New Arabian Nights

by Robert Louis Stevenson

  CHAPTER VIITELLS HOW A WORD WAS CRIED THROUGH THE PAVILION WINDOW

  THE recollection of that afternoon will always be graven on my mind.Northmour and I were persuaded that an attack was imminent; and if it hadbeen in our power to alter in any way the order of events, that powerwould have been used to precipitate rather than delay the criticalmoment. The worst was to be anticipated; yet we could conceive noextremity so miserable as the suspense we were now suffering. I havenever been an eager, though always a great, reader; but I never knewbooks so insipid as those which I took up and cast aside that afternoonin the pavilion. Even talk became impossible, as the hours went on. Oneor other was always listening for some sound, or peering from an upstairswindow over the links. And yet not a sign indicated the presence of ourfoes.

  We debated over and over again my proposal with regard to the money; andhad we been in complete possession of our faculties, I am sure we shouldhave condemned it as unwise; but we were flustered with alarm, grasped ata straw, and determined, although it was as much as advertising Mr.Huddlestone’s presence in the pavilion, to carry my proposal into effect.

  The sum was part in specie, part in bank paper, and part in circularnotes payable to the name of James Gregory. We took it out, counted it,enclosed it once more in a despatch-box belonging to Northmour, andprepared a letter in Italian which he tied to the handle. It was signedby both of us under oath, and declared that this was all the money whichhad escaped the failure of the house of Huddlestone. This was, perhaps,the maddest action ever perpetrated by two persons professing to be sane.Had the despatch-box fallen into other hands than those for which it wasintended, we stood criminally convicted on our own written testimony;but, as I have said, we were neither of us in a condition to judgesoberly, and had a thirst for action that drove us to do something, rightor wrong, rather than endure the agony of waiting. Moreover, as we wereboth convinced that the hollows of the links were alive with hidden spiesupon our movements, we hoped that our appearance with the box might leadto a parley, and, perhaps, a compromise.

  It was nearly three when we issued from the pavilion. The rain had takenoff; the sun shone quite cheerfully.

  I have never seen the gulls fly so close about the house or approach sofearlessly to human beings. On the very doorstep one flapped heavilypast our heads, and uttered its wild cry in my very ear.

  “There is an omen for you,” said Northmour, who like all freethinkers wasmuch under the influence of superstition. “They think we are alreadydead.”

  I made some light rejoinder, but it was with half my heart; for thecircumstance had impressed me.

  A yard or two before the gate, on a patch of smooth turf, we set down thedespatch-box; and Northmour waved a white handkerchief over his head.Nothing replied. We raised our voices, and cried aloud in Italian thatwe were there as ambassadors to arrange the quarrel; but the stillnessremained unbroken save by the sea-gulls and the surf. I had a weight atmy heart when we desisted; and I saw that even Northmour was unusuallypale. He looked over his shoulder nervously, as though he feared thatsome one had crept between him and the pavilion door.

  “By God,” he said in a whisper, “this is too much for me!”

  I replied in the same key: “Suppose there should be none, after all!”

  “Look there,” he returned, nodding with his head, as though he had beenafraid to point.

  I glanced in the direction indicated; and there, from the northernquarter of the Sea-Wood, beheld a thin column of smoke rising steadilyagainst the now cloudless sky.

  “Northmour,” I said (we still continued to talk in whispers), “it is notpossible to endure this suspense. I prefer death fifty times over. Stayyou here to watch the pavilion; I will go forward and make sure, if Ihave to walk right into their camp.”

  He looked once again all round him with puckered eyes, and then noddedassentingly to my proposal.

  My heart beat like a sledge-hammer as I set out walking rapidly in thedirection of the smoke; and, though up to that moment I had felt chilland shivering, I was suddenly conscious of a glow of heat over all mybody. The ground in this direction was very uneven; a hundred men mighthave lain hidden in as many square yards about my path. But I had notpractised the business in vain, chose such routes as cut at the very rootof concealment, and, by keeping along the most convenient ridges,commanded several hollows at a time. It was not long before I wasrewarded for my caution. Coming suddenly on to a mound somewhat moreelevated than the surrounding hummocks, I saw, not thirty yards away, aman bent almost double, and running as fast as his attitude permitted,along the bottom of a gully. I had dislodged one of the spies from hisambush. As soon as I sighted him, I called loudly both in English andItalian; and he, seeing concealment was no longer possible, straightenedhimself out, leaped from the gully, and made off as straight as an arrowfor the borders of the wood.

  It was none of my business to pursue; I had learned what I wanted—that wewere beleaguered and watched in the pavilion; and I returned at once, andwalking as nearly as possible in my old footsteps, to where Northmourawaited me beside the despatch-box. He was even paler than when I hadleft him, and his voice shook a little.

  “Could you see what he was like?” he asked.

  “He kept his back turned,” I replied.

  “Let us get into the house, Frank. I don’t think I’m a coward, but I canstand no more of this,” he whispered.

