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Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 29. Scarlett Escapes Under Difficulties

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. SCARLETT ESCAPES UNDER DIFFICULTIES

"Ugh! it's cold," said Scarlett, as he moved away from the window in his mother's chamber, and gave one look round in the gloom at the familiar old place, associated with his childhood and boyish life before he was forced into this premature manhood by the exigencies of the war. "But never mind; I shall soon be warm enough--hot enough, if I am seen and pursued."

He tightened the belt he wore, and drew a long breath, as if about to start running. Then crossing the room softly, he opened the door, meaning, as his mission was at an end, to make a bold quick rush for the secret stair, to open the slide and pass in. If he made a little noise there, the sentry might hear it and welcome, he would discover nothing.

A sudden thought struck him.

"Capital!" he said to himself, joyously. "Fifty men quietly introduced by the secret passage, and led right into the house. Why, we could surprise them all asleep, and the place would be taken without loss of life. What a result to an accidental discovery!"

Then a damping thought occurred.

"No," he muttered; "Fred will have remembered it, and made all safe. Perhaps let us get in, and trap us. He is too clever to leave that place open. He has not had time to secure it yet. What a pity we two are on opposite sides!"

As he thought this, he involuntarily raised his hand to his shortly cut hair, and a look of vexation crossed his face.

"Forward!" he muttered, as if giving an order, and to put an end to his musings; and at the word he was in the act of passing through the doorway, and had taken a step into the corridor when there was a sharp challenge from the sentry down in the hall. But the password was given, and by the sounds it seemed to Scarlett that two armed men had begun to ascend the stairs.

Yes, undoubtedly two, for one said something lightly, and he caught the reply.

"We'll soon see about that."

The words were in a subdued tone of voice, and passing back into the room, Scarlett drew the door after him, leaving a mere crack, so that he could listen.

"Officers going to their quarters," he thought. "I wonder which room they occupy."

He listened, and they reached the top of the stairs, turning to the left, a movement which brought them towards him.

He would have closed the door entirely, but dreading a noise that might betray him, he left it ajar, and stood waiting for them to pass, but only to flush crimson with indignation as a sudden thought struck him in answer to his wondering question.

"They would not dare!" he ejaculated in an angry whisper; and he turned to flee into the farther room, where the servants had been, and where as a rule his sister slept. But as he moved towards it quickly, it occurred to him that there were no such voluminous curtains for hiding behind, and, quick as thought, he darted to his old place of concealment, only just having time to throw the heavy hangings round him as the door was thrust back, and two men strode into the room.

"The cowardly, plundering villains!" muttered Scarlett, and his hands involuntarily clenched, and he felt ready to rush out and face these nocturnal marauders, but he checked the desire.

"Poor mother!" he sighed; "she would not value every jewel she possesses as a featherweight against my safety. They must go, I suppose; but oh, what a delight to make the rogues disgorge!"

"Plaguey dark," said one of the new-comers. "Light enough for what we want to do, my lad. Shut and fasten the door. We don't want any one to share our bit of luck."

"No. Just enough for two. It may be weeks before we get such another chance."

They were evidently well-to-do men, by their conversation, probably officers; and Scarlett bit his lip with rage as he thought of his mother's watch and chain, and the beautiful set of pearls, his father's present to her in happier days. Then, too, there was a case with rings and brooches, beside many other elegant little trifles that would be welcome to a plunderer.

Once more the desire to rush out and face these wretches was strong upon him, but a moment's reflection told him that to do so was to surrender himself a prisoner, and place himself beyond the power of giving valuable information to the general, his father, who might unwittingly come on to his old home and walk into a trap.

"Better lose a thousand times as many jewels," he muttered, "than that. Let them steal, for I suppose my poor mother would not have placed her treasures in a place of safety." He listened breathlessly behind the thick curtain, hoping that the plunderers would be quick and leave, and give him the opportunity to escape.

The chance came more quickly than he had anticipated, for it seemed from the footsteps that the men had gone into the inner chamber, leaving him free to slip out.

His hand was upon the thick fold of the curtain, for all was still in his mother's room, and he was mentally going on tiptoe to the door, when there was a loud yawn from the _prie dieu_ chair close to the bed's head, and a voice almost at his elbow said--

"Well, what's it like?"

"Can't see much; but it seems a cosy little nest, as soft as can be."

