no more.
I heard Mansel go by with a rush, to try the opposite door.
He was back in an instant.
As I helped him out of the channel—
“I should have kept a chisel,” he said. “But, chisel or no, we must try that bolt again.”
Adèle laid a hand on his arm.
“You’ll die of cold, dear,” she said. “Have you dry things?”
“We mustn’t wait, my lady. I—”
“I won’t stir from here,” said Adèle, “until you’ve changed.”
Mansel smiled and was gone.
There were dry clothes in the Closet, for Hanbury had had the foresight to send us two changes apiece.
Adèle had me by the coat.
“Oh, why did you stay?” she breathed. “If Rose Noble gets him, he’ll break him by eighths of an inch. I never knew what hate was, till I heard that terrible man. And he’s got it in for Jonah from bottom to top. I’m nothing—a lever at most . . . one of the levers of the rack. It’s only the money that can save him. Remember that. Dying men can’t sign cheques. But if ever the cheque is signed . . . . How much is he asking?”
“Five hundred thousand,” said I.
I felt her fingers tighten upon my coat.
“He’d take a hundred thousand—with Jonah thrown in. I’ve heard him say so—not once, but fifty times. I tell you—”
“Chandos,” said Mansel from the stairway, “pull in that rope. Cut a length of a hundred yards. If we can’t shift that bolt . . .”
What else he said I never knew, for the moment I handled the cord, I knew that it had been severed a few feet away.
I think I must have exclaimed, for Mansel called sharply to know what the matter might be.
“It’s cut already,” said I, and, with that, I pulled in what was left and proved my words.
With his back to Adèle, Mansel looked me full in the eyes.
“I was right—-just now,” he said quietly. “I ought to have led out Clubs.” Then he turned to Adèle. “Come, my lady,” he said, “and we’ll have another whack at that door.”
“Tell me, Jonah,” said Adèle.
“My dear,” said Mansel, “Rose Noble’s a careful man. He locks the door before the horse is stolen, but he takes the precaution of locking it afterwards, too. Never mind. We’ll get out somehow.”
When we entered the Closet, he picked up the bottle of brandy and poured some into a glass.
"The stirrup cup,” he said, smiling, and gave the glass to Adèle.
Then he and I drank quickly.
A moment later we were crossing the Bedchamber’s floor.
As we entered the Dining-room—
“That’ll do,” said Rose Noble.
There was nothing to be said or done.
The fellow was sitting in a chair at the head of the table, with his elbows upon the board and a pistol in either hand.
Never before or since have I felt so far out of my depth.
A moment before, we had had the suite to ourselves; the entrance doors had been wedged and as good as barred; no sound of any sort had come to our vigilant ears. Yet our movements had been closely observed, our intentions had been accurately gauged, and our enemy had been able to snare us with the effortless ease of a nurse outwitting a child.
“Keep your hands up,” said Rose Noble, “and come and sit down—you two twopenny squirts to right and left, and the goods facing me. Move.”
Slowly we did as he said.
“Now put your palms on the table.”
Again we obeyed.
“And if anyone wants to die, they’ve only to move a hand.”
Desperately I tried to marshal my wits, for if ever a clear head was needed to save the game, it was needed now; but my brain was ever wayward, and I remember thinking how strange a picture we made and how much astonished King Maximillian would have been, could he have viewed such a company gracing his private board.
Before me Mansel sat easily, leaning back in his chair. His hair was wet and rumpled, and he wore no collar or tie. His light, tweed coat, turned up about his neck, became him admirably and a quiet smile was lighting his handsome face. On my left Adèle sat upright; her colour was high and, because of her short, crisp hair, she looked like some old picture of a beautiful boy. She was wearing a fawn-coloured dress, and white silk was edging her delicate wrists and throat. Laid upon the smooth, dark oak, her lovely hands were unforgettable. And on my right, deep in the King’s great chair, sat Rose Noble. One pistol lay before him; the other was in his right hand. His great bulk was loose as ever, and his huge face grey and flabby as when I had seen him first. He stayed so still that he might have been some gross idol, carved out of
stone. Their lids, as usual, were almost hiding his eyes, and a faint smile was hanging upon the cruellest mouth that I have ever seen.
For a long time he held his peace, but at length he gave a smooth laugh.
‘“Stone walls do not a prison make,’” he said softly. “An’ I guess you three could heckle the guy that wrote that.”
