There was, naturally, much to be said: but, till Mansel returned to the dungeon, there was nothing to be done. And, since the commentary he made, so soon as he heard my news, was far more valuable than the swarm of conclusions which we had drawn out of the matter, I will set it down, using his words.

“A great deal is depending on how much the tanner saw. If he saw two come in the car, the presence of a third must have told him that we have some hiding-place hereabouts: if he saw the relief carrying timber, that should have made him think: but, if he saw the boat cross the river, he must know a damned sight too much. And it was a moonlit night.

“The point is⁠—what will he do?

“His instinct will be to put the innkeeper wise. But the innkeeper is in balk. He will, therefore, endeavour to communicate with him without the knowledge of the thieves. And the only way to do that is through the inn.

“Now, I think it more than likely that now and again the landlord returns to his inn⁠—under escort, of course. Otherwise, long before now, a hue and cry would have been raised. And that wouldn’t suit Rose Noble. About once a week, I imagine, they take him back to the inn: and they give him to understand that, if he gets out of the car, that’s the last living movement he’ll make. Again, he has, without doubt, been straitly advised that upon the first sign of any attempt at his rescue he will immediately die. If they’ve got these things into his head⁠—and, though he can’t speak German, from what I’ve seen of Rose Noble, I should say he was ‘above Babel’⁠—not fifty home-sweet-homes will drag him out of that car; and he probably tells his people that he’s having the time of his life. And that’s the way, I expect, they get their supplies.

“Very well. If the tanner tells the innkeeper, what will the latter do? I think it more than likely that he will give us away. I don’t say he’ll do so deliberately: but the tanner’s tidings will startle him, and, unless he’s alone to receive them⁠—and that is most improbable⁠—the thieves will perceive his emotion and demand to be told its cause.

“The first thing to do, therefore, is to visit the inn. If I had known this last night, I’d have gone there today. As it is, we must wait. I imagine that trouble is coming: but, unless the luck is against us, I don’t think it’s coming just yet.”

And that, for the moment, was as much as Mansel said: but, as later that night I sailed through the sleeping country towards St. Martin, I could not help wondering whether I was not making this now familiar journey for the last time, and, though the next day was fair as a day can be, I had no pleasure in it, and the pastime of fishing seemed to have lost its savour. Yet, I might have spared my concern; for, when I returned to the dungeon, it was to find all well, and throughout the relief we seemed to have the world to ourselves.

That night Mansel and Hanbury visited the track below the combe, but found no sign of water drawn out of the well. When Bell and I were come, we began to take in more wood: by dint of working till cockcrow without a break, we carried all that was left, to our comfort more of mind than of body, for, when it was all underground, we could hardly move.

While we were thus engaged, some fifteen yards of our tunnel started to bulge and had to be shored up before we continued the shaft.

The next day Mansel visited Lerai and ate his lunch at the inn. The landlord’s wife proved only too willing to talk, and the first thing that Mansel learned was that her husband seemed to have thrown in his lot with the thieves, though what in the world they were doing and where they were she could not tell. With that, she had wrung her hands and presently thrown her apron over her head, declaring with tears that, if there was rogues’ company to be had, her lord would be sure to find it, though it lay a day’s journey off: for his mother had been a Roman, and, though she had died at his birth, the blood of lawlessness was in his veins. Then Mansel drew a bow at a venture and, observing that he would have thought that rogues in Carinthia were few, casually spoke of a tanner as the one rustic we had met that had worn the look of a knave. At once the hostess had let out a gush of abuse, avowing that the man and his brother were the black sheep of that part of the land, that her husband knew them well, and had harboured one for a fortnight when a warrant was out for his arrest. On the last two days, she added, the tanner had come to the inn, and, despite her insistence that her husband was away on a journey, had each time stayed for some hours, as though in a hope of his return. But on neither of those two days had the closed car come, as it did from time to time, to take up all manner of food. And here she fell to raving about the strangers’ score, by now amounting to some seventy English pounds, of which not one penny had been paid, declaring that here was the proof that her husband’s union with the thieves was something sinister, for that he was strict as a bailiff where debts were concerned. “However,” says she in the end, “no wind’s so ill that it blows no scruple of good: for the strangers’ ways may be evil, but the tanner’s are worse; and, at least, my husband is out of some villainy, for, now that the tanner has twice gone empty away, I do not think he will return.”

Herein we hoped very much that the woman was right: for, if the tanner’s discovery came to the knowledge of the thieves, our valuable system of reliefs would certainly be imperilled, if not destroyed, to say nothing of the fact that they would instantly know that we were driving a shaft.

