Stiven was to tap on the door, if the noise we made was louder than he thought safe, but he afterwards said that, because of the rustle of the water, had he not known we were working, he would not have noticed the sound.
The floor of the loft was of oak, and forty minutes went by before we had cut an opening through which a man’s body could pass. Then Hubert went up and I followed, to find, twenty feet to our right, a heavy trap-door. Happily this was not fast, and when we had lifted it up, we saw a coach-house below us and a ladder clamped to the wall.
We descended to find two cars—one was a light, open car and the other a sturdy van—and passing these we entered the harness-room. This was now the chauffeur’s workshop, and the cases were full of spare parts and such tools as mechanics employ. I never have seen such good order: but, what was more to the point, on the leaves of an open diary were lying the keys of the Rolls.
An instant later we had entered the second coach-house and were standing beside our prize.
Full half an hour went by before we were ready to leave, for Palin insisted that we must cover our tracks, “for so,” he said, “we shall turn this theft into a feat which will not only trouble Harris but will make the real John Ferrers a power in the servants’ eyes.”
Working as fast as we could, we did as he said.
We stained the edges of the floor boards which we had cut and, screwing them on to two battens, made them a proper trap-door: once they were back in their place, no one below would have dreamed that they had been moved. We swept up the dust we had made and wiped and restored to their places the tools we had used: and when the Rolls was out, Hubert barred the doors and made his way back through the loft to the carpenter’s shop.
Here I will set out the letter which we left lying on the diary for the chauffeur to find. It was, of course, written in German by Palin’s hand.
To the chauffeur.
I have taken my car because I have need of it. On our way from England my cousin and I were robbed of all that we had by the man whom you believe to be John Ferrers, my great-uncle’s heir-at-law. He is nothing of the kind. He is the brother of Harris, my great-uncle’s secretary. When he knows that the Rolls is gone, he will know who has taken it and he will be afraid. Because of this he will not report the theft to the police. I shall return very soon with Mr. Constable.
John Ferrers.
“All ready?” breathed Hubert beside me, with his hand upon a spare wheel. “We’d better not start the engine until we’re over the bridge.”
I told him that the engine was running and bade him get on to the step.
An instant later we had passed under the archway and on to the road.
The hired car was as we had left her eight hours before.
By the time we had eaten and drunk it was half-past two, and after a little discussion, Hubert and Palin took their seats in the Rolls, while Stiven and I climbed into the second car. My cousin had suggested that we should precede the Rolls, but that would have meant laying stripes on four instead of on two, so he and Palin sailed off, while Stiven and I came pounding along behind. A moment later we saw the last of their lights.
As we had half expected, our progress was worse than before, for the car seemed sick of travelling and her engine made ready to faint at the sight of a hill.
At half-past five we were still five miles from the inn, when, as though to insist that she had travelled enough, the brute, without any warning, refused to answer the wheel. So slowly had we been moving, that I was able to stop before we ran off the road, but when I got down I found that a bolt of the steering had broken in two.
Stiven was less tired than I, for he had not been driving nor had he visited Robin the day before, so I sent him off to the inn to tell Hubert that I was stranded and ask him to bring the Rolls.
That an hour and a half must go by before help came was unhappily clear, and when I had watched my messenger pass out of sight I flung myself down on the grass by the side of the car.
Before I had lain there a minute I was asleep.
An hour had gone by when I felt a man’s hands upon me, turning my body about.
Dead asleep as I had been, Harris had put such an edge to my instinct of self-preservation that I was up in a flash, dazed, but full of menace and ready to do any violence the circumstances seemed to require. This so much surprised the other that he made to take a step back and catching his spur in a tussock fell heavily into the ditch.
A peal of laughter greeted this ridiculous scene, and when I looked round I saw a girl on horseback in a habit of Lincoln Green. She was very fine to look at and was riding a handsome roan and holding a bay: but had she been clad in sackcloth and herding swine, because of what Palin had said, I should have known who she was. She was incomparable.
Her hair was dark, and her eyes were large and grey. Her skin was very white and her colour was high: of her clean-cut features her mouth was especially lovely, and she had a look of being mistress wherever she went. Her air was more gracious than charming, yet natural as the day, and I remember thinking that had she been born an empress a fanatic loyalty would have distinguished her reign. She was slight and sat very well; and though, as this tale will show, I saw her again and again, the picture she made in the cool of that fragrant morning, with the greenwood glancing behind her and the roan in its pride and splendour bearing her up, will always excel its fellows, beautiful though they are.
