XVI
The Execution
If you pass through the little door that leads to the porterвАЩs lodge (the door will be locked and bolted behind you) your conductor will pass you through yet another door into a yard that is guarded by the ponderous doors of the prison at the one end and by a big steel gate at the other. Through this gate you reach another courtyard, and bearing to the right, you come to a flight of stone steps that bring you to the governorвАЩs tiny office. If you go straight along the narrow passage from which the office opens, descend a flight of stairs at the other end, through a well-guarded doorway, you come suddenly into the great hall of the prison. Here galleries run along both sides of the hall, and steel gangways and bridges span the width at intervals. Here, too, polished stairways crisscross, and the white face of the two long walls of the hall are pitted with little black doors.
On the ground floor, the first cell on the right as you enter the hall from the governorвАЩs office is larger and more commodious than its fellows. There is, too, a suspicion of comfort in the strip of matting that covers the floor, in the naked gaslight which flares in its wire cage by day and night, in the table and chair, and the plain comfortable bed. This is the condemned cell. A dozen paces from its threshold is a door that leads to another part of the yard, and a dozen more paces along the flagged pathway brings you to a little unpretentious one-storeyed house without windows, and a doorway sufficiently wide to allow two men to pass abreast. There is a beam where a rope may be made fast, and a trapdoor, and a brick-lined pit, coloured with a salmon-pink distemper.
From his cell, Manfred was an interested listener, as day by day the uproar of the demonstration before the gates increased.
He found in the doctor who visited him daily a gentleman of some wit. In a sense, he replaced the governor of Wandsworth as an intellectual companion, for the master of Chelmsford was a reserved man, impregnated with the traditions of the system. To the doctor, Manfred confided his private opinion of the вАЬRational Faithers.вАЭ
вАЬBut why on earth have you left them so much money?вАЭ asked the surprised medico.
вАЬBecause I dislike cranks and narrow, foolish people most intensely,вАЭ was the cryptic reply.
вАЬThis SweeneyвБ†вАФвАЭ he went on.
вАЬHow did you hear of Sweeney?вАЭ asked the doctor.
вАЬOh, one hears,вАЭ said Manfred carelessly. вАЬSweeney had an international reputation; besides,вАЭ he added, not moving a muscle of his face, вАЬI know about everybody.вАЭ
вАЬMe, for instance?вАЭ challenged the man of medicine.
вАЬYou,вАЭ repeated Manfred wisely. вАЬFrom the day you left Clifton to the day you married the youngest Miss Arbuckle of Chertsey.вАЭ
вАЬGood Lord!вАЭ gasped the doctor.
вАЬIt isnвАЩt surprising, is it,вАЭ explained Manfred, вАЬthat for quite a long time I have taken an interest in the various staffs of the prisons within reach of London?вАЭ
вАЬI suppose it isnвАЩt,вАЭ said the other. None the less he was impressed.
ManfredвАЩs life in Chelmsford differed in a very little degree from his life in Wandsworth.
The routine of prison life remained the same: the daily exercises, the punctilious visits of governor, doctor and chaplain.
On one point Manfred was firm. He would receive no spiritual ministrations, he would attend no service. He made his position clear to the scandalized chaplain.
вАЬYou do not know to what sect I am attached,вАЭ he said, вАЬbecause I have refused to give any information upon that point. I feel sure you have no desire to proselytise or convert me from my established beliefs.вАЭ
вАЬWhat are your beliefs?вАЭ asked the chaplain.
вАЬThat,вАЭ said Manfred, вАЬis my own most secret knowledge, and which I do not intend sharing with any man.вАЭ
вАЬBut you cannot die like a heathen,вАЭ said the clergyman in horror.
вАЬPoint of view is everything,вАЭ was the calm rejoinder, вАЬand I am perfectly satisfied with the wholesomeness of my own; in addition to which,вАЭ he added, вАЬI am not going to die just yet, and being aware of this, I shrink from accepting from good men the sympathy and thought which I do not deserve.вАЭ
To the doctor he was a constant source of wonder, letting fall surprising items of news mysteriously acquired.
вАЬWhere he gets his information from, puzzles me, sir,вАЭ he confessed to the governor. вАЬThe men who are guarding himвБ†вАФвАЭ
вАЬAre above suspicion,вАЭ said the governor promptly.