I have shown already that, since our brush with the tanner, we berthed the car each night at some different place: but Mansel was not satisfied with this precaution, and presently determined that the relief should always begin at eleven o’clock, and that, from ten o’clock onward, one of the four in the dungeon should watch as much as he could of the opposite shore. This may appear to have been an idle exercise, because the sentry was too distant to see or hear any movement which was made in the danger zone: and I must confess that I did not myself account it worth the expense of a workman⁠—for nowadays we laboured to all hours: but Mansel had given the order, and so it was done.

We had always kept in the dungeon a supply of tinned food, sufficient to last us some days: but this stock we now increased, until, if the worst came to pass, we could live for full three weeks without leaving the oubliette.

However, the days went by and no one troubled us: if the tanner watched us again, we never saw him: the soil at the foot of the gutter was sometimes drenched, but never the marsh we had made it: and, while the enemy’s labour was fitful, and they had, I think, no concerted plan of action, except to deny us the well, we continued to drive our shaft forward with all our might.

And here let me say that we were by now the owners of Wagensburg: for Ellis had let go his option, and Mansel had purchased the place. But I doubt if seigniory was ever so strangely enjoyed⁠—the freeholders having their being, like rats, in the bowels of the earth, and in constant dread of their presence being observed, and their enemies in possession and coming and going and doing just as they pleased.

It was thirteen days to an hour since Tester had bayed the tanner, and Bell and I were engaged at the nose of the shaft, when I heard someone running towards us, and, the next moment, Rowley’s voice. Hanbury desired me, he said, to come to the gallery at once.

Leaving Bell to put out the searchlight and follow me down, I immediately left for the gallery, making what haste I could: but, after the glare of the lamp, I was as good as blind, and the light of the candles which were burning in the shaft and the oubliette, was too feeble to guide my steps.

However, at last I was down, to find Hanbury at the middle embrasure, peering into the night.

His report was disquieting indeed.

“There’s someone across the river: I saw the flash of a torch.”

I do not think either of us doubted that the fat was now in the fire: for that anyone but one of the thieves would be using an electric torch about the quarry, or, indeed, for twenty miles round, was most improbable.

The time was half past ten; and Mansel was due to arrive at eleven o’clock.

Now where he would berth the Rolls we could not tell, beyond that it would be at some place within five hundred yards of the spot we had used as a quay: but, since there were but two roads⁠—the one running south from Villach and into the other, which followed the river along⁠—for the thieves to mark her arrival would be most easy; and, once they had seen her stop and her occupants separate, the most maladroit attack could hardly fail.

There was, therefore, but one thing to do, namely, to try to reach Mansel before the Rolls had entered the danger zone; and, since he was always punctual yet never hurried, it was perfectly plain that, if we were to be in time, we had not one moment to lose.

In a twinkling, our plans were laid.

Hanbury, who was a good runner, was to make the attempt: having swum the river and landed a little downstream, he was to strike across country and head for the Villach road. Bell and I were to follow, but, when we had crossed the river, we should approach the quarry and try to locate the thieves, so that, if Hanbury failed, at least we should be able to offer some other support. Rowley was to be left in charge of the oubliette.

Hanbury was gone in an instant, for he was lightly clad and waited for nothing: but for Bell and me to go unarmed would have been idle, and, since we must wrap up our pistols to save them from getting wet, we stripped and did the same with our clothes, before descending the shoot.

We were soon across the water, and, having made the bank at a place where a gurgling brook ran into the river, were able to dress in its gully without much apprehension of being seen or heard.

Indeed, the night itself was an invisible cloak: I never remember darkness so impenetrable: and there was not a breath of air.

I then did my best to consider what manner of ambush the thieves would determine to lay, but could only decide that the track which led to the quarry and the junction of the two roads were, for the moment, the two most probable points: we, therefore, crossed the road and began to move towards the junction, in the hope of hearing some sound which would help us to a better understanding of what was afoot. The track which led to the quarry ran out of the Villach road.

We had come, so far as I could judge, to within fifteen yards of the junction, when I heard the murmur of a voice a little way off. I at once stood still, the better to hear whence it came, but even as I did so, it ceased. After straining my ears in vain, I went cautiously on, to be instantly checked by a rope, stretched breast-high across the road, and stout enough to stop or disable a car that sought to pass by. This discovery shook me, for it showed that the thieves not only knew what to expect, but intended to take no chance of losing their prey. However, I was thankful to have made it: and, since Bell had with him his knife, we immediately severed the rope and let it lie.

