Blind Corner and Perishable Goods

by Dornford YIates

  Mansel was speaking in my ear.

  “The table sinks through the floor. I saw it once before in some castle. The idea was to gain privacy. No servants in the room; but the table descended and rose between each course.” He touched the smooth oak beneath the table. “This piece of the floor is really no more than a lift: and, if we can find out its trick . . . . ”

  I sought to move the table, but it was fixed to the floor.

  “That’s right,” breathed Mansel. “The other I saw was fixed. I remember they said it was raised by a system of pulleys and weights. The weights weighed far more than the table, so it couldn’t descend on its own or so much as budge, but had to be hauled down by a windlass between each course.”

  “It’s as firm as a rock,” said I, stooping. “You don’t think it’s locked into place.”

  Mansel shrugged his shoulders.

  “We must try to find out,” he said. “If we can weight it enough . . . .”

  Then I saw that, with four counterweights, each, let us say, of the weight of the table and lift, these two would seem as much fixed as though they had beneath them a girder to hold them in place—, until there was laid upon them a burden three times their own weight; but that if we could manage to load them to this extent the table would sink through the floor and open a way of escape.

  In silence we lifted the chairs and set them upon the board; they were immensely heavy, but the table stood fast. Ten more chairs we added, bringing them one by one from the other rooms and using our rope to lash the perilous pile. But, though we added our weight, the mass never budged.

  And here we were brought to a standstill, for, though there were yet more chairs, we had used all the rope we had and we could not think how to get them on to the top of the structure their fellows made.

  Suddenly I thought of the slab which Mansel and I had hidden beneath the King’s bed . . . .

  We had dragged this into the chamber, and I was under the table, with my feet braced against the great stretcher, hauling the stone into place, and sitting, as it happened, directly upon the cleft, when I felt a definite movement beneath my seat.

  At once I told Mansel, and, after a short consultation, we lay down upon opposite sides and, taking hold of the stretcher, began to pass by inches on to the lift.

  As I drew myself on, I felt this beginning to move, and all at once we were sinking into some cold, dark place.

  We must have come down with a crash, but the chairs we had piled on the table were overlapping the lift, and, when these were prevented by the floor, the lift, thus relieved of their weight, immediately stopped.

  The torch now showed us a cellar, with a door in its eastern wall. About us was the massive cage in which the lift ran, and at each of its comers were a pulley and a rope and a great counterweight of stone. A little to one side stood the windlass, as Mansel had said.

  And now, once again, as they say, we had the wolf by the ears.

  The floor was but eight feet away, but, if one of us was to descend, the lift would instantly rise and, taking the other up, lock him once more into the Dining-room; while, if both descended at once, the lift would shoot back into place with a shock which would shake the castle and send the twelve chairs crashing to wake the dead.

  But, after a little reflection, Mansel found out a way.

  On the under side of the lift, right in its middle, was a hook; to this was attached the great rope which the windlass controlled. If we could reach this rope, the trick was ours.

  Mansel took my left wrist in his hands and lowered me clear of the lift. At once I swung to and fro until I could reach and lay hold of the great iron hook. With my left hand I then laid hold of the edge of the lift, and Mansel climbed round my body and seized the rope. Then we came down the rope together, on to the ground. We let the lift rise by inches, until it was back in its place, and then, with one accord, we turned to the door.

  This was unfastened and brought us directly into what seemed a great hall.

  For a moment I thought we were out, for I heard the gurgle of water as plain as could be, but then I perceived that the air was the air of a crypt, dank and something musty and very still.

  After listening carefully, we ventured to light the torch.

  The place was a kitchen, but had not been used as such for a number of years. There was the huge fireplace, with the chains for the spits hanging down, and a grate like a hay-rack to serve a dozen joints. Five great, shuttered windows were looking upon the courtyard, and a doorway, whose step was muddy, was in the same wall.

  And on the hearth lay George Hanbury, with his wrists and his ankles bound and a gag in his mouth.

  That George had been left there to live, if he could, but, if he could not, to die we had not much doubt. He had lain there, gagged and bound, for twenty-four hours; his bonds had never been loosened, he had been given no water, much less any food; he had not so much as been visited. And such as will so use a prisoner are scarcely like to be troubled to find him dead.

  Happily George was strong, and his condition of health as fine as ours, and, when we had set him free and had chafed his limbs, he was able to rise and to walk as straight as he pleased. It was clear, however, that he must have food and drink, and, since there remained in the Closet some brandy and bread and meat, we made our way back to the cellar without delay.

  By using the windlass, we had the lift down at once, but, when I would have gone up, Mansel put me aside.

  “I’m going,” he said. “And please give me full five minutes before you bring me down. Now that one’s got to go back, he may as well cover our tracks; the pile of chairs doesn’t matter, but that slab would make anyone think.”

  With that, he mounted the lift, and I hoisted him up.

  And while he was gone, George Hanbury told me his tale.

  “When the car came out of the castle, I was down by the beechwoods at the foot of the cliff. Rowley was with me, but Carson and Bell and Tester were on guard, within sound of the drive.

