XXXV
Of Our Fortunate Meeting with Captain Trevor
The noise I heard outside the house was caused by the trampling of a horse’s feet on the pavement in front of the door, followed by the jingling of steel and harness as the rider alighted. Then came the sound of footsteps on the threshold, and a man’s voice said, “Hollo, there! what, is the old knave asleep?”
“Nay, nay, noble captain, nay; did you ever know me to fall asleep when there was grist to bring to the mill? But speak low, captain dear, for there is somewhat inside that must not be waked.”
“Ah, and what is it this time, Benny? A fine fat Sheffield merchant? Will he bleed well?”
“Nay, nay,” quavered the old man. “ ’Tis two of those accursed Cavaliers—Heaven’s malediction be upon all of their sort!—that came wandering by this morning.”
“Ah! and drank of thy ale, eh, Benny?”
“Yes, and deeply, I assure you. Oh, I made it strong enough. But now hark ye, captain dear, there are two of them, and one is a great giant of a fellow, yea, head and shoulders taller than Long Dick, but more woodenheaded, I warrant, for he never spoke a word and let his companion do all the talking—oh, a great fellow, but stupid enough.”
“Ay, and the other?”
“Why, the other is an ordinary being, and methinks I have seen him before somewhere. Perhaps it was—”
“Ay, but hast drawn their teeth, Benny?”
“Yes, indeed, captain dear, oh yes. Their swords and pistols are safe stowed, I warrant you.”
“Well, and the booty? You searched them, of course, when they were safe and sound?”
“Yes, and bound,” said the old man. “The great man had thirty guineas in a bag, and a breeches pocket full of crown pieces; and the other had twenty guineas, but no silver. Then there are their horses safely bestowed in the stable, and their trappings, and the men’s clothes and arms, so that old Benny hath not done so bad a day’s work, eh, captain?”
“Excellent, Benny, excellent. And the money, my cock of Egypt, where hast bestowed it?”
“In the usual place, captain dear; oh, in the usual place,” said the old villain, with so much craft and subtlety in his voice that I could almost see his rascally old eyes glinting and gleaming through his white hair.
“Well, but what are we to do with the fellows, Benny?” asked the other man. “The usual thing—four inches of cold steel, and drop them into the well?”
“I should have done it before now,” said the old man; “but the big man is too heavy for me to drag, and then I might have been seen from the hillsides. Shall we do it now, captain dear?”
“Why, is there any hurry, Benny? Will the fellows wake soon?”
“Not they,” laughed the old man. “Not this side of Doomsday, I warrant me.”
“Why, then, let me eat and drink, Benny, and then we will do the necessary deed. Besides, there is Long Dick coming up the valley, and he can bear us a hand if need be. So set out meat and drink, my Trojan, while I stable my steed. Fifty guineas, quotha? ’Tis well, Benny, excellent well.”
Then the sound of horses’ feet went across the yard, and I heard the old man moving about with pots and pans in some apartment next to our own. As for me, a great sweat had sprung out all over me when I heard these bloody murderers so calmly discussing our fate. What was to be done? There I was, tied hand and foot so that I could not move, and Philip Lisle lay still sound asleep at my side, equally powerless with myself. If only I could have freed myself from the ropes which bound me, I would have risen and gone forth, and then and there screwed the old man’s head round until his further chance of maltreating travellers had been gone. But there I was, big enough and strong enough to fight three men of ordinary size, and yet helpless as a child because my arms were tied.
Presently the other man came back from stabling his horse, and I heard the two conversing in low tones in the next room. I heard, also, the clatter of dishes, and wished fervently that the food would choke them both. I thought of all manner of things in those dreadful moments—of my mother, of Rose, of Jack Drumbleforth and Jacob Trusty, of Lucy and Ben Tuckett, and of matters which had happened many a year before and had been forgotten until then. I could see no possible way of escape. Presently the men would come in and run their knives into us, with no more compunction than if we had been sheep, and after that they would throw us into the old well, and leave us to rot. I would have given all I had in the world for the use of my arms at that terrible moment.