  All was still and sunshiny about the pavilion as we turned to re-enterit; even the gulls had flown in a wider circuit, and were seen flickeringalong the beach and sand-hills; and this loneliness terrified me morethan a regiment under arms. It was not until the door was barricadedthat I could draw a full inspiration and relieve the weight that lay uponmy bosom. Northmour and I exchanged a steady glance; and I suppose eachmade his own reflections on the white and startled aspect of the other.

  “You were right,” I said. “All is over. Shake hands, old man, for thelast time.”

  “Yes,” replied he, “I will shake hands; for, as sure as I am here, I bearno malice. But, remember, if, by some impossible accident, we shouldgive the slip to these blackguards, I’ll take the upper hand of you byfair or foul.”

  “Oh,” said I, “you weary me!”

  He seemed hurt, and walked away in silence to the foot of the stairs,where he paused.

  “You do not understand,” said he. “I am not a swindler, and I guardmyself; that is all. It may weary you or not, Mr. Cassilis, I do notcare a rush; I speak for my own satisfaction, and not for your amusement.You had better go upstairs and court the girl; for my part, I stay here.”

  “And I stay with you,” I returned. “Do you think I would steal a march,even with your permission?”

  “Frank,” he said, smiling, “it’s a pity you are an ass, for you have themakings of a man. I think I must be _fey_ to-day; you cannot irritate meeven when you try. Do you know,” he continued softly, “I think we arethe two most miserable men in England, you and I? we have got on tothirty without wife or child, or so much as a shop to look after—poor,pitiful, lost devils, both! And now we clash about a girl! As if therewere not several millions in the United Kingdom! Ah, Frank, Frank, theone who loses this throw, be it you or me, he has my pity! It werebetter for him—how does the Bible say?—that a millstone were hanged abouthis neck and he were cast into the depth of the sea. Let us take adrink,” he concluded suddenly, but without any levity of tone.

  I was touched by his words, and consented. He sat down on the table inthe dining-room, and held up the glass of sherry to his eye.

  “If you beat me, Frank,” he said, “I shall take to drink. What will youdo, if it goes the other way?”

  “God knows,” I returned.

  “Well,” said he, “here is a toast in the meantime: ‘_Italia irredenta_!’”

  The remainder of the day was passed in the same dreadful tedium andsuspense. I laid the table for dinner, while Northmour and Claraprepared the meal together in
the kitchen. I could hear their talk as Iwent to and fro, and was surprised to find it ran all the time uponmyself. Northmour again bracketed us together, and rallied Clara on achoice of husbands; but he continued to speak of me with some feeling,and uttered nothing to my prejudice unless he included himself in thecondemnation. This awakened a sense of gratitude in my heart, whichcombined with the immediateness of our peril to fill my eyes with tears.After all, I thought—and perhaps the thought was laughably vain—we werehere three very noble human beings to perish in defence of a thievingbanker.

  Before we sat down to table, I looked forth from an upstairs window. Theday was beginning to decline; the links were utterly deserted; thedespatch-box still lay untouched where we had left it hours before.

  Mr. Huddlestone, in a long yellow dressing-gown, took one end of thetable, Clara the other; while Northmour and I faced each other from thesides. The lamp was brightly trimmed; the wine was good; the viands,although mostly cold, excellent of their sort. We seemed to have agreedtacitly; all reference to the impending catastrophe was carefullyavoided; and, considering our tragic circumstances, we made a merrierparty than could have been expected. From time to time, it is true,Northmour or I would rise from table and make a round of the defences;and, on each of these occasions, Mr. Huddlestone was recalled to a senseof his tragic predicament, glanced up with ghastly eyes, and bore for aninstant on his countenance the stamp of terror. But he hastened to emptyhis glass, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, and joined again inthe conversation.

  I was astonished at the wit and information he displayed. Mr.Huddlestone’s was certainly no ordinary character; he had read andobserved for himself; his gifts were sound; and, though I could neverhave learned to love the man, I began to understand his success inbusiness, and the great respect in which he had been held before hisfailure. He had, above all, the talent of society; and though I neverheard him speak but on this one and most unfavourable occasion, I set himdown among the most brilliant conversationalists I ever met.

  He was relating with great gusto, and seemingly no feeling of shame, themanœuvres of a scoundrelly commission merchant whom he had known andstudied in his youth, and we were all listening with an odd mixture ofmirth and embarrassment when our little party was brought abruptly to anend in the most startling manner.

  A noise like that of a wet finger on the window-pane interrupted Mr.Huddlestone’s tale; and in an instant we were all four as white as paper,and sat tongue-tied and motionless round the table.

  “A snail,” I said at last; for I had heard that these animals make anoise somewhat similar in character.

  “Snail be d—d!” said Northmour. “Hush!”

  The same sound was repeated twice at regular intervals; and then aformidable voice shouted through the shutters the Italian word“_Traditore_!”

  Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air; his eyelids quivered; nextmoment he fell insensible below the table. Northmour and I had each runto the armoury and seized a gun. Clara was on her feet with her hand ather throat.

  So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of attack was certainlycome; but second passed after second, and all but the surf remainedsilent in the neighbourhood of the pavilion.

  “Quick,” said Northmour; “upstairs with him before they come.”