Safe Custody and Laughing Bacchante Page 5

  “Rope,” said Palin. “Why didn’t we bring some rope? You’ll get up on the roof all right by means of the trees: but how are we going to get down on the other side?”

  “I’m going to see,” said Hubert, “before it’s too dark.”

  “Quite so,” said Palin. “And how do we cross the fall?”

  “Same answer,” said Hubert, smiling.

  Palin took off his hat and wiped his face.

  “I dislike the prospect,” he said. “There must be a better way. For the moment it seems to have escaped me, but—”

  “I know,” said Hubert. “So it has me. Meanwhile the light’s going . . .”

  Without more ado we set of up the mountain as hard as we could, and after a quarter of an hour of most exhausting progress we stood high above the castle by the side of the fall.

  Far below us lay the valley and beyond it, like some belvedere, the little strip of roadway from which we had first seen Hohenems: all around was forest, rising and falling as far as the eye could see, and through it flowed the valley, a broad stream of emerald pasture, with the ribbon of water in its midst. Here a spur would jut out and there the woods would withdraw to make a bay, but its course was not interrupted till the sky came down to meet it and the foothills had lost their height. Though the valley itself was in shadow, the forest was all aglow, for the sinking sun was gilding the tops of the trees.

  When we had got our breath, we inspected the fall.

  This was some six feet across and, now that we were beside it, seemed quite impassable. Indeed, I made up my mind that we must climb up to its source, but when I looked up, I saw that that was hopeless, for two hundred feet above us the mountain rose into a cliff on which no trees were growing, which we could never have scaled. Hubert, however, was quick to find out a way.

  The water fell down in three leaps as far as the bridge, and after that ran in its bed. Some forty feet below us, its second leap came to an end, and there a morsel of rock was projecting from the welter of foam. It was not in the midst of the water, but well to our side and it had the look of a hassock some twelve inches square. Upon this a man could stand upright, and thence, taking care, he could leap to the farther bank.

  And so we did.

  Whether the others minded, I do not know; but as I came up to the rock, after Hubert had leaped, my stomach seemed strangely empty and my knees unpleasantly loose. I sprinkled some earth on the surface, as my cousin had done, for the spray had turned his handful to running mud: then I stepped upon it somehow, to feel it quaking beneath the force of the fall. This unexpected horror was better than any spur, and I could not have leaped more quickly if my foothold had been red-hot. And then I was on the wet earth, with an arm round the trunk of a fir-tree, dazed and shaken and trembling and feeling more thankful than ever I did before.

  When we were all across, Hubert led the way down, and almost at once we made out the castle below us between the leaves of the trees. Since these were beeches, however, the foliage made a dense veil, and when we went lower the roofs and walls of the stables obscured our view. The latter stood something higher than we had thought, but when we were standing beside them, we found that more than one tree was stretching out massive branches over the slates.

  This made our ascent as easy as we had hoped, and three minutes later Hubert and I were crawling up to the ridge-pole, while Palin and Stiven were watching us from below.

  That the light was failing was now to stand us in stead, for if we were to observe the courtyard, our heads must appear above the ridge of the roof: indeed, had it been broad daylight, we could not have risked being seen, for scores of windows were commanding the coign we sought.

  The courtyard was broad and peaceful and might have neighboured the precincts. of some cathedral church. Had we not known it was perched upon the side of a mountain, such, an idea would never have entered our heads, for it had the air of belonging to low-lying country, where streams flow lazily and the evenings are very still. Though we could, of course, hear the fall, its sound was now very soft, and the steady rustle seemed less to offend the silence than take its place.

  To the right stood the gate-house, from which I was glad to see that the gates were gone, and directly before us was the entrance to the castle itself. This was very simple for such a place and was graced by only two steps, which were very low, but the door-case was very handsome and the door itself was massive and was studded with nails. To the left stood the servants’ quarters, one storey high, and the kitchen lay in the angle between the castle proper and the wing which the quarters made. To this we could swear, for there a light was burning, and we saw the flash of the saucepans and a man dressed in white making pastry with infinite care. Four or five spreading chestnuts enriched the yard, and a fountain was playing in a basin full in its midst. Plainly enough this water came from the fall, which we afterwards found was tapped two hundred feet up. Water, indeed, from this source was led all over the castle, while the fall itself was used to furnish electric light.

  For convenience’ sake, I have set down all that we saw as well as I can, but at the moment we had no eyes for these things, for all our attention was seized by the sight of a car.

  We could only see the bonnet, because of the pitch of the roof, but this there was no mistaking, for it was that of a Rolls. Its garage was plainly the coach-house which stood beneath where we lay, and the car had been lately washed and now was being polished by a man who was fussing about her, leather in hand.

  This sight of the handsome prize which we were to win not only delighted our hearts but made me quite sure that Fate was now fighting with us and as well directing our actions as smoothing our way: right or wrong, this was a valuable conviction, for from that time on I had more faith in myself and was less afraid to take a sudden decision because I firmly believed that it had been put into my head.

  For perhaps two minutes we gloated over our luck: then a servant came out of the kitchen and raised his voice to the chauffeur still busy about his charge.