“My favourite maxim,” said Mansel pleasantly. He looked across the table at me. “William,” he said, “we must do better next time. There’s a door behind our host—in the panelling. There’s probably one in each room. They open into a passage which—”
“Quite so,” drawled Rose Noble. “Quite so. I call it ‘The Listening Post.’” His eyelids flickered, and the blood came into my face. “And now, perhaps, you’ll let the geography stew and listen to me. I wasn’t at Oxford College, but I guess the notes I’ve sent you were plain enough.”
“As plain as my replies,” said Mansel.
“I didn’t hear them,” said Rose Noble. “But, now we’re so snug, maybe you’ll say them again.”
“The first thing,” said Mansel at once, “Is to clear the air. This lady may be your prisoner, but I am not. One doesn’t imprison one’s broker if one happens to want some funds. I mean, that’s elementary.”
“Maybe it is,” said Rose Noble. “One don’t spoil his right hand either. But I’ve known a guy that kicked when he had two lights, as mild as his mother’s milk and when he had but one.”
“I daresay you have,” said Mansel. “It takes some people that way.”
Rose Noble moistened his lips.
“I’m not out to break you,” he said. “It’s the goods that’ll get the rough.”
“Are getting the rough,” said Mansel. “And there again I advise you to watch your step. ‘Perishable goods’ have a market; but ‘damaged goods’ make a very different price.”
“They’re not damaged—yet,” said Rose Noble. “And I’m still waiting for a bid.”
Mansel raised his eyebrows.
“A few months ago,” he said quietly, “you stole some papers of mine. Give me them back, and I’ll pay you a hundred pounds and hold my tongue.”
I was aghast at this boldness and fully expected a truly dreadful outburst by way of reply. But none came; and after a little silence I breathed again.
Rose Noble lifted his lids and looked at Adèle.
I cannot describe the awfulness of his gaze. Hatred, malice and all uncharitableness burned in those terrible orbs. Themselves monstrous, their message was like unto them, and before its beastly menace my blood ran cold.
“You hear?” he said grimly. “You’re pretty enough to fool round, but, when it’s a question of paying, your gentleman-friend gets off.”
Adèle flushed under his tongue.
“It’s never been a question of paying,” she said. “Big words,” said Rose Noble. “But they won’t pull you out of this mess. Your health and your name’s on the counter; and if you fancy either, you’d better trouble Big Willie to open his purse.”
“My name?” said Adèle, frowning.
“Your name,” said Rose Noble softly. “You see, I’m not selling to your husband. I’m selling to the man next door.”
Adèle’s colour came and went. She looked round swiftly.
Then—
“You mean—”
“That I have not asked your husband to buy you back. That I have ignored his existence from first to last. That he’s all sure and grateful that Big Willie’s hoeing his row. That Big Willie daren’t undeceive him . . . daren’t so much as breathe my name—for fear of its putting ideas into his innocent head.”
The brutal accuracy of this saying was to me like a buffet which makes the head sing again; and my brain seemed suddenly pygmy beside that of this terrible man.
Adèle had gone very pale.
“You mistake us,” she said coldly. “Our understanding—”
“So I guess,” said Rose Noble, as though she had not opened her mouth, “your pretty name is as much for sale as your health. Of course, if it isn’t bought in, your husband can have it back. But it’s not every fool, by — , that’ll pick up a rotten rose.”
“I agree,” said Mansel. “In fact, all you say would be very much to the point, if I hadn’t told Captain Pleydell that I was in love with his wife.”
Very slowly the blood flowed into Adèle’s sweet face. She did not look at Mansel, and her eyes, which were resting on Rose Noble, never moved. But, after a little, I saw that their focus had changed and that, though she was looking before her, she did not see, because she was lost in thought.
Rose Noble gave a thick laugh.
“I see,” he said smoothly. “And, of course, he couldn’t kick you—because of his leg. Well, well . . . And if you think that chokes me, you’re nursing the dirty end. I guess I’ve a sleeve full of trumps—but if you don’t want to see them you know the way.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to play them,” said Mansel. “You see, we don’t mind paying, but it wouldn’t amuse the lady to know she’d been bought.”
“That’s right,” said Adèle.
Rose Noble sat back in his chair.
“You mean she don’t care to be mortgaged outside your arms?”
“I didn’t say that,” said Mansel.
“I’ll take it as read. I don’t move around on your dunghills, but I guess a woman’s a woman whether she’s warming her maid or selling fish. This man can bend her fingers, and that one can go to hell. ‘With love from little Willie’ don’t happen to suit her book. Maybe it don’t suit yours. And so, I’ll help you out.” He leaned suddenly forward. “Be here in this room yourself a week from to-day, with two hundred and fifty thousand in Bank of England notes, and I’ll let the three of you go.”