вАЬHe gets no newspapers?вАЭ
вАЬNo, only the books he requires. He expressed a desire the other day for Three Months in Morocco, said he had half finished it when he was at Wandsworth, and wanted to read it again to вАШmake sureвАЩвБ†вАФso I got it.вАЭ
Three days before the date fixed for the execution, the governor had informed Manfred that, despite the presentation of a petition, the Home Secretary saw no reason for advising the remission of the sentence.
вАЬI never expected a reprieve,вАЭ he replied without emotion.
He spent much of his time chatting with the two warders. Strict sense of duty forced them to reply in monosyllables, but he interested them keenly with his talk of the strange places of the world. As far as they could, they helped him pass the time, and he appreciated their restricted tightness.
вАЬYou are named Perkins,вАЭ he said one day.
вАЬYes,вАЭ said the warder.
вАЬAnd youвАЩre Franklin,вАЭ he said to the other, and the man replied in the affirmative. Manfred nodded.
вАЬWhen I am at liberty,вАЭ he said, вАЬI will make you some recompense for your exemplary patience.вАЭ
At exercise on the MondayвБ†вАФTuesday was the fatal day fixed by the High SheriffвБ†вАФhe saw a civilian walking in the yard and recognized him, and on his return to his cell he requested to see the governor.
вАЬI would like to meet Mr.¬†Jessen,вАЭ he said when the officer came, and the governor demurred.
вАЬWill you be good enough to refer my request to the Home Secretary by telegraph?вАЭ asked Manfred, and the governor promised that he would.
To his surprise, an immediate reply gave the necessary permission.
Jessen stepped into the cell and nodded pleasantly to the man who sat on the edge of the couch.
вАЬI wanted to speak to you, Jessen,вАЭ Manfred said, and motioned him to a seat. вАЬI wanted to put the business of Starque right, once and for all.вАЭ Jessen smiled.
вАЬThat was all rightвБ†вАФit was an order signed by the Czar and addressed personally to meвБ†вАФI could do no less than hang him,вАЭ he said.
вАЬYet you may think,вАЭ Manfred went on, вАЬthat we took you for this work becauseвБ†вАФвАЭ
вАЬI know why I was taken,вАЭ said the quiet Jessen. вАЬStarque and Fran√Іois were within the law, condemned by the law, and you strike only at those the law has missed.вАЭ
Then Manfred inquired after the Guild, and Jessen brightened.
вАЬThe Guild is flourishing,вАЭ he said cheerfully. вАЬI am now converting the luggage thievesвБ†вАФyou know, the men who haunt railway stations.вАЭ
вАЬIntoвБ†вАФ?вАЭ asked the other.
вАЬThe real thingвБ†вАФthe porters they sometimes impersonate,вАЭ said the enthusiast, and added dolefully, вАЬItвАЩs terribly uphill business though, getting characters for the men who want to go straight and have only a ticket of leave to identify them.вАЭ
As he rose to go, Manfred shook hands.
вАЬDonвАЩt lose heart,вАЭ he said.
вАЬI shall see you again,вАЭ said Jessen, and Manfred smiled.
Again, if you grow weary of that repetition вАЬManfred smiled,вАЭ remember that the two words best describe his attitude in those dreadful days in Chelmsford.
There was no trace of flippancy in his treatment of the oppressing situation. His demeanour on the occasions when he met the chaplain was one to which the most sensitive could take no exception, but the firmness was insuperable.
вАЬIt is impossible to do anything with him,вАЭ said the despairing minister. вАЬI am the veriest child in his hands. He makes me feel like a lay preacher interviewing Socrates.вАЭ
There was no precedent for the remarkable condition of affairs, and finally, at ManfredвАЩs request, it was decided to omit the ceremony of the religious service altogether.
In the afternoon, taking his exercise, he lifted his eyes skyward, and the warders, following his gaze, saw in the air a great yellow kite, bearing a banner that advertised some brand or other of motor tires.
вАЬYellow kite, all right,вАЭ he improvised, and hummed a tune as he marched round the stone circle.
That night, after he had retired to rest, they took away his prison clothes and returned the suit in which he had been arrested. He thought he heard the measured tramping of feet as he dozed, and wondered if the Government had increased the guard of the prison. Under his window the step of the sentry sounded brisker and heavier.
вАЬSoldiers,вАЭ he guessed, and fell asleep.
He was accurate in his surmise. At the eleventh hour had arisen a fear of rescue, and half a battalion of guards had arrived by train in the night and held the prison.
The chaplain made his last effort, and received an unexpected rebuff, unexpected because of the startling warmth with which it was delivered.