It now seemed certain that, if we went on, past the junction, we should come to another rope, for to bar but one of two doors would have been out of reason: it was also equally clear that we had now come to the verge of the danger zone, and that this lay, roughly triangular, about the junction, with its base running directly from rope to rope, and its apex lying somewhere upon the Villach road.

Since I had no plan of action, to open the road, if we could, seemed plainly the first thing to do: and, with this intent, we picked our way to the river and started to hug its edge, in order to give the junction as wide a berth as we could.

We had reached a point opposite the junction, and, from where I was standing, I could see the pale smear which the Villach road made upon the black of the night, when I felt Bell’s fingers close upon my arm. I suppose his grip was telltale, for, though he breathed no word, in that instant I certainly knew that the worst had happened, and that Hanbury had lost his race.

So we stood, still as death, for five seconds: then I heard the brush of a tyre, as it rounded a hairpin bend.

I have heard it said that, though the approach of a crisis is apt to scatter the wits, its sudden descent will sometimes whip them back into a battle array. So it was with me at that moment: for, though for a quarter of an hour I had been groping feverishly, my disorder suddenly left me, and I saw as clear as daylight what I must do.

At once I drew my pistol and fired twice across the road.

I thought the consequent din would never die; but at last the echoes faded, and we were able to listen for lesser sounds.

The Rolls had stopped.

Now, though we had ruined the ambush, there was still the devil to pay, for I knew the way was too narrow to let the Rolls go about, and that to reverse in such darkness along so crooked a road was out of the question. But it suddenly came to my mind that if Mansel were to switch on his headlights and run for it towards Lerai, that is to say turn to the left at the junction, we should be out of the wood; for the thieves would almost certainly suffer the car to go by in the full expectation that she would be wrecked by the rope. I, therefore, decided to join Mansel as quickly as ever I could and, whispering to Bell to follow, hastened across the foreshore and on to the road.

Pitch-dark though it was, I dared not go directly by way of the Villach road, and we had just started back towards Lerai, when I heard the deep breath of an engine, and then the Rolls coming, with the rush of a mighty wind.

Mansel had divined the best course, and was making his dash. And all would be well, provided he turned to the left. If, at the junction, he turned to the right instead⁠ ⁠…

I know that for one long moment my heart stood still.

Then, throwing caution to the winds, Bell and I turned and raced for the second rope.

The junction was now bright as day, and the car was so close that, had there been nothing to gain, I should not have crossed its path, but have waited for it to go by. I found myself praying that Mansel would turn to the left. As he swooped at the corner I ran clean into the rope, but the Rolls was round and coming before I had opened Bell’s knife. I slashed at the rope like a madman, but before I could cut it right through the car swept by, and, ripping it out of my hand, mercifully snapped asunder such strands as were left.

As we ran in the wake of the Rolls, I heard an ejaculation and then a spurt of high words, but, though I was sure I heard Ellis, I could not distinguish Rose Noble’s masterful voice.

The Rolls had vanished, and I was beginning to wonder whether it would not be wiser to let Bell go on, while I returned to see what the thieves were doing and, if I could, meet Hanbury, when Mansel rose out of the shadows and spoke my name.

I told him my tale.

“I’m much obliged,” he said quietly. “You were up against time and the thieves, and you beat them both. When I am so placed, I hope I shall do as well. I think it likely that Hanbury missed his way: it’s very hard to go straight on a night like this. And that’s why we must get back. Your shots will bring him to the junction, and we don’t want an accident.”

With that, he showed us the boat and the sculls in a ditch, and proposed to take to the water and scull downstream. “For the way of a river,” said he, “is swift and safe and silent, and I was a fool not to have used it before.”

In this he was unfair to himself, for the relief nowadays took up the best part of an hour, four water-journeys having to be made each night: and, if these journeys had been considerably lengthened, we should have been worn out before we could get to bed.

Then he told us that the Rolls was gone, and would not come back that way; but that Carson had orders to be at the culvert at three, and, if no one of us came before four o’clock, to return to Salzburg. Before he went, he would leave a note wedged in the brickwork, to say he was safe, and, when twenty-four hours had gone by, he would come there again. So he would continue to do, until one of us came to meet him or he found a note under the arch.

“And now for Hanbury,” said Mansel: “and then for the oubliette.”

We slipped down the river noiselessly, and, when we approached the bend, at a signal from Mansel, Bell, who was rowing, rested upon his oars. We could hear no sound at all, and, after drifting for a moment, Mansel whispered to Bell to head for the shoot.

So thick was the darkness that Bell, not unnaturally, sculled to the side of the stream and, when he could make out the bank, began to follow this down.