"Which will you have, that or this?"

"Oh, I'll stop here," was the reply.

"Then may the trumpeter forget to blow for twenty-four hours," said the voice at Scarlett's elbow, "and the enemy never know that we are here."

"Amen!" came from the further room.

"And, I say," exclaimed Scarlett's neighbour, as he seemed to be moving about vigorously.

"Yes."

"Don't disturb anything. Poor ladies! it's like sacrilege to take possession here; but when there's a soft bed on one side and some straw on the boards of a loft on the other, one falls into temptation."

Clump went a heavy boot on the thick rug, and then another.

"Yes. Goodnight. Don't talk any more," came from the inner room.

"Not I," said Scarlett's neighbour; and there was the sound of a sword-belt being unbuckled, and the weapon laid across a table.

Then, as Scarlett stood there, hot and indignant, he heard the soft sound of stockinged feet crossing the room, and directly after a faint rattle at the door, followed by an angry exclamation, and then by a loud rumbling noise.

"What are you doing?" came from Lil's chamber.

"Pushing something against the door--big table. There's no key."

"Oh!"

The table seemed to be followed by something else heavy, and directly after the occupant of the room crossed to the bed, and it seemed to Scarlett that he threw himself upon his knees for a few minutes.

Then he rose, sighed, and yawned.

"Oh, for dear old home again, and peace," he muttered, and threw himself, all dressed as he was, upon the bed.

"By your leave, Dame Markham," he muttered again, with a sigh of satisfaction. "If you knew how dog-tired this poor soldier is, you would forgive me. Hah!"

There was a long deep sigh, and as Scarlett stood there so closely that he could have laid his hand upon his enemy's head, he felt that he was completely trapped, and that perhaps even to move was to ensure capture.

"What shall I do?" he asked himself. "It will be getting toward morning soon;" and now the necessity for escaping at once seemed ten thousand times more clear.

"He will come in search of me, for he will never think that the enemy can be at the Hall, or if he does, he will come to try and save me, thinking I am a prisoner, and there will be a battle here."

As he listened, trying hard to stifle his breathing and the throbbings of his heart, which sounded so loud that he felt sure he would be heard, the Parliamentary officer turned uneasily upon his bed, muttered something about home, and then his breathing became regular and deep.

When Scarlett had started upon his expedition to see if the enemy were near, and finding that they had taken possession of the Hall, determined to make use of the secret passage and see how his mother fared, he knew that everything depended upon quickness of movement, and that fighting would be of no avail. So he had stripped off buff jerkin and gorget, and placed them, his weapons, cavalier hat, and heavy horseman's boots in the wood where he had secured his horse. Hence he was absolutely defenceless.

He thought of this as he for a moment dwelt upon the possibility of slaying this man as he slept, and so escaping.

But he indignantly thrust from him the treacherous thought, and trusting to the possibility of getting away when his enemy should be sound asleep, he gradually let the curtain fall to his feet.

In the silence of that room the noise made as the thick material rustled down, seemed to Scarlett to be enough to awaken the sleeper, but he did not stir; and after wailing a few minutes, which seemed like an hour, the young Royalist began to move gently from his hiding-place.

The distance he had to traverse was very short, but there was a great difficulty awaiting him--the removal of the table and the other object placed against the door. But the sleeper was sound enough now, and Scarlett's hopes began to rise as, with outstretched hands, he softly touched the stand upon which lay the sword, and then his heart's pulsations seemed to stop, for he kicked against one of the heavy jack-boots in the darkness, and the great stiff leather foot and leg covering fell over with what seemed quite a loud noise, while to his horror Scarlett learned that the door between the rooms was open, so plainly sounded the other officer's voice.

"Anything the matter?" he said; and there was the rustling sound of one rising upon his elbow.

It was the saving instinct of the moment, and it had its intended effect, the boldness of the conception carrying all before it. For, as the officer in his sister's room asked that question, Scarlett covered his face with his hand, and uttered a deep yawn, like that of a half-sleeping man.

For a moment or two he dreaded lest he had betrayed himself, but to his intense delight, as he stood with every sense on the strain, he heard the questioner subside in his place, and Scarlett, with a quick appreciation of his difficulties, seized the opportunity of the man's movement to cover the sound he made as he glided quickly across the room to the door, laid his hand upon the table, and recognised it by the touch as the one which generally stood in the great embayment of the window.