вАЬI refuse to see you,вАЭ stormed Manfred. It was the first exhibition of impatience he had shown.
вАЬHave I not told you that I will not lend myself to the reduction of a sacred service to a farce? Can you not understand that I must have a very special reason for behaving as I do, or do you think I am a sullen boor rejecting your kindness out of pure perversity?вАЭ
вАЬI did not know what to think,вАЭ said the chaplain sadly, and ManfredвАЩs voice softened as he replied:
вАЬReserve your judgment for a few hoursвБ†вАФthen you will know.вАЭ
The published accounts of that memorable morning are to the effect that Manfred ate very little, but the truth is that he partook of a hearty breakfast, saying, вАЬI have a long journey before me, and need my strength.вАЭ
At five minutes to eight a knot of journalists and warders assembled outside the cell door, a double line of warders formed across the yard, and the extended line of soldiers that circled the prison building stood to attention. At a minute to eight came Jessen with the straps of office in his hand. Then with the clock striking the hour, the governor beckoning Jessen, entered the cell.
Simultaneously and in a dozen different parts of the country, the telegraph wires which connect Chelmsford with the rest of the world were cut.
It was a tragic procession, robbed a little of its horror by the absence of the priest, but sufficiently dreadful. Manfred, with strapped hands, followed the governor, a warder at each arm, and Jessen walking behind. They guided him to the little house without windows and stood him on a trap and drew back, leaving the rest to Jessen. Then, as Jessen put his hand to his pocket, Manfred spoke.
вАЬStand away for a moment,вАЭ he said; вАЬbefore the rope is on my neck I have something to say,вАЭ and Jessen stood back. вАЬIt is,вАЭ said Manfred slowly, вАЬfarewell!вАЭ
As he spoke he raised his voice, and Jessen stooped to pick up the coil of rope that dragged on the floor. Then without warning, before the rope was raised, or any man could touch him, the trap fell with a crash and Manfred shot out of sight.
Out of sight indeed, for from the pit poured up a dense volume of black smoke, that sent the men at the edge reeling and coughing backwards to the open air.
вАЬWhat is it? What is it?вАЭ a frantic official struggled through the press at the door and shouted an order.
вАЬQuick! the fire hose!вАЭ
The clanging of a bell sent the men to their stations. вАЬHe is in the pit,вАЭ somebody cried, but a man came with a smoke helmet and went down the side. He was a long time gone, and when he returned he told his story incoherently.
вАЬThe bottom of the pitвАЩs been dug outвБ†вАФthereвАЩs a passage below and a doorвБ†вАФthe smokeвБ†вАФI stopped that, itвАЩs a smoke cartridge!вАЭ
The chief warder whipped a revolver from his holster.
вАЬThis way,вАЭ he shouted, and went down the dangling rope hand over hand.
It was dark, but he felt his way; he slipped down the sharp declivity where the tunnel dipped beneath the prison wall and the men behind him sprawled after him. Then without warning he ran into an obstacle and went down bruised and shaken.
One of the last men down had brought a lamp, and the light of it came flickering along the uneven passage. The chief warder shouted for the man to hurry.
By the light he saw that what confronted him was a massive door made of unpainted deal and clamped with iron. A paper attracted his attention. It was fastened to the door, and he lifted the lantern to read it:
вАЬThe tunnel beyond this point is mined.вАЭ
That was all it said.
вАЬGet back to the prison,вАЭ ordered the warder sharply. Mine or no mine, he would have gone on, but he saw that the door was well nigh impregnable.
He came back to the light stained with clay and sweating with his exertions.
вАЬGone!вАЭ he reported curtly; вАЬif we can get the men out on the roads and surround the townвБ†вАФвАЭ
вАЬThat has been done,вАЭ said the governor, вАЬbut thereвАЩs a crowd in front of the prison, and weвАЩve lost three minutes getting through.вАЭ
He had a grim sense of humour, this fierce silent old man, and he turned on the troubled chaplain.
вАЬI should imagine that you know why he didnвАЩt want the service now?вАЭ
вАЬI know,вАЭ said the minister simply, вАЬand knowing, I am grateful.вАЭ
Manfred felt himself caught in a net, deft hands loosened the straps at his wrists and lifted him to his feet. The place was filled with the pungent fumes of smoke.
вАЬThis way.вАЭ
Poiccart, going ahead, flashed the rays of his electric lamp over the floor. They took the slope with one flying leap, and stumbled forward as they landed; reaching the open door, they paused whilst Leon crashed it closed and slipped the steel bolts into their places.
