by W. W. Jacobs
"I've thought it all out. You can run much faster than Ican; any-ways, you will. The nearest 'ouse is arf a mile off, as I said,and her servant is staying till to-morrow at 'er mother's, ten milesaway."
Mr. Travers rose to his feet and stretched himself. "Time I wastoddling," he said, with a yawn. "Thanks for amusing me, mate."
"You won't do it?" said the boatswain, eyeing him with much concern.
"I'm hanged if I do," said the soldier, emphatically. "Accidents willhappen, and then where should I be?"
"If they did," said the boatswain, "I'd own up and clear you."
"You might," said Mr. Travers, "and then again you mightn't. So long,mate."
"I--I'll make it two quid," said the boat-swain, trembling witheagerness. "I've took a fancy to you; you're just the man for the job."
The soldier, adjusting his bundle, glanced at him over his shoulder."Thankee," he said, with mock gratitude.
"Look 'ere," said the boatswain, springing up and catching him by thesleeve; "I'll give it to you in writing. Come, you ain't faint-hearted?Why, a bluejacket 'ud do it for the fun o' the thing. If I give it toyou in writing, and there should be an accident, it's worse for me thanit is for you, ain't it?"
Mr. Travers hesitated and, pushing his cap back, scratched his head.
"I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house," continued theboatswain, hastily following up the impression he had made. "I'd give'em to you now if I'd got 'em with me. That's my confidence in you; Ilikes the look of you. Soldier or sailor, when there is a man's work tobe done, give 'em to me afore anybody."
"'I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house,'continued the boatswain."]
The soldier seated himself again and let his bundle fall to the ground."Go on," he said, slowly. "Write it out fair and square and sign it, andI'm your man."
The boatswain clapped him on the shoulder and produced a bundle of papersfrom his pocket. "There's letters there with my name and address on'em," he said. "It's all fair, square, and above-board. When you'vecast your eyes over them I'll give you the writing."
Mr. Travers took them and, re-lighting his pipe, smoked in silence, withvarious side glances at his companion as that enthusiast sucked hispencil and sat twisting in the agonies of composition. The documentfinished--after several failures had been retrieved and burnt by thecareful Mr. Travers--the boat-swain heaved a sigh of relief, and handingit over to him, leaned back with a complacent air while he read it.
"Seems all right," said the soldier, folding it up and putting it in hiswaistcoat-pocket. "I'll be here at eleven to-night."
"Eleven it is," said the boatswain, briskly, "and, between pals--here'sarf a dollar to go on with."
He patted him on the shoulder again, and with a caution to keep out ofsight as much as possible till night walked slowly home. His step waslight, but he carried a face in which care and exultation were strangelymingled.
By ten o'clock that night care was in the ascendant, and by eleven, whenhe discerned the red glow of Mr. Travers's pipe set as a beacon against adark background of hedge, the boatswain was ready to curse his inventivepowers. Mr. Travers greeted him cheerily and, honestly attributing thefact to good food and a couple of pints of beer he had had since theboatswain left him, said that he was ready for anything.
Mr. Benn grunted and led the way in silence. There was no moon, but thenight was clear, and Mr. Travers, after one or two light-hearted attemptsat conversation, abandoned the effort and fell to whistling softlyinstead.
Except for one lighted window the village slept in darkness, but theboatswain, who had been walking with the stealth of a Red Indian on thewar-path, breathed more freely after they had left it behind. A renewalof his antics a little farther on apprised Mr. Travers that they wereapproaching their destination, and a minute or two later they came to asmall inn standing just off the road. "All shut up and Mrs. Waters abed,bless her," whispered the boatswain, after walking care-fully round thehouse. "How do you feel?"
"I'm all right," said Mr. Travers. "I feel as if I'd been burgling allmy life. How do you feel?"
"Narvous," said Mr. Benn, pausing under a small window at the rear of thehouse. "This is the one."
Mr. Travers stepped back a few paces and gazed up at the house. All wasstill. For a few moments he stood listening and then re-joined theboatswain.
"Good-bye, mate," he said, hoisting himself on to the sill. "Death orvictory."
The boatswain whispered and thrust a couple of sovereigns into his hand."Take your time; there's no hurry," he muttered. "I want to pull myselftogether. Frighten 'er enough, but not too much. When she screams I'llcome in."
Mr. Travers slipped inside and then thrust his head out of the window."Won't she think it funny you should be so handy?" he inquired.
"No; it's my faithful 'art," said the boat-swain, "keeping watch over herevery night, that's the ticket. She won't know no better."
Mr. Travers grinned, and removing his boots passed them out to the other."We don't want her to hear me till I'm upstairs," he whispered. "Put 'emoutside, handy for me to pick up."
The boatswain obeyed, and Mr. Travers--who was by no means a good hand atdarning socks--shivered as he trod lightly over a stone floor. Then,following the instructions of Mr. Benn, he made his way to the stairs andmounted noiselessly.
But for a slight stumble half-way up his progress was very creditable foran amateur. He paused and listened and, all being silent, made his wayto the landing and stopped out-side a door. Despite himself his heartwas beating faster than usual.
He pushed the door open slowly and started as it creaked. Nothinghappening he pushed again, and standing just inside saw, by a small ewersilhouetted against the casement, that he was in a bedroom. He listenedfor the sound of breathing, but in vain.
"Quiet sleeper," he reflected; "or perhaps it is an empty room. Now, Iwonder whether--"
The sound of an opening door made him start violently, and he stoodstill, scarcely breathing, with his ears on the alert. A light shone onthe landing, and peeping round the door he saw a woman coming along thecorridor--a younger and better-looking woman than he had expected tosee. In one hand she held aloft a candle, in the other she bore adouble-barrelled gun. Mr. Travers withdrew into the room and, as thelight came nearer, slipped into a big cupboard by the side of thefireplace and, standing bolt upright, waited. The light came into theroom.
"Must have been my fancy," said a pleasant voice.
"Bless her," smiled Mr. Travers.
His trained ear recognized the sound of cocking triggers. The nextmoment a heavy body bumped against the door of the cupboard and the keyturned in the lock.
"Got you!" said the voice, triumphantly. "Keep still; if you try andbreak out I shall shoot you."
"All right," said Mr. Travers, hastily; "I won't move."
"Better not," said the voice. "Mind, I've got a gun pointing straight atyou."
"Point it downwards, there's a good girl," said Mr. Travers, earnestly;"and take your finger off the trigger. If anything happened to me you'dnever forgive yourself."
"It's all right so long as you don't move," said the voice; "and I'm nota girl," it added, sternly.
"Yes, you are," said the prisoner. "I saw you. I thought it was anangel at first. I saw your little bare feet and--"
A faint scream interrupted him.
"You'll catch cold," urged Mr. Travers.
"Don't you trouble about me," said the voice, tartly.
"I won't give any trouble," said Mr. Travers, who began to think it wastime for the boatswain to appear on the scene. "Why don't you call forhelp? I'll go like a lamb."
"I don't want your advice," was the reply. "I know what to do. Now,don't you try and break out. I'm going to fire one barrel out of thewindow, but I've got the other one for you if you move."
"My dear girl," protested the horrified Mr. Travers, "you'll alarm theneighbourhood."
"Just what I want to do," said the
voice. "Keep still, mind."
Mr. Travers hesitated. The game was up, and it was clear that in anycase the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be disclosed.
"Stop!" he said, earnestly. "Don't do anything rash. I'm not a
