He almost screeched the words, which told Paola that he was very angry.
The Indian who had led her was now running his hands over her body and she wanted to struggle at the indignity of it.
Then she realised that the Marchese was standing perfectly still as the other Indian searched him.
She therefore lifted her chin and did not move.
The Indian’s hands ran over her legs and searched her shoes, in case the ring was hidden there.
The Big Man was watching all the time
There was no doubt of the fury in his eyes and the tightness of his lips when he realised they could not find what he wanted.
The two Indians looked at him and made a helpless gesture with their hands.
“Now you see you are mistaken and the ring is not with us,” the Marchese said. “I suggest you let me compensate you for your wasted journey so that you can return to where you came from.”
“Do you think that will be enough for me?” the Big Man asked angrily. “That diamond is mine. And I mean to have it!”
There was silence for a moment.
Then he said to Paola,
“Tell me where it is, so that I can take it before I set you free.”
“I cannot tell you that,” Paola replied. “It’s in a place where you would never find it – and locked away where no robber can get it out.”
The Big Man suddenly turned towards her and, bending so that his face was near to hers, he asked furiously,
“Do you think that answer will satisfy me? I have come from one end of the world to the other to take back what is mine. You tell me where it is and how I can obtain it or I will keep you both here until you do.”
Paola shook her head.
“It is – impossible – quite impossible – for you to find it,” she faltered. “If you let me – go back to where it is – then perhaps – we can talk about it.”
“While you send for the Police, I suppose!” the Big Man snarled. “Do you take me for a fool?”
There was silence for a moment, as if he was thinking.
At last he said,
“Perhaps when you are suffering from starvation you will see sense and change your mind. No one will ever find you here and here you will stay until you tell me what I want to know.”
Every word he spoke sounded menacing and instinctively Paola took a step backwards.
“I warn you,” the Big Man said, “if you don’t tell me tomorrow what I want to know, I know of ways and means to persuade you that will be very painful!”
The words seemed to echo round the cellar.
He walked back to the door they had just come though.
“Come on, men,” he said. “We will leave them to think over what I have said.”
As the men moved towards him, he flung out his arm and pointed his finger at Paola.
“You think you’re very clever!” he sneered. “But I shall find what we’ve come for and until I have the ring in my possession, you and your stuck-up partner will stay here without food and without water.”
The way he spoke was so ferocious that Paola felt as if he was striking her.
Carrying one of the lanterns with him and leaving the other behind, the Big Man left the cellar. He was followed by the three Indians.
Paola heard the key turn in the lock and their footsteps as they crossed the next cellar to slam another door.
She stood listening until she could hear them no more.
Then she turned to look at the Marchese.
The scarf had slipped back on her head and, without even thinking what she was doing, she pulled it off.
She was then aware that the Marchese was staring at her.
Paola looked at him.
“I-I am – sorry,” she murmured.
“You were very brave,” the Marchese answered. “I am quite certain that any other woman in your position would have given him the diamond.”
“But – I am not – carrying it!” Paola cried.
“I am well aware of that,” the Marchese answered.
Paola realised that the Indians had been very thorough in their examination and she blushed.
“Incidentally,” the Marchese said, “before we go any further, perhaps you should tell me who you are and where the diamond that is causing so much trouble is hidden.”
Paola thought instinctively that it would be a mistake for him to know too much about her.
“My name is Paola,” she said, “and Hugo Forde asked me to bring the diamond ring to you after he had managed to get it back.”
“He told me that he had done so in a letter that I found waiting for me when I arrived here,” the Marchese said, “but I suppose he was not aware of how dangerous it was for you to be his messenger.”
“I did not think it would be – as dangerous as this,” Paola announced and her voice trembled. “But – somebody must have – read the note – I left for you.”
“That is what I have been thinking,” the Marchese agreed. “It means that there is a spy in my household and that is something I will not tolerate!”
There was a note of anger in his voice.
He still appeared calm and unruffled as he had been even when threatened by the Big Man.
“When I came to the Chapel to bring you the diamond,” Paola said in a low voice, “I caught sight of the Indians, so I – hid the ring, which I – had with me.”
“Where have you hidden it?” the Marchese asked.
“At the base of the candle – I lit to St. Francis,” Paola muttered.
Unexpectedly the Marchese laughed.
“How could you have thought of anything so clever? It is inconceivable that anyone would think of looking there.”
“Nevertheless I am – sure that tomorrow I – shall have to – tell them the truth,” Paola faltered. “Besides, the candle will have – burnt down and the – ring will be exposed.”
“What we have to do,” the Marchese said, “is to get out of this place, but I have no idea how.”