We had just passed the slope of the woods and come to the cliff, when a torch was flashed twice from the bank five paces away. Before we could think, came two flashes from the opposite side.

And that was all.

At once Bell lay on his oars: but, after listening intently, Mansel bade him scull for the shoot.

Almost at once we were there, and Mansel put up a hand and rang the bell.

So soon as the flap was lifted:

“Listen, Rowley,” says Mansel, putting his mouth to the shoot. “Is Mr. Hanbury with you?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you anything to report?”

“Two flashes a moment ago, sir: but nothing else.”

Mansel turned to me.

“William,” he said, “I don’t think we’re out of the wood. To be perfectly honest, I’m altogether at sea. I know neither what to do nor what to think. But what bothers me most of all is⁠—where is Rose Noble? That being so, I’d rather you held the fort. So you go up, and send Rowley down to me. And then we’ll go and find George.”

I did not at all relish the prospect of garrison duty at such a time; for, if trouble was coming, to be mewed up within sound of the skirmish would be well-nigh unbearable. But, since I had nothing to plead but my own reluctance, I stripped with what haste I could, and, two minutes later, Rowley had taken my place.

The night was so dark and so still that, for a moment, I thought the windows were shuttered, and was stupidly astonished to find the timbers gone: and, when I looked out, I might have been gazing into a bottomless pit. However, I took my seat in the middle embrasure and, cupping my chin in my palm, stared resolutely into the darkness, with my ears pricked to gather the faintest sound. But all I could hear was the regular lap of the water against the face of the cliff.

It had all along been in my mind that Mansel and Hanbury would cross: and, when, but a short five minutes after the former had left, the bell from the shoot announced the latter’s return, I was less surprised than provoked by this well-worn trick of Fortune: for there was Mansel gone out on a sleeveless errand into the midst of some danger he could not read, and that at a time when the last thing we needed to do was to play the spy and everything was to be gained by lying close below ground.

However, the milk was spilt: and, since to tread water is a laborious exercise, I lost no time in setting aside the flap and letting the ladder down.

It was immediately clear that George was very near spent, for, when I called to him he had not the breath to answer and when at last he was fairly upon the ladder, he hung there, panting, like a dog on a sultry day. I asked if I should come down, but he took no notice, and, after a little while, he began to ascend. I was alarmed by his demeanour, which was that of the survivor of some catastrophe, and, squatting down at the head of the ladder, reached out my hands to help him out of the shoot.

Now, I had intended to set my hands under his arms, but the moment I touched him he threw an arm round my neck. To save myself from falling I instinctively flung myself back and, since in that instant he heaved, the two of us fell down together on to the flags.

“Thanks very much,” said Rose Noble.

Then I felt the mouth of a pistol pressed tight against my throat.

I can never describe the disgust and the horror I felt: but the brain is a curious member, and, as I lay there on the pavement, with the bulk of his body upon me, I could not help thinking that Rose Noble’s ascent of the shoot was a remarkable feat for a man of his corpulent habit, and wondering how he had made it without the support of an oath.

He was lightly clad, but the clothes he was wearing were drenched; and the absurd conceit that I was in the clutches of some aquatic monster was most repugnant. Nevertheless, I had the sense to lie still: and, after a little, Rose Noble got to his knees.

For a moment he fumbled: then the bright eye of a torch illumined the chamber.

At this my heart leaped up, for, had he desired to apprise Mansel of his entry, he could not have found a surer or swifter way; for all the three windows were open, and their sudden radiance was bound to publish my plight.

Rose Noble got to his feet and bade me do the same. I was glad to obey. Then he stepped back and looked about him.

“So,” he said, after a while. Then he leaned forward and spoke down the shoot. “Bunch.”

“Hullo,” said Bunch from below.

“You saw me ring that bell?”

“Yes,” said Bunch.

“Fetch Ellis and Job over here. When you’re back, ring three times.”

“Right-o.”

Rose Noble straightened his back.

“Pull up that ladder,” he said.

“Not on your life,” said I. “You’ve come to the wrong house.”

I could hardly see him, for the light was full in my face: but I felt his eyes upon mine.

At length he took a deep breath.

Then:

“Stand back,” he said, thickly.

I did so, folding my arms.

At once he straddled the shoot, and, putting the torch in his teeth, with his free hand felt for the ladder and pulled it up. Then he picked up the flap and sank this into its place.

This show of strength surprised me, for the flap was very heavy, and I would never have believed that a man so fat and flabby could have made light of such a task.

Rose Noble took the torch from his mouth and leaned his back against the wall.