  Because of the lisp of the water we could not hear what he said, but the chauffeur nodded in answer and the servant turned back to the house.

  “Calling him to supper,” breathed Hubert.

  My cousin was right.

  Almost at once the chauffeur passed out of our view—no doubt to enter the car, for an instant later we saw the bonnet go backwards and disappear.

  The car had passed into the coach-house.

  The chauffeur reappeared, plunged his hands into the basin and shaking the water from them, fought his way into his coat. Then he crossed the yard to the kitchen and we saw him no more.

  Now the fellow had been too quick to have shut the coach-house doors: it follows that the Rolls was ready to anyone’s hand, and since dusk had now come in, an attempt to carry her off could hardly have failed. There was light enough to see by, yet not enough to show up a thief, and though the servants were near, they were sitting at meat. And that, in a lighted room.

  If only we could gain the courtyard, some twenty-five feet below . . .

  For ten minutes we sought a way down, and sought in vain. While Hubert crawled as far as the kitchen, I made my way round to the gate-house—to no avail: and before we had met again above the garage, I had seen as clear as daylight the blunder which we had made.

  Two of us four should have stayed beyond the water, ready to enter the courtyard and act on the information the others had won. But now our return was cut off, and if, as seemed certain, the only way we could enter was by the archway and bridge, we should have to go down to the valley, pass below the castle and then come up to the road. Even if we met no obstruction, the darkness would hinder our steps, and long before we were up, the chauffeur would have finished his supper and locked up the car.

  “Nothing doing?” said Hubert.

  I shook my head.

  “Then let’s get down,” said my cousin, “and try the stable windows for what it’s worth.”

  By way of a beech
-tree we scrambled back to the ground, and, hardly waiting to give Palin and Stiven our news, turned to the row of barred windows high up in the wall.

  “You can count them out,” said Palin, inspecting his hands. “Those bars are good for another two hundred years. And you can’t get round to the gatehouse because of that enchanting cascade. Not even a slug could do it. The water washes the wall.”

  Hubert drew in his breath.

  “We shall have to go round,” he said. “Down to the valley and round. We’ve torn up a chance in a million, but let that go.”

  “Be reasonable,” said Palin. “Fortune may smile, but she devilish seldom grins, and if we have to work for our sugar, we can’t complain.”

  This was true: and after a cigarette, we made our way round the castle and began to descend the mountain to the valley below.

  Night was now upon us and because of the leaves above us the stars could give us no light. The darkness was, indeed, impenetrable, and although we had our two torches, one failed almost at once and the other’s beam was so feeble that we felt constrained to save it against the vital business of taking the car. It follows that the progress we made was painfully slow. The way was so steep that we could only descend by sliding from tree-trunk to tree-trunk as best we could, and since, when we let one go, we could never see the next to which we were hoping to cling, we fell again and again and were shaken and bruised and battered beyond belief. Worst of all, we had no means of knowing whether we were not approaching the edge of some cliff and whether, when we let ourselves go, our descent was to be arrested before we fell over some brink. Hubert and I were leading and took by turns this very unpleasant plunge, and I never shall forget my relief when, after a desperate run, I fell into the lap of a meadow and felt the grass wet about me and saw the stars overhead.

  This horrid descent had taken us half an hour and after resting a little to get our breath, we hastened over the meadows directly below the castle we could not see.

  The light was superb, robing the majesty of our surroundings with a splendour which I cannot describe, while a delicate radiance in the east declared that the moon was rising and soon would be there to help us climb up to the road.

  We were skirting the trees and had gone, I suppose, half way, when the sound of a definite movement came from the undergrowth. At once we stood still to listen: but since whoever had moved was doing the same, Palin and I left the meadow and entered the wood. I had taken three or four steps when some animal bolted almost from under my feet and, before I could think, I had started aside, missed my footing and fallen into some briars. Palin at once moved towards me, inquiring if I was hurt, but before I would answer he had tripped and fallen himself. It was now my turn to inquire.

  “Yes,” said Palin, “I am. I’m frightened and hurt. I never did like the dark and I wish I was home. Never mind. Come and see. what I’ve found—stumbled on.”

  This was nothing less than the end of a flight of stone steps.

  That these led up to the castle there could be no doubt, and we summoned Hubert and Stiven without delay.

  Now while it seemed unlikely that the steps would help us to-night, it was easy enough to perceive that they might prove more than useful at some other time: and since the longer we waited before beginning our climb, the higher the moon would have risen to guide our feet, we determined to mount the steps and discover what kind of access they gave to the castle above.

  We, therefore, arranged that Stiven and I should go up to see what we could, while Hubert and Palin went on to find a way over the water which we could conveniently take.

  After our drubbing in the forest, mounting the steps seemed the easiest thing in the world, but though they rose in a zigzag, the flights were steep, and we were very soon toiling and had to rest more than once.

  At last I turned for what seemed the fiftieth time to find a wall on my right, and when I looked up, I was standing against the castle and could see the battlements above me outlined against the sky.

  Ten steps more brought us up to a postern gate.

