Checkmate Part 81

THE CRISIS.

When Phbe Chiffinch returned to Alice's room, it was about ten o'clock; a brilliant moon was shining on the old trees, and throwing their shadows on the misty gra.s.s. The landscape from these upper windows was sad and beautiful, and above the distant trees that were softened by the haze of night rose the silvery spire of the old church, in whose vault her father sleeps with a cold brain, thinking no more of mortgages and writs.

Alice had been wondering what had detained her so long, and by the time she arrived had become very much alarmed.

Relieved when she entered, she was again struck with fear when Phbe Chiffinch had come near enough to enable her to see her face. She was pale, and with her eyes fixed on her, raised her finger in warning, and then glanced at the door which she had just closed.

Her young mistress got up and approached her, also growing pale, for she perceived that danger was at the door.

"I wish there was bolts to these doors. They've got other keys. Never mind; I know it all now," she whispered, as she walked softly up to the end of the room farthest from the door. "I said I'd stand by you, my lady; don't you lose heart. They're coming here in about a hour."

"For G.o.d's sake, what is it?" said Alice faintly, her eyes gazing wider and wider, and her very lips growing white.

"There's work before us, my lady, and there must be no fooling," said the girl, a little sternly. "Mr. Levi, please, has told me a deal, and all they expect from me, the villains. Are you strong enough to take your part in it, Miss? If not, best be quiet; best for both."

"Yes; quite strong, Phbe. Are we to leave this?"

"I hope, Miss. We can but try."

"There's light, Phbe," she said, glancing with a shiver from the window. "It's a bright night."

"I wish 'twas darker; but mind you what I say. Longcluse is to be here in a hour. Your brother's coming, G.o.d help you! and that little limb o'

Satan, that black-eyed, black-nailed, dirty little Jew, Levice! They're not in town, they're out together near this, where a man is to meet them with writings. There's a licence got, Christie Vargers saw Mr. Longcluse showing it to your brother, Sir Richard; and I daren't tell Vargers that I'm for you. He'd never do nothing to vex Mr. Levice, he daren't.

There's a parson here, a rum 'un, you may be sure. I think I know something about him; Vargers does. He's in the room now, only one away from this, next the stair head, and Vargers is put to keep the door in the same room. All the doors along, from one room to t'other, is open, from this to the stairs, except the last, which Vargers has the key of it; and all the doors opening from the rooms to the gallery is locked, so you can't get out o' this 'ere without pa.s.sing through the one where parson is, and Mr. Vargers, please."

"I'll speak to the clergyman," whispered Alice, extending her hands towards the far door; "G.o.d be thanked, there's one good man here, and he'll save me!"

"La, bless you child! why that parson had his two pen'orth long ago, and spends half his nights in the lock-up."

"I don't understand, Phbe."

"He had two years. He's bin in jail, Miss, Vargers says, as often as he has fingers and toes; and he's at his brandy and water as I came through, with his feet on the fender, and his pipe in his mouth. He's here to marry you, please 'm, to Mr. Longcluse, and _there's_ all the good _he'll_ do you; and your brother will give you away, Miss, and Levice and Vargers for witnesses, and me I dessay. It's every bit harranged, and they don't care the rinsing of a tumbler what you say or do; for through with it, slicks, they'll go, and say 'twas all right, in spite of all you can do; and who is there to make a row about it? Not you, after all's done."

"We must get away! I'll lose my life, or I'll escape!"

Phbe looked at her in silence. I think she was measuring her strength, and her nerve, for the undertaking.

"Well, 'm, it's time it was begun. The time is come. Here's your cloak, Miss, I'll tie a handkerchief over my head, if we get out; and here's the three keys, betwixt the bed and the mattress."

After a moment's search on her knees, she produced them.

"The big one and this I'll keep, and you'll manage this other, please; take it in your right hand--you must use it first. It opens the far door of the room where Vargers is, and if you get through, you'll be at the stair-head then. Don't you come in after me, till you see I have Vargers engaged another way. Go through as light as a bird flies, and take the key out of the door, at the other end, when you unlock it; and close it softly, else he'll see it, and have the house about our ears; and you know the big window at the drawing-room lobby; wait in the hollow of that window till I come. Do you understand, please, Miss?"

Alice did perfectly.

"Hish-sh!" said the maid, with a prolonged caution.

