Mistress Penwick Part 23

The sound above stairs was growing more and more noisome, as if the monks were being pressed back in the direction of the secret pa.s.sage.

'Twas evident the Abbes intended this move; for unless there was egress 'twould be a veritable slaughter hole and from the first they had kept together, preferring the direction of retreat.

Suddenly one of the men in front of Buckingham leant down and traced with his finger on the dusty stone,--

"They have moved it in this direction, and there is no mistaking it,"

and he pointed from the ladder.

They followed the direction, holding the light low, and came at once upon what appeared to be a solid stone wall. Inadvertently the man bearing the lighted taper rested his arm for a moment against the stones. Instantly a blaze flared up and showed a very cleverly concocted wall. A canvas had been padded in shape of unhewn stone and painted in imitation; the oil in the paint had ignited and despoiled the illusion.

The blaze was quenched in a moment, the canvas door pried open and the three men pa.s.sed beyond, carefully closing the door behind them.

Buckingham was close upon them.

They fled rapidly along, Cantemir following his servants and ever glancing behind with eyes staring with fear.

Buckingham was not to be caught by fear-staring eyes and kept well in shadow.

The pa.s.sage was narrow with many windings and appeared to be interminable.

The men began to run, which was very incautious under the circ.u.mstances, for in a moment they were precipitated into a small chamber occupied by two stalwart monks. The latter had barely time to throw themselves upon the defensive ere they were attacked.

Cantemir had the advantage, as the monks were enc.u.mbered with their long robes.

Then ensued a short fight, in which Cantemir's men won the day--he remaining well in the background.

One of the servants was wounded and lay helpless upon the floor, his head falling against some object that held him in a semi-upright posture. Cantemir turned with the torch he had taken from the floor, and looked about him, stumbling over the prostrate bodies of the monks as they lay wounded. Noting his injured servant's position, he ran to him, and seeing the thing upon which his head rested, kicked his body from the chest, as if the fellow had been his enemy's dog, instead of his own serving man.

With a cudgel he and his comrade opened the chest, after first finding it too heavy to carry at speed and for an indefinite distance.

Cantemir's eyes waxed big with greed and delight, as he looked within. He spread out his long fingers, as if to grasp all the chest contained.

"These small caskets must be filled with jewels. Anson, fasten the torch somehow and put these in the bags. Here are some rare laces, looted from some dead Croesus, I warrant,--put those in too;--those infernal papers--they can be of no consequence--"

"Then I will take them, my lord," said the servant. Cantemir eyed him with no fondness and slipped the papers within his own bag.

Buckingham, watching them from his little cove in the rocks, caught a sound that made him start. It was very distant and indistinct, yet he was quite certain some one was coming, and without further delay he cried out and drew his sword upon the man nearest him, which happened to be Anson.

The fellow used his sword fairly, but no match for his adversary.

Buckingham run him through before the Russian had regained his presence of mind.

As the unfortunate Anson fell, the Duke turned to Cantemir, who was separated from him by two p.r.o.ne figures and the chest. The Count held the advantage and meant to use it by springing ahead into the opening.

There was no opportunity for Buckingham to either reach him or head him off. Cantemir had caught up the filled bags and was smiling insolently across at him. Buckingham was exasperated, not by the fellow's triumph, but at his own helplessness to cut him off. But there was no time to be lost; those other sounds were growing nearer.

The Duke made a bound toward the opening. Cantemir, with an exultant laugh, sprung also toward the opening, but his laugh was turned into a yell of fear, as his leg was caught in a death-like grip by the servant he had kicked from the chest.

In an instant Buckingham was upon him and binding his arms tight behind; the poor, cowardly knave begging at every breath for his life.

He was completely undone with fright, his heart melted and his knees bent.

"And would it not be thy meed to run thee through also, for serving thy wounded knave with a kick? 'twas inhuman--by G.o.d! 'tis a pity it takes a man with a soul to suffer the tortures of h.e.l.l, for thou wilt never get thy deserts!" He looked down and saw the poor servant's eyes raised to his pleadingly. The Duke drew from his pocket a flask of wine and gave it to him; then gathered the bags that lay filled by the chest and hurriedly looked at their contents. As he did so the wounded knave feebly raised his voice,--

"I will be killed if I am found here."

"Nay, a gentleman--" and he cast a scornful glance at Cantemir,--"would not kick thee when thou art down; say nothing of our most n.o.ble fathers putting to flight what small life thou hast in thee. What is thy name?"

"Christopher," came in weakened tones from his pallid lips.