After what seemed a long time I heard another horse enter the yard in front, and presently a third voice was joined to the two already engaged in conversation. Then the sweat came out on my brow in great beads, and at every sound as of feet coming our way I trembled with anger and helpless rage. I strained at the cords that bound me, and felt them nip the flesh beneath.
And then an idea suddenly flashed across my mind like a ray of hope. I remembered once being at Doncaster Fair, and watching a man of enormous strength who was showing the people what he could do with his muscles and sinews. First of all he lifted weights, such as bars of iron and lead, and after that he swung heavy clubs about as if they had been mere willow wands. But what the people most admired was the following trick: the man produced a long strand of rope, and bound it tightly round his chest, after which he drew a deep breath, and then, sending out his chest to its full extent, he snapped the rope as if it had been a bit of straw or a woman’s strand of worsted.
Now, I was at that time as strong and mighty of muscle and sinew as any man of the age, and I knew that for every pound the strong man at the fair could lift, I could lift two. And at this terrible moment it occurred to me that now was the time to put forth my great strength and burst the bonds that bound me, so that I might at least have a blow at the villains in the next room before they threw me and my companion into the well.
I contracted my chest and arms as far as I could, and then suddenly expanded them so that the rope cracked again under the pressure. But, alas! there were more strands than one, and they cut into the thick part of my arms so cruelly that I almost cried out with pain. Nevertheless, I was spurred on to make another effort by the voices in the next room, so I drew breath once more, and once more tried to burst the bonds that bound me. I strove and strove and strove until the fire flashed from my eyes, and my chest was like to split, while the straining cords cut into my arms till the blood started and the sweat poured down my face. And then with one last effort the rope snapped sharply, and I sank back exhausted but free.
But there was no time for rest, and I immediately set to work to untie the bonds which confined my feet. This done, I crept over to where Philip Lisle lay asleep, and hastened to release him also. He was so soundly wrapped in slumber that all my tugging at his bonds and rolling him about did not suffice to wake him, and I did not dare to shout in his ear lest the men should hear me. So I withdrew him into the darkest part of the room, and then stole stealthily over to the door, with the intention of crushing the life out of the first man who entered. I had not stood there many minutes, when I heard very soft footfalls approach the door, which was presently unbolted from the outside and then gently opened to the extent of two or three inches. I held my breath and waited, yet my heart thumped so violently against my ribs that I feared it would be heard. However, my hands and arms were ready, and my fingers twitched to be at somebody’s throat.
Then the door was opened a little wider, and I heard the old man whispering as if to someone behind him.
“Fast asleep, captain dear, fast asleep! Don’t you hear how regularly they breathe? Aha, what a nice sleep they’ll have at the bottom of the old well, eh? You made the knife sharp enough, captain dear?”
“Sharp as a needle,” growled the other man. “Go in, Benny, and get it over.”
“Oh yes,” whispered the old villain. “Oh yes, I’m going. Do you hear them breathing, eh? Like children. Eh, eh, eh, how the warm blood will bubble under old Benny’s knife, captain dear! Eh—, sh—sh, my children—sh, here’s old Benny with his—”
As he came stealthily round the door I seized him by the throat and drove his head straight and true against the stone wall behind. I felt the skull crack under my hand, and the man’s body fell limp and lifeless at my feet, without ever a sound passing his lips. Then I caught the glittering knife from him as he fell, and turned on the other two men, who were crowding into the doorway after him, and whose forms I could just make out in the dim light. As I struck out at them they fell back into the kitchen through which we had passed in the morning, and I, following them up with my weapon, was upon them before they could reach the door. But here I lost the knife, which I drove into the doorpost with such force that I could not withdraw it. By that time, however, they had opened the door, and we all three went rolling out on the stone pavement with a hideous clatter. But I was topmost, and before they could rise I had each by the throat and was wondering if I could manage to squeeze the life out of both of them at the same time.