A dead silence followed; for a minute--several minutes neither seemed to breathe.

Phbe whispered at length--

"_Now_, Miss, are you ready?"

"Yes," she whispered, and her heart beat for a moment as if it would suffocate her, and then was still; an icy chill stole over her, and as on tip-toe she followed Phbe, she felt as if she glided without weight or contact, like a spirit.

Through a dark room they pa.s.sed, very softly, first, a little light under the door showed that there were candles in the next. They halted and listened. Phbe opened the door and entered.

Standing back in the shadow, Alice saw the room and the people in it, distinctly. The parson was not the sort of contraband clergyman she had fancied, by any means, but a thin hectic man of some four-and-thirty years, only looking a little dazed by brandy and water, and far gone in consumption. Handsome thin features, and a suit of seedy black, and a white choker, indicated that lost gentleman, who was crying silently as he smoked his pipe, I daresay a little bit tipsy, gazing into the fire, with his fatal brandy and water at his elbow.

"Eh! Mr. Vargers, smoking after _all_ I said to you!" murmured Miss Phbe severely, advancing toward her round-shouldered sweetheart, with her finger raised.

Mr. Vargers replied pleasantly; and as this tender "chaff" flew lightly between the interlocutors, the parson looked still into the fire, hearing nothing of their play and banter, but sunk deep in the h.e.l.l of his sorrowful memory.

As Phbe talked on, Vargers grew agreeable and tender, and in about three minutes after her own entrance, she saw with a thrill, imperfectly, just with the "corner of her eye," something pa.s.s behind them swiftly toward the outer door. The crisis, then, had come. For a moment there seemed a sudden light before her eyes, and then a dark mist; in another she recovered herself.

Vargers stood up suddenly.

"Hullo! what's gone with the door there?" said he, sternly ending their banter.

If he had been looking on her with an eye of suspicion, he might have seen her colour change. But Phbe was quick-witted and prompt, and saying, in hushed tones--

"Well, dear, ain't I a fool, leaving the lady's door open? Look ye, now, Mr. Vargers, she's lying fast asleep on her bed; and that's the reason I took courage to come here and ask a favour. But I'd rayther you'd lock her door, for if she waked and missed me she'd be out here, and all the fat in the fire."

"I dessay you're right, Miss," said he, with a more business-like gallantry; and as he shut the door and fumbled in his pocket for the key, she stole a look over her shoulder.

The prisoner had got through, and the door at the other end was closed.

With a secret shudder, she thanked G.o.d in her heart, while with a laugh she slapped Mr. Vargers' l.u.s.ty shoulder, and said wheedlingly, "And now for the favour, Mr. Vargers: you must let me down to the kitchen for five minutes."

A little more banter and sparring followed, which ended in Vargers kissing her, in spite of the usual squall and protest; and on his essaying to let her out, and finding the door unlocked, he swore that it was well she asked, as he'd 'av' got it hot and heavy for forgetting to lock it, when the "swells" came up. The door closed upon her: so far the enterprise was successful.

She stood at the head of the stairs; she went down a few steps, and listened; then cautiously she descended. The moon shone resplendent through the great window at the landing below the drawing-room. It was that at which Uncle David had paused to listen to the minstrelsy of Mr.

Longcluse.

Here in that flood of white light stands Alice Arden, like a statue of horror. The girl, without saying a word, takes her by the cold hand, and leads her quickly down to the arch that opens on the hall.

Just as they reached this point, the door of the room, at the right of the hall door, occupied by Mr. Boult, who did duty as porter, opens, and stepping out with a candle in his hand, he calls in a savage tone--

"What's the row?"

Phbe pushed Alice's hand in the direction of the pa.s.sage that leads to the housekeeper's room. For a moment the young lady stands irresolute.

Her presence of mind returns. She noiselessly takes the hint, and enters the corridor; Phbe advances to answer his challenge.

"Well, Mr. Boult, and what _is_ the row, pray?" she pertly inquires, walking up to that gentleman, who eyes her sulkily, raising his candle, and displaying as he does so a big patch of red on each cheek-bone, indicative of the brandy, of which he smells potently.

"What's the row?--_you're_ the row! What brings you down here, Miss Chivvige?"

"My legs! There's your answer, you cross boy." She laughed wheedlingly.