“When Ellis comes,” said he, “I shall ask you to show us around. I like to think that you will grant that request.” I said nothing, and after a moment he continued slowly enough. “Nobody likes getting stuck: but, when he’s stuck good and proper, the wise guy swallows his dose. And now, listen to me, you young fool. I’ve taken possession here, and here I stay: so long as I stay, Mansel will remain outside: he’s very welcome to get up that drain⁠—if he can; but, short of the ladder, I don’t believe he’ll try. If he wants the well, he can have it: but I rather fancy he’ll be thinking more about you⁠—they say blood’s thicker than water⁠ ⁠… Well, he’s welcome to think. If he asks me, I haven’t seen you: I found the ladder waiting and came right up.”

“D’you think he’ll believe you?” said I.

“Why not?” said Rose Noble.

I had no answer to make, for, as I spoke, I saw the force of his words. Here truth was stranger than fiction: and Mansel would never believe that I had handed him in.

“And so,” said Rose Noble quietly, “I guess we can count Mansel out.”

“Don’t you believe it,” said I. “He’s made rings round you in the past, and he’ll do it again.”

“Maybe he will,” said Rose Noble. “But unless and until he does, I reckon it’s up to you.”

“Indubitably,” said I.

Rose Noble sighed.

“No fool like a young fool,” he said. Then he leaned forward. “Why put me up, when you haven’t a card in your hand?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Much cry, but little wool,” said I. “Come to the point. Are you trying to do a deal?”

“Yes,” said Rose Noble. “I am. Maybe it’s a shade one-sided; but you gave it that name.” He jerked his torch at the ramp which led to the oubliette. “I’ve yet to see these diggings; but I haven’t played ‘King o’ the Castle’ for a whole raft of years, and I guess it’ll save us all time if you give me the book of the rules. In return, I offer you a painless captivity, a hell of a lot of hard work, and a free pass-out three days after we touch.”

I laughed.

“It is one-sided,” said I, as cheerfully as I could.

“These sort of deals often are,” was the grim reply.

I could not think what to do.

I was unarmed, for I had left my pistol for Rowley when he had taken my place: the other firearms hung upon a wall of the chamber, all of them loaded, but all of them out of my reach. Yet, had they lain by my side, the fellow had me in check; and I knew that, were I to move, he would shoot me down. For all that, my case was nothing to what it must be when Ellis and Job were come. Till then, at least, we were but man to man: but, if Rose Noble was able to bring but one of them up, I was as good as lost: and so was our enterprise. That I must, therefore, take action before they could enter the shoot was very evident, and I saw at once that when he went to admit them was the moment to make my attempt. His torch, of course, was his blessing, and my unspeakable curse: but for this we should have been better matched, for, though he had his pistol, I knew my way about and was, indeed, accustomed to moving in the gallery without any light. I, therefore, determined, something desperately, that, when he stooped for the flap, by hook or by crook I must dash the torch from his mouth, and, if I could not there and then follow up this assault, at least to jump to one side and so out of his ken.

And here it came to me that, so far as his torch was concerned, my luck was indeed dead out; for if ever any one of us went up or down the shoot without saving his torch from the water, whether because he forgot it or took the chance, so surely that torch was useless and would give no glimmer of light until it had been looked to and its battery changed.

So we stood, with the flap between us, I trying to watch Rose Noble behind the glare of the torch, he with his eyes upon mine, and both of us, I fancy, awaiting the throb of the bell.

At length:

“Well,” said Rose Noble.

I moistened my lips.

“There’s nothing doing,” said I. “Of course, you can do me in, but it won’t help you. For one thing, I’m not going to talk: for another, I’ve nothing to say, for⁠—believe me or not, as you please⁠—it’s Mansel and Hanbury together that do the sums. You talk about guys that get stuck: why, you’ve never been anything else. You’ve been stuck at the top of the well⁠—”

“See here,” said Rose Noble thickly, “when I want a ⸻ lecture, I’ll let you know. Meantime I’ll give you a hunch: and that is, get right with God.” The man’s hand was shaking: and I think this angered him, for he let out a frightful oath. “You say you’re not going to talk,” he continued presently. “Well, there’s your right eye gone. I don’t set up for a surgeon, but my hand don’t always shake, and an inch of red-hot wire makes a nice, clean job. And, maybe, when you’re short of a light, you’ll find your tongue: it’s not an operation you’ll find in the medical books, but, by ⸻, I’ve known it work.”