Lady Olivia Haydn steadied her voice.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But it looked like an accident, and my groom was turning you over to see if you were alive.”
“I’m very grateful,” said I. “And I’m sorry I played the part of a Jack-in-the-Box.” As the groom came to take his horse, “Will you ask if he’s hurt?” I added.
She spoke to the man in German, and the fellow took off his hat and made her some pleasant answer with a smile on his face.
“No, he’s not hurt,” she said. “He’s had too many falls.” She hesitated. Then—“Can I do anything for you? Send you some help, or something? You see, I can speak your language and, to tell you the truth, you give the impression of having been in the wars. My name is Olivia Haydn.”
For a second I hesitated. Then I determined to do as my impulse bade.
“I’m John Ferrers,” I said. “John Ferrers of Hohenems.”
I saw her start, but she said no word but kept her eyes upon mine.
I decided to continue my report.
“The man who’s there now’s an impostor. On our way out from England, he lay for me and my cousin and stripped us of all we had. Then he fetched up at the castle and said he was me. None of the servants had seen us, so how could they know? He’d all our credentials and luggage, so he couldn’t go wrong.”
“Who is this man?” said my lady.
“My great-uncle’s secretary’s brother. Harris by name. Of course, he’s not working alone.”
There was a little silence. Then—
“And what,” said Lady Olivia, “are you proposing to do?”
“Turn him out,” said I. “Enter and eject him by force.”
My lady raised her eyebrows.
“Have you seen the castle?” she said.
I nodded.
“We went there last night,” I said, “and took the Rolls. We had to have something and this car’s like a bad dream.”
The girl stared for a moment. Then she began to laugh.
At length—
“This is most refreshing,” she said. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“My cousin,” I said. “He’s the joint heir with, me. And my cousin’s man and Palin. He’s come in with us.”
“Andrew Palin?” she cried. “How did you fall in with him?”
I told her shortly enough.
When I had done—
“Remember me to him,” she said. “I can see he’s spoken of me, so I’ll leave it there. And now I must be going. I shall be very interested to know how you all get on.”
Before I had time to answer, the roan had leaped over the ditch, and an instant later the lady was lost to view.
This most abrupt departure prevented me from asking how I might see her again, and I have no doubt that that was why she left me, for, though she was plainly friendly, she came from the enemy’s camp. More. My news had confused the issues beyond belief. I was the man to be outwitted, and Haydn was already in touch with a man of straw.
If she needed time for reflection, be sure I did too, and I watched the groom ride after his flying mistress as a man in a dream.
Her beauty had been so startling and her air and her manners so fine that that I should feel something dazed was natural enough, but our meeting had been so strange and the step I had taken was so grave that, without thinking what I did, I began to walk up the road the way Stiven had gone, and when, a few minutes later, I saw the Rolls coming towards me, I only drew to one side and would have let her go by.
As she came to rest—
“He’s asleep,” said my cousin’s voice. “He’s walking, but he’s asleep.”
With an effort I collected my wits.
“Perhaps you’re right,” said I. “But if I am, I’ve had the deuce of a dream.”
Chapter 4. Thieves in the Night
Because its steering was useless, the hired car could not be towed, and, the day being Sunday, I had to visit three forges before I could find a smith to give me a bolt: by noon, however, we had her back at the inn and at half past five that evening I drove her into Robin and rendered her whence she came.
Though we felt that Time was against us, at Palin’s instance we spent that night at the inn, for as yet we had no firearms, while Hubert, Stiven and I were in need of a good night’s rest. By rights we three should have been scarce able to stand, but though I know I was thankful to lie in a decent bed, we were by no means failing for want of sleep. But then we were all very, fit and our account with Morpheus was not yet, so to speak, overdrawn. But had we known how slight a balance was left, we should not that night have slept as sound as we did.
We were up betimes the next morning and on the road before eight, for we meant to visit Salzburg—a journey, to and fro, of nearly three hundred miles.
That day proved once for all that we had done more than wisely in taking the Rolls, for we spent two hours at Salzburg, a well-found town, and yet were back in our quarters by half past six. So we had time to rest and dine in comfort before setting out for the castle at nine o’clock.
