The House Under the Sea: A Romance

by Max Pemberton

whistling fit to crack his lips. Is the young lady comingaboard, sir? No?--well, I'm not surprised, neither, though this shoredo seem a queerish sort of place----"

  I cut him short, and Dolly Venn running round from his place in thegarden I asked him for his news. The thing now was to find a road tothe sea. What could be done for Ruth Bellenden that night was over andpassed. Our chance lay on the deck of the Southern Cross, and afterthat at 'Frisco.

  "What have you seen, Dolly Venn--be quick, lad, for we can't linger?"was my question to him so soon as he was within hail. He answered me bypointing to the trees which border the garden on the eastward side.

  "The wood is full of armed men, sir. Two of them nearly trod upon mewhile I was lying there. They carry rifles, and seem to be Germans--Icouldn't be sure of that, sir."

  "Germans or chimpanzees, we're going by them this night. Where's SethBarker--why doesn't he come down? Does he think we can pass by thehill-road?--the wooden block! Call him, one of you."

  They were about to do this when Seth Barker himself came panting downthe hillpath, and, what was more remarkable, he carried an uncouth sortof bludgeon in his hand. I could see that there had been a bit of arough and tumble on the way, but it wasn't the time for particulars.

  "Come aboard, sir," says he, breathing heavy; "the gangway's blocked,but I give one of 'em a bit of a knock with his own shillelagh, andthat's all right."

  "Is there any more up there?" I asked quickly.

  "May be a dozen, may be more. They're up on the heights looking for youto go up, captain."

  "Aye," said I, "pleasant company, no doubt. Well, we must strikeeastward somehow, lads, and the sooner the better. We'll hold to thevalley a bit and see where that leads us. Do you, Seth Barker, keepthat bit of a shillelagh ready, and, if any one asks you a question,don't you wait to answer it."

  Now, I had resolved to try and get down to the sea by the valley roadand, once upon the shore, to signal Harry Doe, if possible, and, if nothim, then the ship herself as a last resource. Any road seemed to mebetter than this trap of a house with armed men all about it and apistol bullet ready for any stranger that lingered. "Aboard the ship,"said I, "we'll show them a clean pair of heels to 'Frisco and, afterthat, ask the American Government what it can do for Ruth Bellenden andfor her husband." We were four against a hundred, perhaps, anddesperate men against us. If we got out of the scrape with our skins,we should be as lucky a lot as ever sailed the Northern Pacific Ocean.But should we--could we? Why, it was a thousand to one against it!

  I said this when we plunged into the wood; and yet I will bear witnessthat I got more excitement than anything else out of that venture, andI don't believe the others got less. There we were, the four of us,trampling through the brushwood, crushing down the bushes, now lyinglow, now up a-running--and not a man that wouldn't have gone through ittwice for Ruth Bellenden's sake. If so be that the night was to cost usour lives, well, crying wouldn't help it--and those that were againstus were flesh and blood, all said and done, and no spirits to scare aman. To that I set it down that we went on headlong and desperate. Asfor the thicket itself, it was full of men--I could see their figuresbetween the trees. We must have passed twenty of them in the darknessbefore one came out, plump on our path and cried out to us to halt.

  "Hold, hold," shouts he; "is it you, Bob Williams?"

  "It's Bob Williams, right enough," says I, and with that I gave him onebetween the eyes, and down he went like a felled ox. The man who waswith him, stumbling up against Seth Barker, had a touch of theshillelagh which was like a rock falling upon a fly. He just gave oneshuddering groan and fell backwards, clutching the branches. LittleDolly Venn laughed aloud in his excitement, elbowed Peter Bligh whogave a real Irish "hurrugh"; but the darkness had swallowed it all upin a minute, and we were on again, heading for the shore like thosethat run a race for their very lives.

  "Do you see any road, Peter Bligh?" asked I, for my breath was comingshort now; "do you see any road, man?"

  "The devil a one, sir, and me weighing fourteen stone!"

  "You'll weigh less when we get down, Peter."

  "And drink more, the saints be praised!"

  "Was that a rifle-shot or a stone from the hills?" I asked them amoment later. Dolly Venn answered me this time.

