Boycotted Part 38

"`Come, get up there! What do you do here? Get up, do you hear?'

"I had one hope left, and it was a desperate one.

"I roused myself slowly, and with many feints, from my mock slumber, and rubbed my eyes and yawned, and stared first at one, then the other.

"`Get up,' again cried the men, still pulling my arm roughly, `and say what you're doing here.'

"`Doing here?' I drawled as unconcernedly as I could, stretching myself at the same time, `That's a pretty question to ask me. What were _you_ doing not to be here at eight o'clock, I'd like to know?'

"The men let go my arms, and looked at me in bewilderment.

"`Why,' said one, `are you--'

"`There,' said I, `we don't mention names in our trade. You'll learn that when you grow older, and you'll learn to be punctual too,' I added, testily.

"The men looked half abashed.

"`We were here at eight,' they said.

"`No, you were not. I was here at eight to the minute, and I had time to fall asleep, as you see, before you came. But never mind that. You know what business is on foot, I suppose?'

"`Yes, I had it all from--'

"`Hush! no names, you dolt; what did I tell you before?'

"The men were perfectly sheepish now, and I began to breathe again. It was well I had been described in the letter as a `queer dog,' for it is an easy part to act, even to save one's own life. Besides, this would account sufficiently well for my unbusinesslike attire.

"My great fear was lest the real person referred to in the letter should arrive on the scene before I had quitted it. I therefore ordered an immediate departure.

"`We've lost an hour already with your dilatoriness,' I growled; `don't let us lose any more. As it is, it is a chance if we reach Culverton before morning. Come, lead out my horse, and bring what food you have with you, for I'm starving.'

"Before five minutes had pa.s.sed we were safe out of the cottage and in the high-road--I, mounted on my faithful and partly refreshed horse, eating ravenously of the sc.r.a.ps of bread and meat my companions had left, while they trudged along in the snow one on either side.

"In this manner we progressed for an hour or so in silence, until about one o'clock there appeared on the side of a distant hill a twinkling light. I knew it at once. It had guided me home often and often before now, and it was doing so again. But in what strange company!

"`That's Culverton, on the hill there,' said I.

"The men, who were nearly dead beat with their tramp through the deep snow, said nothing, but plodded on doggedly. It was nearly an hour more before we reached the outskirts of the estate, and by this time so exhausted were they that when I cried a halt they fairly sat down in the snow.

"I was strongly tempted to leave them there; but a desire to bring them to condign punishment prevented me. They were armed, and I was not.

Besides, the reference in the letter to my father's steward made me anxious to sift the matter to the bottom.

"`Come, come,' said I, `at that rate you'll never see the strong box.

Get up, men!'

"They struggled to their feet. Had they been anything but the villains they were I could have pitied them, they looked so miserable.

"`Hold my horse,' said I, dismounting, `while I go and reconnoitre. I know every inch of the ground. Keep in the dark, whatever you do, under the hedge there. So. Are you loaded?'

"`I am,' said Tom, sullenly taking out his pistol.

"`So am I,' said the other.

"`Give me one of the pistols,' I said, as coolly as I could. `You won't want both here, and I may want one.'

"Tom handed me his.

"`Now keep a look-out here, and when you hear me whistle over the wall, come sharp, mind!'

"So saying, I left them, and went on towards the house.

"Except in my father's room no lights were burning, and I began to hope that what the letter had said about the steward might after all prove to be false. I went quietly up to the back door and turned the handle. It was open. The story was true, then, and in my rage and indignation I could hardly contain myself to act my part any longer. However, I made a desperate effort.

"Holding the door slightly open I whistled softly. There was no answer.

I whistled again louder. This time there was a sound of some one moving, and the faint nicker of a candle, and presently I heard a voice whisper--

"`Is it all right?'

"`All right,' I whispered back. `And you, steward?'

"`Yes. All ready. Come in.'

"I entered. My hat was over my eyes, and in the faint candle-light the false servant did not know me. I followed him to his room.

"`You're late,' he said, reaching down some keys from a nail. `Where are the rest?'

"`Outside,' I replied in a low whisper.

"But, low as it was, the voice was not disguised enough to escape the quick ear of the steward. He turned sharply round and looked at me, while I at the same moment, throwing off my cap, sprang towards him and presented my pistol.

"He was too stunned and terrified to do anything but drop on his knees and utter incoherent entreaties and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns for pity.

"`How is my father?' I inquired, not heeding his entreaties, and pointing the pistol still at his head.

"`Better,' he faltered--`much better. Oh, Master--'

"`Come with me,' I replied, turning to the door.

"He accompanied me like a lamb. Had my father been worse I had intended to lock him up a prisoner in his own room. As it was, I took him silently and stealthily through the village and delivered him up then and there into the hands of the watch.

"This villain secured, it only remained to make sure of the other two.

And this, as it happened, was a very easy task. For both, exhausted by their long, forced march and utterly benumbed by the cold, had fallen into a drowsy stupor under the hedge where they had been left, crouching beside my faithful steed for warmth. In this state it was simple work to secure them and march them off to custody, where at any rate they were not less comfortable for a time than they had been.

"A further visit next morning to the `tower by the river,' which was well known to the watch as a rendezvous of thieves, served to secure the rest of the conspirators: and the law of the land shortly afterwards put it out of their power one and all to practise their wicked craft again.

"As for me, that night taught me a lesson or two that I've not forgotten to this day, and which in my turn I've tried to teach to some of you here. I went back to Ogilby a wiser man than I had left it, and, thank G.o.d, a better one."

"And what did the poor horse do?" asked the youngest of the Culvertons.