Dangerous Ground Part 24

"Charlie," says Vernet, "that's a good bit of work, and I'm proud of you. Now, let's make our prisoner more comfortable."

Together they lift Alan, and place him in a chair near the centre of the room. Then, finding it impossible to make him open his lips, Van Vernet begins a survey of the premises.

"We must get one or two of my men here," he says, after a few moments of silent investigation. "Charlie, can I trust you to go back to the place where we left them?"

Charlie nods confidently, and makes a prompt movement toward the door.

Then suddenly he stops and points upward with a half terrified air.

"Some one's up there," he whispers.

"What's that, Charlie?"

"Somebody's there. Charlie heard 'em."

Van Vernet hesitates a moment, looks first at the prisoner, then at Charlie, and slowly draws forth his dark lantern.

"I'll go up and see," he says half reluctantly, and making his pistol ready for use. "Watch the prisoner, Charlie."

But Silly Charlie follows Vernet's movements with his eyes until he has pa.s.sed through the low door leading to the stairway. Then, gliding stealthily to the door, he a.s.sures himself that Vernet is already half-way up the stairs. The next moment he is standing beside the prisoner.

"Hist, Mr. Warburton!"

"Ah! who--," Alan Warburton checks himself suddenly.

"Hush!" says this strangest of all simpletons, in a low whisper, at the same moment beginning to work rapidly at the rope which binds Alan's feet. "Be silent and act as I bid you; I intend to help you out of this.

There," rising and searching about his person, "the ropes are loosened, you can shake them off in a moment. Now, the darbies."

He produces a key which unlocks the handcuffs.

"Now, you are free, but remain as you are till I give you the signal,--ah!"

The tiny key has slipped through his fingers and fallen to the floor. It is just upon the edge of the sc.r.a.p of dirty carpet; as he stoops to take it up, it catches in a fringe, and in extricating it the carpet becomes a trifle displaced.

Something underneath it strikes the eye of the seeming idiot. He bends closer, and then drags the carpet quite away, seizes the candle, and springs the trap which he has just discovered. Holding the candle above the opening, he looks down, and then, with a low chuckle, spreads the carpet smoothly over it, rises to his feet, and listens.

He hears footsteps crossing the rickety floor above. Van Vernet, having failed to find what he sought for aloft, is about to descend.

Stepping quickly to Alan's side, Silly Charlie whispers:

"Fortune favors us. We have got Vernet trapped."

"_Vernet!_" Alan Warburton starts and the perspiration comes out on his forehead.

Is this man who is his captor, Van Vernet? Heavens! what a complication, what a misfortune! And this other,--this wisest of all idiots, who calls him by name; who knows the reason for his presence, then, perhaps, knows Leslie herself; who, without any motive apparent, is acting so strange a part, who is _he_?

Mentally thanking the inspiration which led him to retain his incognito while negotiating with Van Vernet, Alan's eyes still follow the movements of Silly Charlie.

As he gazes, Vernet enters the room, a look of disappointment and disgust upon his face.

"Charlie, you were scared at the rats," he says; "there's nothing else there."

The trap is directly between him and the prisoner, and as he walks toward it, Silly Charlie fairly laughs with delight.

"What are you--"

The sentence is never finished. Vernet's foot has pressed the yielding carpet; he clutches the air wildly, and disappears like a clown in a pantomine.

"Now," whispers Silly Charlie, "off with your fetters, Warburton, and I will guide you out of this place. You are not entirely safe yet."

Up from the trap comes a yell loud enough to waken the seven sleepers, and suddenly, from without, comes an answering cry.

"It's Vernet's men," says Silly Charlie. "Now, Warburton, your safety depends upon your wind and speed. Come!"

CHAPTER XVII.

A PROMISE TO THE DEAD.

Guided by Silly Charlie, Alan Warburton finds himself hurrying through crooked streets and dismal alleys, for what seems to him an interminable distance. Now they run forward swiftly; now halt suddenly, while Charlie creeps ahead to reconnoiter the ground over which they must go. At last they have pa.s.sed the Rubicon, and halting at the corner of a wider street than any they have as yet traversed, Alan's strange guide says,

"You are tolerably safe now, Mr. Warburton; at least you are not likely to be overtaken by Vernet or his men. You are still a long distance from home, however, and possibly the way is unfamiliar. I would pilot you further, but must hurry back to see how Vernet is coming out."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Vernet's foot has pressed the yielding carpet; he clutches the air wildly, and disappears."--page 137.]

For the first time Alan Warburton, the self-possessed, polished man of society, is at a loss for words. Society has given him no training, taught him no lessons applicable to such emergencies as this.

"Of one thing you must be warned," continues the guide. "Van Vernet is a sleuth-hound on a criminal secret, and he considers you a criminal. He has seen you standing above that dead man with a bar of iron in your hand--did you know that bar of iron was smeared with blood, and that wisps of human hair clung to its surface? Never mind; _I_ do not accuse you. I do not ask you to explain your presence there. You have escaped from Van Vernet, and he will never forgive you for it. He will hunt you down, if possible. You know the man?"

"I never saw his face until to-night."

"What! and yet, two hours ago, he was at your brother's house, a guest!"

"True. My dear sir, I am deeply indebted to you, but just now my grat.i.tude is swallowed up in amazement. In Heaven's name, who are you, that you know so much?"

"'Silly Charlie' is what they call me in these alleys, and I pa.s.s for an idiot."

"But you are anything but what you 'pa.s.s for.' You have puzzled me, and outwitted Van Vernet. Tell me who you are. Tell me how I can reward your services."

"In serving you to-night, Mr. Warburton, I have also served myself. As to who I am, it cannot matter to you."

"That must be as you will,"--Alan is beginning to recover his conventional courtesy--"but at least tell me how I may discharge my obligations to you. _That_ does concern me."

Alan's companion ponders a moment, and then says:

"Perhaps we had better be frank, Mr. Warburton. You are a gentleman, and, I trust, so am I. If you owe me anything, you can discharge your debt by answering a single question."