  "A rifle-shot, captain. They'll be shooting one another, then--it'sripping, ripping!"

  "Look out, lad, or it'll be dripping!" cried I; "don't you see there'swater ahead?"

  I cried the warning to him and stood stock-still upon the borders of asblack a pool as I remember to have seen in any country. The road hadcarried us to the foot of the hills, almost to the chasm which thewicker-bridge spanned; and we could make out that same bridge far aboveus like a black rope in the twilight. The water itself was covered withsome clinging plants, and full of winding, ugly snakes which caused thewhole pool to shine with a kind of uncanny light; while an overpoweringodour, deadly and stifling, steamed up from it, and threatened to chokea man. What was worse than this was a close thicket bordering the pondon three sides, so that we must either swim for it or turn back the waywe came. The latter course was not to be thought of. Already I couldhear footsteps, and boughs snapping and breaking not many yards fromwhere we stood. To cross the pond might have struck the bravest manalive with terror. I'd have sooner forfeited my life time over thanhave touched one of those slimy snakes I could see wriggling over theleaves to the bottom of the still water. What else to do I had no morenotion than the dead. "It's the end, Jasper Begg," said I to myself,"the end of you and your venture." But of Ruth Bellenden I wouldn'tthink. How could I, when I knew the folks that were abroad on Ken'sIsland?

  I will just ask any traveller to stand with me where I stood that nightand to say if these words are overmuch for the plight, or if I havespoken of it with moderation. A night as black as ink, mind you; mycompany in the heart of a wood with big teak trees all round us, andcliffs on our right hand towering up to the sky like mountains. Beforeus a pool of inky water, all worming with odd lights and lines of bluefire, like flakes of phosphorus on a bath, and alive with the hissingof hundreds of snakes. Upon our left hand a scrubby thicket and a marshbeneath it, I make sure; Czerny's devils, who had shot the poor folkson the Santa Cruz, at our heels, and we but four against the lot ofthem. Would any man, I ask, have believed that he could walk into sucha trap and get out of it unharmed? If so, it wasn't Jasper Begg, norPeter Bligh, nor little Dolly Venn, nor Seth Barker with the bludgeonin his hand. They'd as good as given it up when we came to the pool andstood there like hunting men that have lost all hope.

  "Done, by all that's holy!" says Peter Bligh, drawing back from thepond as from some horrid pit. "Snakes I have seen, nateral andunnateral, but them yonder give me the creeps----"

  "Creeps or no creeps, the others will be up here in five minutes, andwhat are you going to do then, Peter Bligh, what then?" asks I, for asI'm a living man I didn't know which way to turn from it.

  Seth Barker was the one that answered me.

  "I'm going to knock some nails in, by your leave," says he, and withthat he stood very still and bade us listen. The whole wood was full ofthe sound of "halloaing" now. Far and wide I heard question and answer,and a lingering yodle such as the Swiss boys make on the mountains. Itcouldn't be many minutes, I said, before the first man was out on ourtrail; and there I was right, for one of them came leaping out of thewood straight into Peter Bligh's arms before I'd spoken another word.Poor devil--it was the last good-night for him in this world--for Peterpasses him on, so to speak, and he went headlong into the pond withoutany one knowing how he got there. A more awful end I hope I may neverhear of, and yet, God knows, he brought it on himself. As for PeterBligh, the shock set him sobbing like a woman. It was all my work toget him on again.

  "No fault of ours," said I; "we're here for a woman's sake, and ifthere's man's work to do, we'll do it, lads. Take my advice and you'llturn straight back and run for it. Better a tap on the head than a cryin yonder pool."

  They re
plied fearsomely--the strain was telling upon them badly. Thatmuch I learnt from their husky voices and the way they kept close tome, as though I could protect them. Seth Barker, especially, big manthat he was, began to mutter to himself in the wildest manner possible;while little Dolly burst into whistling from time to time in a way thatmade me crazy.

  "That's right, lad," cried I, "tell them you're here, and ask after thehealth of their womenfolk. You've done with this world, I see, and madeit straight for the next. If you've a match in your