Of High Descent Part 65

"Couldn't have been him. He wouldn't have gone there."

The gate swung gently to and the fugitive began to breathe more freely, for, after a low whispered conversation, it was evident that the watchers were about to separate, when there was a loud cough which Harry knew only too well; and to his horror he saw faintly in at the end of the pa.s.sage, his figure more plain by a light in the hall, the short stooping figure of Crampton coming towards him. To have stepped out into the yard would have been into the light, where the old man must have seen him; and, obeying his first instinct, Harry crouched down, and as Crampton advanced, backed slowly along the corridor till farther progress was stayed by the outer door of the office. Harry sank down in the corner, a dark shapeless heap to any one who had approached, and with heart throbbing, he waited.

"He is coming into the office," he thought.

But as the old man reached the opening into the yard he paused. There was a faint rustling, then a flash, and a match flared out, illumining the old clerk's stern countenance, and it seemed as the tiny splint burned that discovery must take place now. But Crampton was intent upon the business which had brought him there. He had stolen out from his self-appointed task of watching over the house to have his nightly pipe, and for fully an hour Harry Vine crouched in the corner by the office door, seeing over and over again the horrors of the past, and trembling as he waited for the fresh discovery, while old Crampton softly paced the little yard, smoking pipe after pipe.

That hour seemed as if it would never end, and at last in despair Harry was about to rise, when he heard Madelaine's voice, gently calling to the old man.

"Hah!" he said softly; "a bad habit, Miss Madelaine, but it seems to soothe me now."

Would he fasten the door and gate, and complete the horror of Harry's position by making him a prisoner? The young man crouched there trembling, for Crampton re-crossed the yard, and there was the sound of two bolts being shot. Then he regained the gla.s.s door, and was about to close that.

"No," said Madelaine softly; "the night is so hot. Leave that open, Mr Crampton."

"Yes, my clear; yes, my clear," sighed the old man. "I shall be in the little room, and nne is likely to come here now."

Gone at last; and trembling so in his wild excitement that he could hardly stir, Harry Vine literally crept along the corridor, rose up and ran across the yard with the horrible sensation that the old clerk's hand was about to descend upon his shoulder. The two bolts were shot back with a loud snap, the gate was flung open; and, reckless now, he dashed out and down the narrow lane.

"He could bear no more," he said. "The harbour and a boat." He ran now rapidly, determined to end the terrible suspense, and for the first few moments he felt that his task would be easy; then he heard a warning shout, and in his dread took refuge in the first alley leading down to the harbour.

Steps pa.s.sed, and he emerged at the lower end, gained the main street by returning through another of the alleys by which, after the fashion of Yarmouth, the little town was scored.

"Five minutes will take me there now," he panted; and, forcing himself to walk, he was hurrying on when a shout told him that his enemies were well upon the alert. With the horrible sense of being hunted, he clashed on, blindly now, reckless as to which way he went, so long as he reached the waterside. As he ran, he was about to strike down to the left where the landing-steps lay; and had he reached them there was a boat and men waiting, but the London detective had discovered that and was on the alert.

Harry almost ran into his arms, but with a cry of rage he doubled back and ran for the sh.o.r.e, where he might set pursuit at defiance by hiding in the rocks below the cliff. But another man sprang up in his way, and in his despair he ran off to his left again, right along the great pier, towards the point.

"We've got him now," shouted a voice behind as Harry rushed out, just conscious of a shriek as he brushed by a group of figures, hardly seen in the darkness. He heard, too, some confused words in which "boat" and "escape" seemed to be mingled. But in his excitement he could only think of those behind, as there came the patter of his pursuers' feet on the rough stones.

There was a shrill whistle from the other side of the harbour, followed by a hail, and the splash of oars in the darkness, while a low "ahoy!"

came from off the point.

"Yes," muttered the officer between his teeth, "you're a nice party down here, but I've got my man."

What followed was the work of moments. Harry ran on till the rugged nature of the point compelled him to walk, then step cautiously from rock to rock. The harbour was on one side, the tide rushing in on the other; before him the end of the point, with its deep water and eddying currents, which no swimmer could stem, and behind him the London officer with the local police close up.

There was a boat, too, in the harbour, and the fugitive had heard the whistle and cries. He saw the light of the lugger out ahead, and to him, in his mad horror of capture, they meant enemies--enemies on every hand.

And so he reached the extreme point, where, peering wildly about, like some hunted creature seeking a way of escape, he turned at bay.

"There, sir, the game's up," cried the officer. "You've made a good fight of it, so now give in."

"Keep back!" roared Harry hoa.r.s.ely. And he stooped and felt about for a loose piece of rock where every sc.r.a.p had been washed away.

"Will you give in?" cried the officer.

"Keep back!" cried Harry again, in a tone so fierce that for a moment the officer paused.

There was another whistle from across the harbour, a shout and a hail out of the darkness, but nothing save the dim lantern light could be seen.

"Now then, you two," said the officer decidedly, "back me up."

There was a faint click as he drew something from his pocket and without hesitation stepped boldly over the few feet which separated him from Harry Vine.

Panting, half wild, hearing the whistles, the cries, and still divining nothing but that there were enemies on every hand, the young man uttered a hoa.r.s.e cry as the detective caught at his breast. With one well-aimed blow he struck out, sent the man staggering back, and then, as those who had watched and waited came panting up, he turned quickly, stepped to the very edge, raised his hands, and plunged into the rushing tide.

"Harry! my son!" rang out on the darkness of the night.

But there was no answer. The black water seemed to flash with a myriad points of light, and then ran, hissing and rushing in a contending current, out to sea.

Volume 2, Chapter XIII.

"THE LORD GAVE, AND--"

"Boat ahoy! Whoever you are--this way--boat!"

"Ahoy!" came back from three quarters--from two different points in the harbour, and from out to sea.

Then came another whistle from far back on the other side of the harbour, and in a shrill voice from between his hands Uncle Luke yelled: "Leslie, another boat, man, for the love of heaven!"

"Here! you there, sir! the nearest boat--quick, pull!" roared the detective in stentorian tones. "Have you no light?"

"Ay, ay," came back; and a lantern that had been hidden under a tarpaulin coat shone out, dimly showing the boat's whereabouts.

"That's right; pull, my lads, off here. Man overboard off the rocks.

This way."

An order was given in the boat, and her course was altered.

"No, no," cried the officer; "this way, my lads, this way."

"We know what we're about," came back.

"Yes, yes; they know," said Uncle Luke, hoa.r.s.ely. "Let them be; the current sets the way they've taken. He's right out there by now."

The old man's arm was dimly seen pointing seawards, but the detective was not convinced.

"It's a trick to throw me on the wrong scent," he said excitedly.

"Here, you"--to one of the local police--"why don't you speak?"

"Mr Luke Vine's right, sir; he knows the set o' the tide. The poor lad's swept right out yonder long ago, and Lord ha' mercy upon him, poor chap. They'll never pick him up."

"Can you see him?" roared the officer, using his hands as a speaking-trumpet.

There was no reply; but the lantern could be seen rising and falling now, as the little craft began to reach the swell at the harbour bar.

Then there was a hail out of the harbour, as the second boat came along, and five minutes after the rapid beat of oars told of the coming of another boat.

"Ahoy, lad! this way," rose from the boat with the lantern.