He walked to where the lantern lay and picked it up.
Holding it as high as he could, he examined the walls on every side of the cellar.
They were in bad repair, but even so Paola could see that they were very strong and she was certain that they were so far below ground that, however much they called and banged on the door, no one would hear them.
The Marchese walked to the far end of the cellar.
“There is another door here,” he said, “but our captors obviously thought that they had taken us as far as they could go.”
Paola walked over to join him.
She thought despairingly that, even if this door opened into another cellar, it would be the same as the one they were in now and it would offer no chance of escape.
The Marchese put the lantern on the ground and started pulling at the door.
There was no key in the lock as there had been in the other door and it appeared to be jammed.
It took the Marchese, using all his strength, somehow to pull it open.
Paola could not help thinking it was a waste of time as it could only lead them further underground.
She felt certain that the only way out from the cellars was the way they had come.
The Marchese then pulled up the lantern again and passed through the doorway. Paola could only think that it would be no different from the other cellars.
But because she had no wish to be alone, she followed him.
The ceiling was black and the floor was covered with stones and rubble and there were one or two empty tins, which seemed out of place in the crypt of a Cathedral.
The Marchese walked on saying as if to himself,
“The only people who have been here recently have been workmen, but there seems to be some sort of fireplace.”
He was looking at one side of the further wall as he spoke and Paola, following the direction of his eyes, saw a place where a fire had been lit.
The walls around it had been b
lackened with smoke and there was an opening in the ceiling above it.
“A chimney!” she exclaimed. “I wonder why that was built there?”
“It may well come out on the outside of the building,” the Marchese replied. “But unfortunately I doubt if I could climb up it.”
He looked up at the hole in the ceiling again and Paola did the same.
It was quite a large hole, but she could see that it was too small for the Marchese’s broad shoulders to squeeze through.
Paola looked at it and then looked again.
Then she said in a very small voice,
“I-I think – perhaps – if you will – help me – I could climb up it.”
The Marchese turned to stare at her.
“You? Do you really mean that?”
“I-I could – try,” she said. “It may end abruptly, then again, it might not.”
“I hate to ask you to do anything so unpleasant,” the Marchese said after a moment’s pause. “But what alternative do we have?”
There was a silence until Paola commented,
“I have a feeling that – the Big Man will – come back tomorrow and – t-torture me until I tell him where the ring is – hidden.”
“That is what I thought myself,” the Marchese agreed.
Paola could see by the expression in his eyes how much the idea revolted him and she said quickly,
“Let me – try. It may be – impossible, but if I could – climb up – at least I could fetch – people to save you.”
The Marchese hesitated.
“You are quite certain that you are willing to do this?”
“I am willing to – do anything,” Paola replied, “rather than let that horrible – evil man take the diamond that – almost cost – Hugo his life – not once but a dozen times.”
“I should never have asked him to do such a thing,” the Marchese said angrily.
“I think,” Paola replied, “that it was something he enjoyed – and he is now very proud of.”
She smiled before she added,
“My father has always said that all men like a challenge – and that is certainly true of Hugo.”
“And are you prepared to accept this challenge?” the Marchese asked.
“What have – we to lose?” Paola asked. “And if I fail – perhaps we can find some – other means of escape.”
She thought as she spoke that that was highly improbable.
They were deep underground and locked in.
Yet there had been a fire and the smoke had obviously been able to escape up the chimney.
“Very well,” the Marchese said as if he had been considering carefully it in his mind. “What do you want me to do?”
“I-I am not – certain,” Paola said, “but I must try to – prevent the soot from – going up my nose and into my mouth.”
“Yes, of course. That is sensible,” the Marchese agreed.
He felt in his pocket and drew out a clean white linen handkerchief.
“You had better take this,” he said, “and there is the shawl you had over your head.”
“Yes indeed,” Paola answered, “but you will have – to help me to – tie it tightly.”
The Marchese first tied his handkerchief so that it was over her nose and covered her mouth.
Then he wrapped her long scarf over her head, bringing the ends round under her chin. He then tied it at the back of her neck.
“That is not too tight?” he asked.
“No – not at all,” Paola replied.
It was difficult to speak because her lips were covered by the handkerchief.
The Marchese had arranged the scarf to cover her chin as well and pulled it down over her forehead.
He had in fact completely enveloped her face so that only her eyes showed.
“Try not to let the soot get into your eyes,” he said. “It would sting.”
He looked around.
“If there was a brush, I could clean at least the lower part of the chimney.”
“I will – manage,” Paola said bravely.
The Marchese bent low and looked up through the opening, holding the lantern aloft.
