Blind Policy Part 34

This, for the butler looked unnerved. He went up directly, though, and as soon as he was gone Arthur put his face to the coat, close to the old lady's ear.

"You just listen," he said. "You've had your innings, and led me a pretty devil of a life with your nasty ways. It's my turn now. Quiet, curse you! Stop that row, or as sure as you're a living woman now, you'll want a coffin to-morrow."

"What--what is it you want. Money?" came faintly.

"Never you mind what we want, old girl. There, you needn't kick and struggle; we don't want to carry you off and marry you by force, so lie still. Ah, that's right; look sharp. My Gladstone, not yours. Get out the rope."

The butler, whose face was now mottled with white patches, opened one of the portmanteaus and took out a cord.

"Now come here and lay hold. If she begins to squeal again, tighten your grip a bit."

But the woman lay perfectly still now, and she did not even wince when the footman twisted the rope tightly round her ankles and knotted it fast.

"Now then, over on her face, guv'nor. I must have these wrists tied behind, or she may begin to scratch."

The helpless woman was turned over, her wrists firmly secured, and she was then laid on her side and the coat taken off, to reveal her wide, staring eyes, and teeth set, with the lips drawn right away.

"You've killed her, my boy," whispered the butler in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

"Bah! Old cats like that have got nine lives," said the man, contemptuously. "Here, give me a clean gla.s.s cloth, and I'll shove a gag in her mouth."

"No, no. She's bad enough as it is," whispered the butler. "Let her be."

The footman looked at the old housekeeper dubiously, and then unwillingly gave up his project.

"Shall we put her in the plate-closet? I have the key."

Arthur laughed.

"Why, that would smother her in half an hour. No; help me to lay her down on the hearth-rug. We can come and look at her now and then. But she won't move. We've pretty well frightened her to death."

Judging from appearances, this was the case, and after laying the unfortunate woman on the hearth-rug, they took portmanteaus and coats and hurried out into the main pa.s.sage, then into that which went off at right angles, to stop in front of the lobby door.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

AND GROWS DANGEROUS.

The key the men possessed admitted them at once and the other portmanteau was opened, ready for use--a use which soon became plain.

"Think it'll be all right this time?" said Roach, who was in an intense state of excitement.

"Dunno till I try," was the reply. "Light up and look sharp."

Roach turned to the second portmanteau, which stood inside the door, and took out a dark lantern. Then striking a match, he lit it, and in obedience to a word from his young companion, he held up the cover of the iron door key-hole with one hand, and directed the full glare of the bull's-eye on the opening with the other.

Arthur had not been idle. Hastily doubling his overcoat, he made of it a pad to kneel upon, and then taking a bright new key from out of a piece of tissue paper, he began to try if it would fit.

"All right," he whispered, "it goes splendidly."

"Well done," panted Roach. "But be quick."

"Quick be blowed! Don't you be so jolly nervous; there's no one to interrupt us now."

"Well, turn the key."

"Won't turn--sticks. Oil."

Roach handed a little oil tin from the portmanteau, the key was withdrawn and lubricated and once more thrust in, to evidently act upon a part of the mechanism of the great lock, but that was all.

"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Arthur. "I know the beggar. It's one of that sort you see at the safe shops. When you turn the key you shoot bolts, top, bottom and both sides. It nearly does. He made it quite to the wax pattern, and it only wants a touch or two. Here, give us the file."

"Stop a minute."

"What's the matter?"

"I want to see if old Mrs Barron's safe."

"Look alive then. No, no; give me the file first."

The tool was handed and the active young fellow held the key close to the light and began filing away where it seemed to him the wards of the key wanted opening; and he was still busy when Roach returned. "She's all right," he panted, his breath coming short as if he had been running.

"Oh yes, she won't get clear of those knots--an old cat!--I know. You take it easy, old man; we're as safe as safe."

"But suppose the guv'nors come back from Paris, my dear boy?"

"Won't be back for a fortnight. You know as well as I do. Lor' 'a'

mussy! on'y think of our taking up a game like this, old man!"

"It's awful--it's awful, Orthur."

"Yah! we can't help it. How were we to know that everything we backed would go wrong and leave us in such a hole?" said Arthur, as he filed away.

"But it seems like burglary," whispered the butler.

"Burglary be blowed! Look here, if you're going to whine I shall cut it, and my stick too, and you may face it out with the guv'nors. What are you going to say when they ask after that gold centre-piece, and the rest of the plate you've lent my uncle?"

"We've lent my uncle!" said the butler, reproachfully.

"Oh, well, we then. I'm ready to take my share. It was their fault, and we're driven to this to get money to take out all you've pledged."

"We've pledged."

"We be hanged! You did the pledging, but I don't want to back out of it. I'm going to stand by you. Only, you see, circ.u.mstances are against us, old man. We meant to come quietly and get enough out of here to square us and make us able to make a fresh start on our own hook--I'm sick of their tips--but as soon as we come to do it quietly, meaning to sleep here for the night, that old cat cuts up rough, and we have to quiet her. Consequence is, old man, we've got to go the whole thing and make ourselves rich men all at once. Don't matter. Just as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, so I mean to make it two sheep if I can--two sheep a-piece, old chap. There, that ought to do it now."

He ceased filing and applied the key again, to find that he could turn it a little more.

"Almost," he said. "Oil again."