PoiccartвАЩs lamp showed the smoothly cut sides of the tunnel, and at the other end they had to climb the debris of dismantled machinery.
вАЬNot bad,вАЭ said Manfred, viewing the work critically. вАЬThe вАШRational FaithersвАЩ were useful,вАЭ he added. Leon nodded.
вАЬBut for their band you could have heard the drills working in the prison,вАЭ he said breathlessly.
Up a ladder at the end they raced, into the earth strewn вАЬdining-roomвАЭ through the passage, inches thick with trodden clay.
Leon held the thick coat for him and he slipped into it. Poiccart started the motor.
вАЬRight!вАЭ They were on the move thumping and jolting through a back lane that joined the main road five hundred yards below the prison.
Leon, looking back, saw the specks of scarlet struggling through the black crowds at the gates. вАЬSoldiers to hold the roads,вАЭ he said; вАЬweвАЩre just in timeвБ†вАФlet her rip, Poiccart.вАЭ
It was not until they struck the open country that Poiccart obeyed, and then the great racer leapt forward, and the rush of wind buffeted the menвАЩs faces with great soft blows.
Once in the loneliest part of the road they came upon telegraph wires that trailed in the hedge.
LeonвАЩs eyes danced at the sight of it.
вАЬIf theyвАЩve cut the others, the chase is over,вАЭ he said; вАЬtheyвАЩll have cars out in half an hour and be following us; we are pretty sure to attract attention, and theyвАЩll be able to trace us.вАЭ
Attract attention they certainly did, for leaving Colchester behind, they ran into a police trap, and a gesticulating constable signalled them to stop.
They left him behind in a thick cloud of dust. Keeping to the Clacton road, they had a clear run till they reached a deserted strip where a farm wagon had broken down and blocked all progress.
A grinning wagoner saw their embarrassment.
вАЬYou cairnвАЩt pass here, mister,вАЭ he said gleefully, вАЬand there ainвАЩt another road for two miles back.вАЭ
вАЬWhere are your horses?вАЭ asked Leon quickly.
вАЬBack to farm,вАЭ grinned the man.
вАЬGood,вАЭ said Leon. He looked round, there was nobody in sight.
вАЬGo back there with the car,вАЭ he said, and signalled Poiccart to reverse the engine.
вАЬWhat for?вАЭ
Leon was out of the car, walking with quick steps to the lumbering wreck in the road.
He stooped down, made a swift examination, and thrust something beneath the huge bulk. He lit a match, steadied the flame, and ran backward, clutching the slow-moving yokel and dragging him with him.
вАЬвАКвАЩEre, wotвАЩs this?вАЭ demanded the man, but before he could reply there was a deafening crash, like a clap of thunder, and the air was filled with wreckage.
Leon made a second examination and called the car forward.
As he sprang into his seat he turned to the dazed rustic.
вАЬTell your master that I have taken the liberty of dynamiting his cart,вАЭ he said; and then, as the man made a movement as if to clutch his arm, Leon gave him a push which sent him flying, and the car jolted over the remainder of the wagon.
The car turned now in the direction of Walton, and after a short run, turned sharply toward the sea.
Twenty minutes later two cars thundered along the same road, stopping here and there for the chief warder to ask the question of the chance-met pedestrian.
They too swung round to the sea and followed the cliff road.
вАЬLook!вАЭ said a man.
Right ahead, drawn up by the side of the road, was a car. It was empty.
They sprang out as they reached itвБ†вАФhalf a dozen warders from each car. They raced across the green turf till they came to the sheer edge of the cliff.
There was no sign of the fugitive.
The serene blue of sea was unbroken, save where, three miles away, a beautiful white steam yacht was putting out to sea.
Attracted by the appearance of the warders, a little crowd came round them.
вАЬYes,вАЭ said a wondering fisherman, вАЬI seed вАЩem, three of вАЩem went out in one of they motor boats that go like lighteninвАЩвБ†вАФtheyвАЩre out oвАЩ sight by now.вАЭ
вАЬWhat ship is that?вАЭ asked the chief warder quickly and pointed to the departing yacht.
The fisherman removed his pipe and answered: вАЬThatвАЩs the Royal Yacht.вАЭ
вАЬWhat Royal Yacht?вАЭ
вАЬThe Prince of the Escorials,вАЭ said the fisherman impressively.
The chief warder groaned.
вАЬWell, they canвАЩt be on her!вАЭ he said.