“Nothing doing,” said Adèle swiftly.
“I am not prepared,” said Mansel, “to continue to talk this over while Mrs. Pleydell sits there.”
Rose Noble’s eyes narrowed.
“If you don’t like the rules,” he drawled, “you—well needn’t play. I’ve picked my words so far, but run me up and I’m not going to cramp my tongue. If you’re bunched round my table, God didn’t put you there.
You homed right into this parlour, and, if you don’t like the eats, I guess you can swallow them whole.”
“I repeat my request,” said Mansel. “I decline to—
“I don’t fancy that verb,” snapped Rose Noble, using a savage oath. “You may feel ugly, but I’ve the right end of the gun. And now try and get me, you — . I’m running this — party from the soup to the pineapple’s bush. If you wanted a Bible reading, you’ve come the wrong day of the week. We’re talking business this morning. It mayn’t smell as sweet as lipsalve, but, if I find your linen dirty, I reckon you made it foul.”
“I repeat my request,” said Mansel steadily.
Rose Noble sucked in his breath. Then he opened his blazing eyes.
“Then finish,” he said, “you — . You say you’ve told her husband you want his wife. I’ll give you some more to tell him, next time you meet. So far she’s lived alone in her private suite. Bedroom and bathroom adjoining, as tight as you please. Now we’ll cut out the bathroom, sonny, and she’ll share—”
“I decline to—”
With a roar Rose Noble flung forward, and Mansel’s bare hands shot out. The left struck aside the pistol, as Rose Noble fired; the right hit the beast on his mouth and knocked him into his chair. But for this, he must have gone down before the weight of the blow, but the chair was massive and, though it rocked for a moment, it held him up.
The sudden support saved him.
As I snatched at the second pistol, he swept it off the board, but the movement disordered his aim, and his second bullet went wide.
“Into the bedroom,” yelled Mansel, hurling an oaken footstool, with all his might.
As I hustled Adèle through the door-way, 1 heard a screech of pain and a third report. Then Mansel whipped into the r
oom and I slammed the door.
“Quick! Wedge the doors,” breathed Mansel.
Now that we suspected their presence, the doors in the panelling were easy to find, and, since they opened inwards, before thirty seconds had passed the Closet and Bedchamber had been secured.
As I drove the last wedge, Mansel leaned his back to the wall and covered his eyes.
“That chair,” he said brokenly. “That chair. It’s enough to break a man’s heart. I’d not time to hit him square, but I never so much as dreamed that that damned chair wouldn’t go. If it had . . .”
Adèle put her arms round his neck, drew down his head to hers and kissed his lips.
“My darling,” she said quietly, “no man could have done so well.”
“By God, that’s true,” I cried.
“Oh, Adèle,” said Mansel simply, “I do love you so much.”
Then his arms went about her, and she hid her face in his coat.
Sitting on the floor of the Closet, I summed up our circumstances as best I could.
For the moment, Adèle was safe. What remained of the food which we had drawn up the cliff would last us with care for two days. We had three pistols, each holding seven rounds, and we had the run of two rooms and a way down into the archway—for what it was worth. That we could hold this position I had no doubt; indeed, it seemed most unlikely that Rose Noble would make an attack, for, unless we three could break out or Hanbury and the servants could break in, we must in three or four days fall into his hands.
For us to break out would be extremely hard; we had long ago perceived that the two “galleries of stone” were the keys to the royal suite, and that these were joined by a passage meant that we were surrounded by a guard-room which two men could hold against twenty, the inside of which we had not so much as seen.
With Hanbury and the servants we were no longer in touch. Our line of communication had been cut, and, even though George should decide to attempt our relief, I could not see that four men could bring this about. Six had been none too many two nights ago, and for four to repeat an assault which had only succeeded because it was a surprise seemed to me a hopeless adventure.
I found it hard not to believe that Fortune had taken her stand on the enemy’s side. Had we known of the doors in the panelling, not once but five times over should we have won our match; without that precious knowledge, two nights ago we had all but rescued Adèle; if Rose Noble had not met Casemate in search of his hat, Adèle by now might well have been thirty miles off; but for the weight of the chair, Rose Nobel must have been dead ten minutes ago. This last was a bitter thought. Looking back, I perceived how Mansel had made the brute angry in order to make him move and had actually lured the master into the way of a fool, how he had ignored gross insult and let Adèle suffer in silence to gain his end, and how only the fear of depriving Adèle of his service had made him break off a battle which he might well have won.
Blind Corner and Perishable Goods Page 31