In another moment the Duke was gone with his looted treasures.

He flew along at a most undignified gait, bearing his pack as a labourer. His shoulders, unused to such burden, grew tired. He began to wonder if the pa.s.sage would never end. He was growing more exhausted than he cared to own, and beside, he apprehended he was pursued.

At last he felt almost compelled to leave one of the bags behind, and stopped to think which, one he should leave. Yet he was a-mind to carry them all if he broke his back; and beside, it was so dark he was unable to tell which was the more important.

As he stood undecided he heard distinctly the fast approach of footsteps. He gathered his strength and bags and flung along, somewhat refreshed by the change of burdens. As he made a turn, the fresh outside air blew upon him. He grew cautious and moved more slowly, listening now in both directions. He might not be overtaken, but some one might be at the opening of the pa.s.sage. There was no light or sound beyond, and soon he stood in the deep darkness of the outer night 'neath dripping trees. Warily he stepped, lest some cracking twig exposed his presence.

He ascertained his surrounding was a thicket, and was about to make his way into its labyrinthine density, step by step; for the way was difficult, when there was a tramping of horses' hoofs upon the rain-soaked road that appeared to be in close proximity.

Under cover of the noise he swept hastily and boldly through the briery bushes that were thickly entangled, and was able to make considerable headway whence he had come, when the noise ceased and a peculiar whistle rang out; then there were a few moments of quiet, as if those who signalled were listening for an answer.

There appeared to be a chaise with several outriders, as Buckingham thought, by the tramp of horses' feet, and a creaking of wheels pulling heavily along.

As he gazed anxiously in their direction, a torch was suddenly set a-glow and a horseman rode up with it to the mouth of the subterranean pa.s.sage. He leant from his steed and examined the ground closely, noting doubtless the footprints that led away from the road and directly to the place where the Duke stood. He turned abruptly back to the group upon the highway and conversed in low tones.

Buckingham was not a little perturbed, for a horseman could with less trouble than it takes to tell it, track and overtake him in a moment's time. He fain would have a few minutes to ease his burden, but his peril was great. There was no doubt but what these men were monks, come to a.s.sist their fellows with the chest and convey them to a place of safety.

Indeed, the secret of the chest must be royal, but whether in jewels or papers he did not know, nor was it the time and place to find out.

If he only knew in which pack was the bone of contention he would certainly lighten his burden.

Again he lifted the bags and strode on lightly, for he still could be heard to the highway, if one should listen.

He had not gone far, however, when there was a shout from the subterranean opening and much confusion following upon it.

The Duke was now thoroughly aroused. Doubtless the monks within the pa.s.sage had at that moment arrived at its mouth, there to make known to their comrades the robbery of the chest's contents. They were in pursuit; he could hear the bushes crackling beneath horses' feet.

Never before had the wily Duke felt so hard pressed. He could afford to be taken himself, for he was sure of a release sooner or later; but his whole being revolted at the idea of losing the riches of his burden and above all--the secret, the secret that would make his fortunes thribble, the secret that would make him more powerful than heretofore. The King's favour would be boundless. And George Villiers turned abruptly and--fell into a swollen ravine that was throbbing with its over-filled sides. He straightened himself to his full height and thanked G.o.d for the stream, for truly 'twas life-giving water.

He waded in and found it hardly came to his waist in the deepest part.

After crossing to its farthest bank, he kept the watery path for nearly a league, thereby throwing his pursuers effectually off the trail. But where his course trended, 'twas impossible to tell, as there was no moon, and the stars were veiled by thick cloud that vomited forth rain in gusts.

The leather bags were very near rain-soaked and had become so heavy 'twas impossible for anything less than a beast of burden to carry them further, so leaving the friendly stream, he walked some little distance from it, gaining to his surprise an open road. This was not what he wished, and was turning from it when he stumbled and fell p.r.o.ne. Being hot with anger and fatigue, he reached for the obstacle that had so unmanned him to d.a.m.n it. 'Twas a large, round knot. It struck his memory, as he held it, with a thought of the morning before.

"_Eureka_!" he cried, as he felt the very presence of the tall tree by the public highway that led from Crandlemar, London way. He arose and reached for the aperture.

"Egad, 'tis there!"

Fortunately the royal tree was not far from the unused cabin that had afforded him accommodation some hours before. He immediately sat down upon the bags and rested.

There pa.s.sed him several hors.e.m.e.n and a chaise; whether they were his whilom companions of the thicket or not he did not care. It was sure they were in haste to leave the village as far behind them as possible.