“It appears, as far as I can see, to be fairly wide,” he said, “and there is light at the top.”
Paola took off her shoes.
“I think that unless I remove my shoes – I might slip on the bricks,” she explained. “It will be easier without them.”
The Marchese looked at her.
“Are you quite sure you are ready to do this?” he asked. “It is wonderfully brave of you. I cannot imagine any other woman I know behaving as magnificently as you have since those devils dragged us here.”
He realised as he spoke that Paola was feeling shy at his compliment.
The expression in her strange green eyes with their gold flecks was very touching.
“If you save us,” the Marchese said suddenly, “I shall be quite certain you do not really exist, but are an angel sent by St. Francis to save us from giving the diamond to the robbers.”
He knew by the expression in her eyes that Paola was moved by what he said.
Abruptly, as if he felt that he was wrong to let her take such a risk, he said,
“All right, if you have to do it, let’s get on with it! But for God’s sake be careful when you reach the top that those men don’t see you.”
He lifted her up as he spoke.
As Paola bent her head and went through the hole, he lifted her higher and higher.
She climbed up until she was standing on his shoulders and he knew that she was gripping the sides of the chimney with her hands.
Just for a moment he could hardly believe that what was happening was real.
Then he knew that Paola, whoever she might be, was the most unusual and certainly the bravest young woman he had ever met.
CHAPTER FIVE
Paola could now see clearly the light that the Marchese had spoken about. It was to the left of the chimney above her.
She reached up and managed by scrambling with her feet to be no longer standing on the Marchese’s shoulders.
Pulling herself up higher very slowly and carefully, she drew level with the hole in the wall. It was through this that the smoke had escaped.
She looked out of it hopefully and then almost in despair.
It was at the very end of the Cathedral and below it the ground sloped away from the building and was surrounded by a massive pointed iron fence.
The ground beyond it was rocky and Paola recognised that if she tried to climb down she would be sure to slip.
Even if she was not impaled on the railings, she would at least break a leg.
It was such a disappointment that for the moment she could only just stare down below her.
She felt that in some way she had been misled.
Then she moved her right hand from the inside of the chimney to hold onto the hole.
As she did so, she felt a brick give way beneath it and, looking straight ahead, she realised that while the bricks were black from smoke they were also uneven and there appeared to be a small hole in the centre of them.
She pushed with her hands and the bricks fell down on the other side.
This was at least encouraging.
She went on pushing away at the loose bricks.
Finally the hole now facing her was the same size as the one through which the smoke had escaped.
Now she could peer through it and she saw, although there was very little light, that workmen’s tools were lying about.
She felt her heart leap because this could be a way of escape.
She went on pushing out more and more bricks until it was possible to squeeze through the hole that she had made.
She had some difficulty in doing so and she felt her skirt tear and she also caught her sleeve.
But she squeezed through the hole and into what appeared to be another cellar exactly like the one she had left.
She walked carefully o
ver the floor, which was scattered with the bricks that she had pushed down.
There were also piles of sand and pieces of plaster from the ceiling.
However, she moved as quickly as she dared towards what she hoped was an entrance.
To her delight and joy the door of this cellar was open and she passed through it to another one.
She had to grope her way because now she was in complete darkness.
Then when she felt that she must have walked quite a long way there was a faint light.
A door in front of her was ajar.
Now she was excited, feeling that she had escaped by a miracle and would be able to find help to save the Marchese.
There were several steps ahead of her.
When she went up them she realised that they were taking her back into the Cathedral and she knew that she was now behind the High Altar.
The staircase into the crypt had gone straight down, but this staircase was running sideways.
It was bearing, she thought, to the right side of the Cathedral.
Now she began to move very cautiously.
She was well aware how strange she must look with her face covered and the scarf that covered her head was, like her skirt, black with soot.
What she was really afraid of was that the four men who had imprisoned them were still lingering inside the Cathedral.
If they saw her, they would take her and the Marchese and lock them up somewhere else.
She moved on, stopping every so often to look ahead in case there was someone who would see her.
At the same time she was wondering desperately who she could find to save the Marchese.
It was then she saw in front of her several Confessionals boxes and she knew that this was where she could hide until somebody in authority arrived.
Carefully, very carefully, just in case she was being watched, she moved towards the first Confessional.
There was no one in the pews in front of it and it was, she thought, too early for the hearing of confessions to have started.
When she reached the Confessional box, she stood behind it for some moments.
She peeped down the aisle beyond it, to see if there were any worshippers in the pews.
Worse still, the Indians might be lurking behind the pillars.
There was no one.
With a sigh of relief she slipped into the Confessional box.
In Love In Lucca Page 6