I suppose that the monster saw that his words had shocked me⁠—as, indeed, to be honest, they had; for, while they were dreadful enough, the meaning with which he spoke them was unmistakable: at any rate he laughed hideously⁠—the fat laugh of a satyr, that made my blood run cold.

And, as he laughed, the light of his torch went out.

We were both of us taken by surprise: but for this particular accident he, I imagine, was more unready than I, and, though he fired, he was an instant too late, for I had taken my chance and leaped to the right.

The crash of the explosion covered what noise I made, and, before the racket was over, I was at the foot of the ramp, straining my ears.

I heard him grope for my body and curse when he found me gone. The next moment he fired again, and the bullet parted my hair. He must have fired at a venture; but so good was the shot that it seemed as though he could see, and I turned and fled up the ramp, like a startled hare.

Now, before I had taken ten steps, I saw the faint glow of the candles alight in the oubliette: these I had clean forgotten, but now in a flash I knew that I could not have made a more unfortunate move, for, having escaped from one light, here I was making my way towards another. To make matters worse, as I perceived my mistake, I missed my footing and fell, making the deuce of a noise: and in an instant I heard Rose Noble behind.

There was now nothing for it but to go on up the ramp, for this was far too narrow for me to let him go by: indeed, I fully expected that he would fire again, but I suppose he was minded to husband his shots. I, therefore, went rapidly on and had just decided to make a dash for the candles and put them out, if I could, before Rose Noble could reach the oubliette, when he let out a “Ha” of triumph, which showed me that he had viewed the glimmer ahead.

Now the slightest reflection would have told me that, moving from him to the glow, which was actually framed by the postern at the head of the ramp, I was offering such a target as no marksman could very well miss; and I think he must surely have been upon the edge of bringing me down, when the bell from the shoot was rung. Perhaps he held his hand to hear if it rang again: but, if so, he lost his chance, for I suddenly perceived my folly and fell on my face. As I did so, the bell rang again: and then a third time.

At once Rose Noble began to descend the ramp.

There was but one thing to do, and that was to follow him down. Once Ellis and Job were in, my race was as good as run. So down I went, moving beneath the shelter of the noise that he made⁠—for till you had the way of it the descent of the ramp was a difficult exercise⁠—and racking my brain for some fair opportunity of giving battle.

The rifles and, certainly, two pistols were hanging upon the west wall, that is to say, about three feet from the shoot: we kept them there on purpose that they might be always convenient to anyone leaving the chamber: but, for me, they could not have hung in a more unfortunate place, and I could not think how to reach them without Rose Noble’s knowledge that I was at hand.

Suddenly my heart leaped, and I thought of the wood.

At the eastern end of the gallery lay some timber, for we had not carried it all into the oubliette; and, though a joist was plainly a clumsy weapon to ply within four walls, I was cheered by the thought that it was also a formidable arm and possessed the clear advantage of a considerable range.

I, therefore, made haste to come down to the foot of the ramp, but, as I gained the chamber, I heard Rose Noble setting aside the flap. How he had been so quick I cannot tell, but I saw in an instant that, if I was to dispute the entrance of Ellis and Job, I had not a second to lose. As I groped for the timber, I heard the ladder go down, and at that moment I touched a case of tinned food. This was open. Without waiting to think, I picked up a tin⁠—what it contained I know not; but I think it was fruit⁠—and hurled it with all my might at where Rose Noble must be. I know that it hit him, for he let out a cry of pain: but, before he could fire, I had flung another tin.

The case was full, and I had discharged five tins before I heard him coming with a volley of oaths. Instantly I whipped to the ramp and, as he went by, darted to the opposite wall. In a moment I had a pistol and, as he fired into the timber, I jerked up the ladder and, thrusting my arm into the shoot itself, fired directly into the water below. That this would discourage Ellis I felt very sure; and, since he had no instructions except to ring the bell, he could hardly be blamed, if, after such a reception, he beat a retreat. But there was still Rose Noble: and I knew very well that, though I had prevented his fellows, I had done so at the price of provoking most deeply the wrath of this terrible man. And, indeed, in a moment I heard a sound which told me that what had gone by was a skirmish and that the battle à outrance was just about to begin. I heard the long, heavy breathing of a man who is out to kill.

I had never heard it before: but it is a sound as fearful as it is expressive; and I must honestly confess that, when I heard it, I was frightened to death. However, I tried to take heart by thinking that the odds were in my favour, for now we both were armed and I was not only the more agile, but knew our surroundings as the palm of my hand.