Now, they were both big men and of brawny build, and they no sooner found my hands at their throats than they began to fight desperately for their lives, so that one of them presently forced my hand away from his neck and strove to regain his feet. But my wits were now thoroughly at work, and as this man forced my hand away, I raised his fellow-villain’s head with the other hand and gave it such a knock against the stones that it cracked like an eggshell, and the man stiffened out and lay still. The one who had thought himself free had meanwhile drawn a knife, and I rose just in time to escape a blow aimed at my back. He came at me again as I got to my feet, but there fortunately lay close to hand a thick bar that had once been used as a swingletree, and with this I laid about the fellow’s head and shoulders to such purpose that he suddenly dropped his knife and ran howling for mercy towards the hills.
So now the fight was over, and it had all happened in very much less time than it has taken me to write down this account of it. I went into the house, and finding a lamp burning in a room where the men had evidently been eating their supper, carried it to Philip, who, sleeping amidst all the noise and clatter, had just begun to wake up and rub his eyes.
“Beshrew me, Will!” said he, as I bent over him with the lamp, “I fear I have slept a longer time than I thought to. Where are we, and what am I doing on the floor?”
“Wake up, sir,” said I impatiently. “We have been drugged and well-nigh murdered, and we have lost a whole day.”
He was on his feet in an instant then, and listened attentively while I told him what had happened. Then he took and shook my hand very earnestly.
“Well done, Will, well done indeed!” said he. “Alas! I am much to blame. We ought to have been more cautious of that old man. But let us have a look at our enemies.”
As for the old man, he was dead enough, and I could not for the life of me feel sorry for him, so villainous and crafty had been his conduct towards us. The other fellow lying outside was in bad case too, but not dead, so we lifted him inside the house and put him into a comfortable position, after which we left him and began to hunt for our money, finding it after considerable search hidden under a flag in the cellar. This done, we made for the stables, and lost no time in saddling our horses, for we were both impressed with the idea that there might be more of these murderers, and that the third fellow had fled to seek assistance.
When we led the horses out of the stable and mounted them at the gate, the moon had just risen and the valley was full of clear, silver light. We were about to ride away, when we suddenly caught the sound of horsemen advancing along a bridle-path that lay to the west. Soon we heard the sound of voices, mingling with the clank of bit and stirrup, so that we felt sure there was a troop of horse upon us.
“Draw behind the wall, Will, and let them go by,” said Philip. “If they are of our own party we will hail them: if not, we will let them go in peace.”
So we drew behind the wall of the granary, and the troop came along at a smart walk, and we heard the men laughing and talking.
“Old Benny’s farmstead,” said one of the foremost, “is going to rack and ruin. Let us whistle him out.”
“Nay,” said another, “let the old fox sleep in his hole. I had as lief set eyes on the devil as on his evil face.”
“Forward, lads, forward!” cried a voice from the rear.
“We are not making such speed as we ought. Trooper Baxendale, lead on a little faster.”
Now, I had no sooner heard that voice than I gave a great start, and would have leaped forward if Philip Lisle had not held me with a strong hand. For the voice was the voice of Captain Trevor. “Silence, Will, silence!” whispered Philip. “Do naught rashly. Leave it to me and command thyself. See, here he comes.”
And looking out from the barn wall we saw Captain Trevor distinctly enough in the moonlight, as he rode at the tail of his little troop of twenty men. He passed by us, and then Philip rode out into the lane and hailed him.
“Hola! Captain Trevor.”
He turned sharply and stared in our direction, and his men drew rein and the horses stopped and stood champing their bits.
“Who calls?” said he, as we drew nearer.
“ ’Tis I, your old acquaintance, Philip Lisle, and here is with me Will Dale.”
“Master Lisle—and Will Dale, my dear Will Dale! Gentlemen, indeed I cannot think what brings you into this wild region, but ’tis for my better fortune, I am sure.”
And he leapt from his horse and came hastening to take our hands, and I knew, and was glad to know it, that the terrible suspicion we had fostered against him was groundless. But since he was innocent, who was it that was guilty?