But, just as he touched the heavy carved side, he broke out into a cold perspiration, for there came in a sharp, short, imperious tone--

"Halt!"

"He was not asleep," thought Scarlett; and in an instant he had seized the table to drag it away, when a loud sound from the adjoining chamber made him drop down on his hands and knees, in the expectation of a bullet from a petronel.

The sound he had heard was that of a man leaping from his bed. Then there were the dull soft steps of stockinged feet, and he could hear the second officer enter the room.

"What's the matter?" he said, as he advanced toward the bed where his companion lay.

"Left troop to the front!" came from the bed.

"Poor old fellow!" muttered the second officer. "He cannot even keep this weary work out of his sleep."

Scarlett heard him walk back to the inner room, and as soon as he felt that the door was passed, he began to feel for the second obstacle between him and liberty.

For a few moments he could not make out what it was. He tried softly to left and right, but there was nothing. All he could detect was that the end of the long table was against the door, and then as he rose and stretched his hand across it, he discovered at once what it was--nothing but a heavy oaken chest, which had been lifted up and stood upon the table, to give it weight.

Meanwhile, he could hear every movement of the occupant of the inner chamber, and a dull feeling of despair came upon him, as he knew that to attempt to stir the table, heavily laden as it was, would make so much noise that he would be detected.

"But could I get through in time to reach the stair?" he thought.

Impossible! He would be heard by the officer, and probably by the sentinel in the hall, and with his heart sinking, he determined to make for the window, and drop down from there.

The casement was still open, and crossing softly, he cautiously looked out, to find that a couple of sentinels were marching to and fro to meet every minute just beneath the spot where he stood.

"No," he said to himself, "there is but one road;" and going back to the table, he nerved himself for the effort, and began to draw it softly away by almost imperceptible degrees.

Fortunately for him, the floor by the door was covered by a thick rug, over which the table began to move; but, to Scarlett's horror, it had not passed a couple of inches before there was a sharp crack.

An impatient movement came from the far room, and Scarlett knew as well as if he were present in the broad daylight, that the officer had started up and was listening; but, fortunately at that moment, the heavy sleeper said something aloud and stirred upon the bed.

This was sufficient to satisfy his companion, who lay down again. But it was impossible to attempt more for a time, and the would-be fugitive was forced to crouch there, letting the valuable moments fly, and fretting, as he knew how impossible it would be for him to escape if he waited till day.

At last, with the feeling of despair upon him strongly, he seized the table again, and, lifting one end, drew it slowly towards him, this time finding, to his great delight, that the rug glided with it over the oaken boards, so that he knew that with a little more effort, the obstacle would be sufficiently far away for him to open the door.

Had it been light, he would have seen the danger, but, all he realised was that the table came along more and more easily, and then in the black darkness there was a loud crash, the coffer placed upon the table had, consequent upon its being inclined, glided slowly over the polished surface, till it was right beyond the edge, and then it was but a matter of moments before it overbalanced and fell.

Scarlett heard two loud ejaculations and the leaping of his enemies from their beds; but, quick as thought, he had dragged the door open, bounded into the corridor, and ran to the left to the top of the stairs.

He was in the act of seizing the balustrade, when shouts came from the door he had left. Worse still, he saw a faint spark of light below him, and heard the challenge of the sentry in the hall.

To have tried to escape by the passage would have meant the discovery of the way, for there was not time to get the stair open, so without hesitation, as he heard the alarm spreading, he dashed down the stairs, followed by the shouts of the two officers as other doors were opened, and the noise of gathering feet could be heard.

There was a sharp flash, a loud report, and Scarlett heard the thud in the wainscot beside him as he leaped the last half-dozen stairs, right on to the sentinel, who was driven backward by the force of the blow, while Scarlett darted across the hall, through the porch, and between two of the men stationed outside so closely that they touched him.

"Fire, fire!" roared a voice from the gallery, and matches were blown, and shots went whizzing after the fugitive, who was hard followed by half a dozen of the heavily armed men.

But the darkness held good, and Scarlett had the advantage of knowing every inch of the ground, every bush and clump which could give him shelter; and besides, he was dressed for running, his pursuers being heavily hindered by their thick garments, steel protections, and heavy boots.