  “Carson heard the car coming, and the moment it passed he gave chase. I don’t know whether they had expected this, but they did the best they could think of to shake him off. Of course they failed. They didn’t bother much about the foot of the cliff; they certainly went that way, for I saw them go by, but they passed at sixty and never so much as slowed up. The sight of them worried me, but I didn’t see what I could do but stay where I was. Of course Carson could have caught them, but, as Bell and he were alone, he thought he couldn’t do better than cling to their heels. For half an hour they had the devil’s own luck—never a check. Then comes a hairpin bend, and two hundred yards further on a flock of sheep . . . .

  “When Carson rounded the comer, Bunch was fifty yards off and turning his car. Sheep or no, it was an excellent move. The car has a shortish wheel-base, but a Rolls takes some getting round. Then Carson did well. He stopped, went into reverse and started to back to a turning he’d marked at the top of the hill. Before he could get there, Bunch was coming like hell. There was Punter beside him, and Casemate was back in the car. As they went by, Punter fired full at Carson and hit the brim of his hat . . . . ”

  “This annoyed Carson and Bell, and I must say I’m not surprised. And, as soon as the Rolls was round, they put her along. By this time Bunch had stolen a bit of a start, but they gradually overhauled him, and, choosing a smooth bit of going, Bell took a shot at their tank. He didn’t hit it that time, but he laid it open the next . . . .”

  “It was now a matter of time and nothing else. Bunch might do another three miles, but he couldn’t do more, so Carson fell back a little, to keep, as he judged, out of range. Considering they’d fired again and made a hole in the screen, I think he was wise.

  “They were now not more than six miles from the foot of the cliff, and heading that way. The road was full of bends, so half the time the cars were out of each other’s sight. You can guess what happened. Three miles on Carson rounded a bend to see the car, doors open, by the sid
e of the road. Of course, he put down his foot and went by a blue streak. Two shots were fired, but they didn’t do any harm.

  “Then Carson drove back to the spur, and he hadn’t been there ten minutes when I came in. I was as pleased as Punch when I heard his report. I assumed they’d gone out to get food; and now their car was done in, and they were cut off. We fairly picketed that spur. A ferret couldn’t have passed the line we held . . . .

  “Bell and I visited the beechwoods at three. I hated leaving the spur, but it didn’t seem prudent for one to go out alone. We saw no one, and, when we got back, Carson had nothing to report.

  “At last it began to grow dark, and I had to face two fresh facts. The first was this. According to plan, one of the cars must now leave for the foot of the cliff and stay there perhaps till dawn. That was awkward enough, but the second was worse. It was a yard of pearls to a bootlace that Punter and Casemate and Bunch would try to get home that night.

  “After a lot of reflection, I decided to go alone to the foot of the cliff. I went. I meant to take Tester, but at the last I forgot. I found the rope gone and imagined you’d pulled it up. At ten o’clock something fell down about ten yards from where I stood. As I bent over it, somebody laid me out . . . .

  “Well, there you are.

  “The next thing I knew I was lying in the back of the Rolls, which was doing forty over a wicked road. Then I was taken out and hauled through a ground- floor window into the Castle of Gath.

  “Of course it was easy. When the servants heard the Rolls coming, they thought it was me. They probably thought it odd that I should drive on up to Gath, but, before they’d scented the trouble, the fat was burnt.” As I bent again to the windlass, my mind was full. Not only was Rose Noble’s foresight a fearsome thing, but the fellow was very well served. Punter and Bunch and Casemate had done uncommonly well. But what struck me most of all was that, though their car had been ruined and the Rolls was at their gate, the temptation to take her inside had been withstood. That for this resolution we had Rose Noble to thank, I have no doubt; the others would scarce have renounced so handsome a prize. Yet, had we seen the Rolls in the archway, the sight would have told us that George was out of the running, and Adèle would not have been delivered into the enemy’s hand. This was the pink of strategy—the casting away of a sceptre to win a crown; and I must confess a sudden, craven fear that we should never outwit a man so firm of purpose and so unearthly wise.

  The gurgle of water in the kitchen came from a little well. This had been sunk in the floor and was fed by a pipe which clearly ran out of the channel we knew so well. A similar pipe was conducting the overflow. By this simple device, the cooks had always fresh water ready to hand, and, what is more to the point, poor George was able to drink and to bathe his aching jaws. Then we plied him with brandy and made him eat what there was, for, though he made light of his bondage, a man cannot suffer as he had and feel as sound the same night.

  While he was eating and drinking, we laid our plans.

  That the servants were close at hand we had no doubt. Indeed, it seemed certain that they would any moment attack. If they did so before we could reach them, they would assuredly fail, for, for one thing only, they would enter by way of the roof, which the enemy was holding against our escape from the suite. They would thus walk clean into a trap, of which we, below, could not warn them, because we could not climb up. We, therefore, determined to make at once for the gate and, opening this if we could, to bring them in. If we could contrive to do this without being seen or heard, we should for the first time have the advantage of the enemy, for, whilst they were sure that they had but two men to deal with, and those under lock and key, in fact there would be six men free and within their camp.

  The kitchen-door was unlocked and yielded without any fuss.