My first impulse was to fire in that direction from which the breathing came: but then I saw that the flash of my pistol would betray me and that, unless I hit him, before I could move, he would return my shot. And there, of course, he had the advantage of me: for, while I knew little of firearms, beyond that they must be handled with infinite care, Rose Noble gave the impression of being as ready with a pistol as are most men with a pen. Yet, strange as it seems, I found his bullets far less dreadful than his presence itself, and the thought that he must be approaching pricked me to make a move.

The first thing I did was to stumble upon the flap, and at once I heard him move forward towards the shoot. Instinctively, I shrank back, to find myself in the corner of the north and west walls. How I had missed the shoot I do not know, but there it was at my feet: I could feel its current of air.

If I did not move now, I was lost⁠—that is to say unless I could kill my man: for I was literally cornered, and, if Rose Noble came on, he would, any moment now, cut off my escape. I, therefore, stole to my left and had come to the first embrasure, some five feet away, when something swept past my chin and, then, lightly touching the wall on my left, sailed horizontally back, missing me this time by a hair’s breadth.

Again I recoiled, thus making my second mistake, for an instant later I knew he had picked up a helve and with this was sweeping the chamber to find me out. The moment the helve had sailed back I should have advanced: but I had let the chance go.

I was now fairly back in my corner, when again I heard the helve touch⁠—this time the wall on my right. This to my horror, for it showed that the cast which Rose Noble was making was almost done and that in four or five seconds the fellow’s terrible instinct would have its reward.

I, therefore, dropped on one knee and set my left hand on the flags, the better to steady my aim: but I knew that the odds were against me, because the moment he touched me he would know where to fire, whilst I could not possibly tell to within some two or three feet.

Rose Noble moved like a cat, giving no sound. Only the helve touched again, this time very close. I could hear the lap of the water and feel the air from the shoot flirting my face. And then, all of a sudden, I saw a bare chance of escape.

The flap when sunk into place, lay flush with the pavement, and so was supported by a ledge running around the shoot, cut out of the stone. This ledge was two inches in width⁠—wide enough to give handhold to a desperate man.

Hardly waiting to pocket my pistol, I entered the shoot, and a moment later I was altogether out of the gallery, yet able to reenter at will, hanging by my hands from the ledge, staring up into the chamber to mark what I could.

I heard Rose Noble above me, tapping all around with the helve: I could hear his breathing quite close, and something wet fell from him on to my upturned face. This was blood: so I knew that I must have cut him with one of the tins. Suddenly I heard him stiffen and hold his breath. Then he turned round; and, as in a theatre, by some trick of production to pretend the coming of dawn, you may see the forms of men grow gradually out of the darkness, so I saw the monster begin to take shape.

He was standing crouched, with his knees well bent and his left leg a little advanced: his great head was up and his jaw jutted out like a peak: in his left hand he held the helve and in his right was his pistol, pointed and ready to fire: his pistol arm was crooked and steady as any rock.

He had but to drop his eyes for them to light upon me: but he did not, keeping them fixed, instead, upon what I judged must be the foot of the ramp.

All this I saw at first dimly, but gradually more and more clear, to my great astonishment; for the effect was magical, and I could think of no earthly explanation.

Then in a flash my brain cleared, and I knew it for the work of the searchlight, which Mansel or Hanbury was carrying down the ramp. They must have entered the dungeon by way of the trap and, hearing no sound from the gallery, were hastening thither in a concern for me which could wait upon no risks.

And here was I out of action: and there was Rose Noble, like a fowler, watching a bird come down into his snare.

There was only one thing to be done.

“Look out! Rose Noble!” I yelled, and let myself go.

It was a rough passage and cost me a lot of skin: but, of course, I fell down like a stone and was, I suppose, under water before Rose Noble had recovered from his surprise. For he never fired.

A moment later I was swimming downstream.

And that was the end of my adventure; for I had hardly landed upon the castle side, when out of the forest came Rowley and asked me if I was unhurt.

At first I thought I was dreaming, but he said that he had come straight from the staircase-turret, after letting the others into the oubliette. His orders were to put back the slabs, destroy every trace of their removal and then lie close in the woods till break of day. He was then to cross the river, and, if he saw a towel in a window, to come to the shoot.

But I would not wait so long, because I feared that, finding me gone, when he had dispatched Rose Noble, Mansel would go out in my quest. So, since the boat was at hand, we at once sculled back to the shoot and there, sure enough, met Mansel about to go out after Rowley and then after me.

“Are you hurt?” said he at once.

“Not a scratch,” said I. “Where’s Rose Noble?”

“Upstream, I think,” said Mansel, climbing into the boat.

Then he bade me go up to the gallery and expect him and Rowley again in ten minutes’ time. When I asked him where he was going, he said, “To bestow the boat.”