Still the pursuit was kept up, and the piquets round, alarmed by the sounds of firing, began to close in.

It was a desperate game to play, but Scarlett played it. He made straight for the lake, and kept as near to its bank as he could for the overhanging trees, till he neared the eastern end, where, with the shouts of his pursuers ringing in his ears, he slowly lowered himself down by the steep rocky bank, stepped silently into the clear water, which looked terribly black and treacherous, waded out a short distance, with the water rapidly rising to his chest, then to his chin, and began swimming as easily as an otter for the opposite side.

It was a cold plunge, but Scarlett did not notice it in his excitement. His mind was too much taken up with endeavouring to swim steadily and quietly, so as not to betray his whereabouts by a splash.

As he swam, he could see lights moving about in the Hall, and he could tell by the shouts that his pursuers were not very far distant, while soon after he began to realise, with a profound feeling of satisfaction, that the men and their leaders had come to the conclusion that they had only to form a line across from the house down to the shore in two places to succeed in capturing him, for the lake would be an effectual bar to his escape in that direction.

"And all the time this is the high-road to freedom," Scarlett said to himself, as he swam on, thinking of how long it would take him to reach the further side, and reaping now the advantage of having acquired an accomplishment in his earlier days, whose value he little appreciated then.

The distance seemed greater than he had reckoned upon, and he had not been in the water for a long time before that night, the consequence being that after he had been swimming about ten minutes, a peculiar weary sensation began to make itself felt in his arms, and a strange aching at the nape of his neck, as if he had been forcing his head too far back so as to enable him to keep his lips and nostrils above the surface.

Then, too, he became aware that swimming without clothes was one thing, with them clinging to his limbs another; and the thought occurred to him, as unpleasant thoughts will, just when they are not wanted, that it was somewhere out here he and Fred Forrester had lowered down a weight at the end of a piece of twine, to find in one spot it was twenty feet, in another twenty-five; but all over this eastern end there was a great depth of water.

It was impossible after that to help thinking about people losing their lives. A boy had once been drowned out there through trying to cross the ice before it was sufficiently strong, and--

A curious hysterical sensation attacked Scarlett Markham just then, and for a few moments, unnerved by the excitement of the evening, he began to strike out more quickly, under the mistaken notion that he would reach the opposite side much sooner; but the fatigue of the effort warned him that he was doing wrong, and growing calmer, he turned over on his back to float for a few minutes, while he diverted his thoughts from his position by forcing himself to think about his pursuers, whom he could hear plainly enough calling and answering each other.

Then once more the thought forced itself upon him that it was terribly deep down below, that he was growing utterly exhausted, and that if he sank and was drowned, no one had seen him enter the water, and his father--his mother--

"Oh, am I such a coward as this!" he muttered angrily. "After being in battle and skirmish, and hearing the cannons roar, I will swim across."

He turned, and will did what will often does, gives to those who are determined powers that others do not seem to possess; and so it came that the rest of the task grew comparatively easy, the bank which in the gloom had seemed to be so distant suddenly loomed over him, with the pendent branches of the birches within easy reach, and a few moments later he was ashore, had climbed the bank, paused to look back, and then started off at an easy run, with the load of water he carried becoming lighter at every step.

Later on, mounted men came round both ends of the lake, and began to search on the further side, but by this time the fugitive was well on toward where he had left his horse and arms, and his dangers lay in front, and not behind.

Long before all this, Lady Markham had arrived at the Manor, with Lil weeping silently at her side. There had been a brief and formal leave-taking, a quick embrace from his mother, and Fred rode back with his detachment, to reach the Hall, take possession of the quarters assigned to him, and after thinking deeply of the events of the night, he dropped asleep. He was aroused by the noise, and heard that the sentinels had fired upon an escaping figure, which had endeavoured to break into the room occupied by two of the officers.

There were those who said it was an attempt at assassination, and others that it was a false alarm, which the ill success of the search-party seemed to confirm.

Then fresh sentinels were posted, and the day soon after began to break with its promise of a glorious morrow, and soon after the first glow of orange in the east told of the coming sun, and as it shone through the casement of a long low room where a pale slight girl was lying asleep, it illumined the handsome sad countenance of one who had not slept, but had knelt there praying for the safety of her son. _

Read next: Chapter 30. A Desperate Gallop

Read previous: Chapter 28. How Lady Markham Left The Hall

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