  As we looked into the courtyard, hardly daring to breathe, the beam of a torch swept the wall beneath which we stood. It was little more than a flash and came, as before, from above; but it showed that the passage windows were still being watched. We had expected no less, but, although the beam was directed upon the wall, it lighted quite twenty feet of the courtyard itself, and, unless we could cross this belt between the flashes, we could not fail to be seen.

  “No good waiting,” breathed Mansel. “We must go across one by one. The first twenty feet on foot and as hard as we can; then, down on your face and crawl the rest of the way. If we go lightly, the water will cover our noise. Chandos first. Wait for me in the porch; I may be a little time coming, because I must shut this door. And now stand by.”

  Whilst he was speaking, the flashes came and went, but at intervals so irregular that no observation could help us, and we had nothing to do but to take our chance.

  At last Mansel gave the word, and I made my dash.

  As I fell on my face, a flicker lit up the courtyard . . . .

  Ten minutes later we were all three in the porch.

  The wicket-gate was locked, and its key was gone. We, therefore, made ready to open the great gate itself, using the greatest care to make no sound. And here, to our vexation, we met with another check. Though we could feel the great bolts, we could not make out how to draw them, for each was engaged with some catch which we could not release. It was dreadful to stand there fumbling, because of some simple holdfast never devised to embarrass a porter’s hand, but intended to prevent the bolts turning under battery of the gate. Yet show a light we dared not; and, as the minutes went by and the catch still mocked our fingers for want of sight, I began to feel that Fortune was not so much frowning upon us as laughing at us in her sleeve.

  Then Mansel gave a short sigh and drew his bolt, and a moment later his fingers were playing with mine.

  As the door yielded, he put his mouth to my ear.

  “You go and find them,” he said. “Hanbury and I stay here. If you don’t strike them at once, try using the torch. But—”

  And there, somewhere behind us, a shot rang out.

  As we swung round—

  “I saw the flash,” said Hanbury. “Up on the roof."

  I ran full tilt into Rowley, who was standing at the foot of the ladders, with a cord in his hand.

  “Oh, thank God, sir,” says he. “We thought you were gone.”

  I shook him by the shoulder and pointed up to the roof.

  “Recall them!” I cried. “Recall them! How can you get them back?”

  He was tugging at the cord, like a madman, when another two shots rang out.

  I could not stand there idle, but began to go up the wall.

  I was on the second ladder, when someone above me looked down.

  “Is that you, Bell?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get Carson and come down to the gate.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  I slid and fell back to the ground, to run to the gate.

  Mansel was standing, waiting, cool as a man in a garden, regarding his flowers.

  “Carson must stay out,” he said. “I daren’t have everyone in. He and Tester must feed us and keep the cars. Send him for food and drink, as soon as he’s down. And two fifty-foot lengths of rope. The others come in.”

  Whilst he was speaking, another four shots were fired, and I ran back to Rowley with my heart in my mouth.

  Him I sent to the gate and took his place. I think he was glad to go, for the firing was growing hotter, and to stand at the foot of the ladder in the knowledge that those you were awaiting might very well never come down pulled at a man’s nerves.

  Such concern will seem out of reason. When six men set out in a body to play with fire, it hardly becomes them to tremble lest someone be burned. But our outlook was not so simple. We feared no more for Carson than Carson feared for himself; but we all of us feared very much for the matter in hand. Our school was not that of Rose Noble. If one of us was wounded, we could not let him lie; he would have to be saved and attended at any cost; how high that cost would be no one could tell, but, placed as we were, w
e all knew that such a distraction might ruin our enterprise.

  It seemed an age before Bell began to descend . . . .

  “Are you hit?” said I.

  “Oh, no sir,” said he. “Nor’s Carson. But, of course, we had to go slow.”

  I sent him to Mansel at once.

  Then a shot was fired right above me, and Carson came down with a run.

  “Come,” said I, and led him away up the spur . . . .

  It was well that I did so, for a light leaped out of the darkness, and a bullet went over our heads. To round the picture, I turned and fired back at the torch. No doubt the bullet went wide, but the light was put out.

  Then I stopped and gave Carson his orders and told him that we were all safe, and he promised to be at the gate in a quarter of an hour. Then I stole back to the castle, and Mansel took me in.

  Two doorways led out of the archway, one upon either hand. These Mansel set us to watch till Carson should come; “but I don’t think,” said he, “they’ll disturb us; they’ve got their hands full. They’ve the roof to watch, and the passage, and it won’t be light for three hours.”

  Here he was right, for Carson came and went, but nobody else; and, though lights flashed on the roof and the passage windows were closely and continually watched, no one came down to the archway or entered the great courtyard.

  Carson went heavily away, for, though his part was most dangerous—because, except for Tester, he was alone—and though he would be the sole link between us and the world we knew, he had the true heart of a fighter and could hardly bear to leave us at such a pinch.

  Early next morning he was to drive into Lass and there to take in supplies which should last us a week. He was then to bestow the two cars as best he could, somewhere beyond the wood and by the cross roads. He was not to move during the day, but by night he was to come to the spur and there wait till one of us met him or else it was dawn.