When I was up in the chamber, I was not surprised that he had asked me if I was hurt, for, though there was little disorder, blood was all over the place. We afterwards learned that this came from Rose Noble’s head, which I had cut open⁠—most likely with the first tin I threw. And this shows how tough the man was, for all his grossness: for the tin must have weighed three pounds, and I flung it with all my might.

Hanbury had little to tell, beyond that, as Mansel surmised, he had lost his way in the dark and, horrified at hearing my shots, had made at once for the junction to see what was there toward. There he had found Ellis and Job and the tanner and another he did not know. Ellis was raving about the escape of the Rolls and vowing most shocking vengeance against whosoever it was that had cut the ropes; and the four then appeared to be watching the road and the river, in observance of some design he could not comprehend. He had seen the two flashes from the woods, as also had they; and it was Job who had at once repeated the signal. Not long after that, the windows of the gallery had suddenly been illumined, to Hanbury’s horror and the great surprise of the thieves, who seemed too much dumbfounded to utter a word, though the tanner and his fellow let out at once a flood of excited talk. Then Hanbury had left them, to hasten in fear and trembling down to the water’s edge, where he had run into Mansel, himself hotfoot for the boat.

And there, when Mansel returned, he took up the tale.

“Rose Noble was in a boat, moored in midstream. I believe he was there all the time. In his eyes the Rolls was a plum, of which he would have been very glad: but our pithead was the very pie itself. So Ellis was given the job of taking the Rolls: but Rose Noble took on the business of locating and seizing the pithead.

“It was Punter, I imagine, that heard us, as we were sculling downstream, and gave the signal which Hanbury saw Job repeat.

“Rose Noble must have been beside us, whilst you, Chandos, went up and Rowley came down. But, being as shrewd as they make ’em, he held his hand.

“So much for speculation.

“I’ve had some shocks in my life, but the sight of those windows lighted hit me between the eyes.

“We made enough noise embarking to be heard for a furlong or more, but Ellis and Co., I suppose, had no ears to hear. There was no room for Rowley, but he laid hold of the painter and swam behind.

“We missed friend Bunch by inches. I suppose he had lost his direction, for he was sculling downstream. So we came to the shoot. When I saw this was shut, I decided to go for the trap as fast as we could.

“We dropped downstream and landed below the road of approach. I’m afraid we must have broken all Punter’s ‘marks,’ but that couldn’t be helped. Whilst I was forcing the door of the kitchen-hall, George and Rowley ran to the well for rope. They were back with a coil and a blanket before Bell and I had withdrawn the second slab.

“When we were down, we could hear no sound at all. The light we had seen was gone, and I don’t mind admitting that I was deeply concerned. Now a torch always makes you a target; yet I felt I must have light: so I sent Bell off for the searchlight without more ado.

“What then happened you know. But for your warning, Chandos, Rose Noble must have shot me dead.

“As it was, the tables were turned.

“Hanbury sat down in the ramp with the searchlight between his knees: and I took my stand behind him, ready to fire.

“I fancy Rose Noble knew that the game was up.

“To bring us within his range, he was bound to enter the beam: and the moment he entered the beam: he would be certainly blinded and almost certainly shot.

“By way of rubbing this in, I audibly requested Hanbury to advance a couple of feet.

“A moment later I heard him go down the shoot.”

Whilst we were eating some supper, I told my tale over again: but, when Hanbury and I would have discussed the future, Mansel checked us with a yawn.

Then he laughed.

“ ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’ Rose Noble has gone far enough towards murdering sleep. Don’t let us finish it off.”

Then he told Bell to lay his bed, when he made it, across the flap of the shoot.

“I don’t see how they can lift it,” he added slowly: “but tonight has shown me that I don’t know a risk when I see one, so from now on I’m going to turn every stone.”

And then and there I happened to look at my watch. At first I made sure it had stopped, but, when I had checked it with Hanbury’s, I found it was telling the time. This was five minutes to twelve. And since we had been at supper for half an hour, my passage with Rose Noble cannot have taken up more than ten or twelve minutes of time. And that, but for its proof, I never would have believed.

Soon the lights were put out, and we lay down to take our rest: but for an hour or more I could not slumber for thinking of those ten or twelve minutes and how close to death I had come.

And here let me say I was sorry for Rose Noble: for, unconscionable villain though he was, he deserved to have won that trick. To enter the gallery, as he did, was a great accomplishment, and, but for the failure of his torch, he must, I think, have brought us all to our knees. Yet, all he got for his valour was a broken head.