  The gate was of iron bars, and was fastened by a padlock and chain. These were too much for my strength, but the padlock was poorly made and would, I felt sure, succumb to the rudest of tools. The gate admitted to a passage which seemed to run straight ahead, but, though we both strained our eyes, we could not pierce the darkness which reigned within.

  We then surveyed the wall upon either side, to see a row of windows, the sills of which were in line with the lintel above the gate. The nearest was six feet away, but to stand beneath it we had, of course, to go down, and by descending we put it out of our reach.

  “On my shoulders, sir,” breathed Stiven.

  A moment later I had my hands on the sill . . .

  The casement was open and I could look into the room.

  I was staring before me, when Stiven’s hand gripped my leg, and, finding in this movement a warning, I stayed as still as a statue until he plucked at my trousers as though he would have me come down.

  When I was standing beside him, he held me against the wall and, after waiting a moment, began to descend the steps like a shadow itself. As I followed, I lowered my eyes, and there on the step beside me a cigarette-end was glowing a rosy red.

  “You saw the man?” said Hubert.

  “Plain, sir,” said Stiven. “When the cigarette-end went by me, I turned my head, and there he was with a new cigarette in his mouth and leaning on the top of the wall. In one of the gaps, sir. I could see his face white in the moonlight. It’s as still as death up there, and if he’d been ten seconds earlier he must have heard us moving to get to the window-sill.”

  “All’s well,” said Palin. “Was anyone in the room?”

  “I couldn’t say,” said I. “The room itself was in darkness, but some light outside was shining under the door.”

  “That’s better than the postern,” said Palin. “I know those gates. They bar one end of a passage, and the other’s kept by a door about two feet thick. And now what about it? Do we enter the castle to-night? Or only go for the car?”

  After some discussion we held to the plan we had made. That Harris would stick at nothing we had no doubt, and while he was armed, we had not a pistol between us with which we could hold him in check. Until we were armed, however far we might get, any one of the gang could hold the four of us up, and then our state would be worse than it had been the night before.

  “To-morrow night,” said Hubert. “When Harris has gone to bed. We can watch the lights go out and then come down to the valley and walk upstairs.”

  “If we get the car,” said Palin, “I can’t help feeling they’ll sleep pretty light for a while. I know I should. Never mind. Where were we before all this? Oh, I know. Down in the forest something stirred. It was only a b—bird. Was it?”

  “It was some animal,” said I. “I don’t know what.”

  Nor do I to this day. But whatever it was, it did us a very good turn, for, had we not heard its movement as we went by, we should never have dreamed of a means of access to the castle which stood us in very good stead.

  Hubert and Palin had found a bridge over the stream, and ten minutes later we were climbing up to the road by the side of the fall.

  Here the moonlight helped us, as we had hoped. Indeed, without it I do not believe that, had Death been climbing behind us, we could have reached the road. The soil was soft and crumbled beneath our feet: the trees stood apart too far for us to pass from one to the next: such handhold as we secured betrayed us again and again. Three several times we consulted whether or no to go back, but at last we gained our end and clambered on to the road.

  It was now very nearly midnight—for our climb had taken us more than two hours and a half—and, except for the light of the moon, the castle was dark.

  We stole across the drawbridge and, passing under the archway, entered the broad courtyard. This was partly in shadow, but the moon was shining on the stables, the doors of which were fast shut. />
  To right and left stood loose-boxes, four on each side: between these stood two coach-houses: and between these two again stood a harness-room. A loft ran the length of the building, but was clearly approached from within, for no steps or ladder were anywhere to be seen. Four doors running down to the gate-house suggested a row of stalls.

  Here I should say that there were no horses at all. So much we knew already, for the pleasant smell of stabling cannot be hid.

  “Where’s the Rolls?” breathed Palin.

  I pointed to the right-hand coach-house.

  “I see,” he murmured. “No latches to the coach-house doors. That means you enter them both from the harness-room.”

  “Locked, of course,” said Hubert.

  “Indubitably,” said Palin. “Can anyone tell me why we came without any tools? I mean, what d’you think possessed us? If you go to play golf, you usually take your clubs.”

  “Can’t be helped,” said Hubert. “As a matter of form we may as well try the doors.”

  One door only was unlocked, and that was the door of a loose-box that stood on the left. For what it was worth, we entered and shut the door. Then Hubert took the torch from his pocket and gave us some light . . .

  For a moment we stood dumbfounded. Then Palin threw his hat in the air.

  The loose-box had been converted into the carpenter’s shop.

  That we did not deserve such fortune, I frankly confess, and as I surveyed the rows of gleaming tools, the saws and axes and chisels and everything that the most exacting housebreaker could have desired, I felt again that the stars in their courses were fighting against the live Harris as they had fought against the dead.

  Then Palin went out of the loose-box and shut the door, while we laid sacks on the sill and then, for an instant, switched on the electric light: he returned to say that not a gleam could be seen, so Stiven was posted in the courtyard, to watch the house, while the rest of us took off our coats and got to work.

  Our plan was simple—to cut our way into the loft, and then, if no stairs should lead us into a coach-house, to cut our way out through the ceiling directly above the Rolls.