We now had an excellent torch and a pistol apiece, as well as some rope and some tools with which, if need be, we could force any ordinary door. We were, therefore, as well equipped as we could have wished and I, for one, set out in the confidence that before the night was over, Harris the Second would curse the day he was born.
Here I should say that we had been careful to purchase such things as we should require for tending the Rolls. Had we but thought, we might have had these with the car, when we carried her off: still, we spent the money gladly, for we gloried in the car, as children, and Stiven bolted his supper to finish ‘rubbing her down.’ Such an outlook was proper. Her manners were faultless: her body—a cabriolet—was most beautifully built: and her pace and her silence were just what we had required. As for the people of the inn, no worshipful relic could have been more respected or better bestowed. But all that was ours was sacred in the sight of those honest souls. They never asked a question or made any sort of comment upon the hours we kept, yet gave our needs precedence over all other cares: when we told them that evening that urgent private business would keep us abroad all night, their one idea was to put us up suitable food, and from that time on they might have been our allies and stood to gain a fortune from our success.
At ten that night we stood once more at the viewpoint from which we had first seen Hohenems two days before.
Three windows which gave to the ramparts were full of light, but the rest of the house was in darkness, so far as we saw.
This was no more than we expected: but until the lights were put out, we did not propose to move. The night being warm and gentle, some of the gang were sure to be on the ramparts, and though we hoped very much that they had not thought of watching the postern steps, so long as they lounged above them, we dared not essay to make our entrance that way.
Our plan was simple.
We proposed to enter the castle, find the principal servants and convince them that Hubert and I were the rightful heirs. That we could so satisfy them, we had little doubt, for Palin could state our case and the letter we had left for the chauffeur had paved our way. Once they believed that Harris was an impostor, if they were at all faithful, their anger would know no bounds and they would be only too eager to help us to bring him down.
Now we hoped to gain this advantage before Harris knew of our presence within his gates, for if he were to raise the alarm and discover us to the servants before we had discovered ourselves, we should appear in the light of so many thieves, and the instinct of the servants would be to stand by Harris and, carrying out his orders, to give no ear to our words. In such a case, we must either overpower Harris and the rest of the gang or contrive to hold them in check till the servants believed in our cause: but if we failed in these things we should have to beat a retreat, for, though we might effect a lodgment, with the staff against us we should be as good as in jail and must fall prisoners to Harris before very long.
Now that we had some rope, our descent to the valley would be easy and could be made where we pleased but, except for the bend of the road to which we had come, we knew no point from which we could watch the windows at present aglow, so Hubert and Stiven stayed there, while Palin and I walked on to see if lights were burning upon the courtyard side.
We had left the Rolls concealed on the grass-grown track. Her switch and her bonnet were locked, and I had the keys.
Palin and I went carefully, keeping a sharp look-out, but though we were sure that the courtyard was being guarded, we could hardly believe that the road of approach was patrolled. Nor was it, so far as I know: and we heard no sound but the roar of the falling water and once or twice the cry of an owl in the woods.
The night was so dark that when we had turned the last corner, the castle might have been gone, and when it began to take shape, we could see no detail at all, but only the towers of the gatehouse against the sky. No light was burning, and the mouth of the archway was black. To complete our reconnaissance, we held on our way until we were able to make out the castle walls, but to our surprise we could not distinguish the archway, try as we would. Not until we were standing but twenty paces away did we perceive what had happened to baffle our sight.
The drawbridge was up.
It had never occurred to us that the drawbridge could still be raised, for it had seemed a fixture when we had used it to enter and leave the courtyard: but this was because it was short and massively built, while the gear by which it was lifted was not to be seen.
After a long look we stole back the way we had come.
As we rounded the first of the bends—
“And I don’t blame them,” said Palin. “I’d have done the same thing myself. After all, what’s a drawbridge for? To discourage the gate-crasher. But I’m devilish glad we know it. If we’d been pressed and tried to emerge that way . . .”
As he spoke there was a movement before us, and then we heard Stiven’s voice.
Hubert had sent him to tell us the lights were gone.
Forty minutes later we were flat against the wall of the castle at the head of the postern steps.
We had mounted noiselessly, for our shoes were soled with rubber and made no sound: but it was an anxious moment, for the steps were commanded by the ramparts, and anyone watching there could have held the four of us up or shot the four of us down.
The moon had not yet risen, but our eyes had grown used to the dark, and if someone had leaned over the battlements, we should have seen his movement against the sky. Palin, therefore,
stood sentry, whilst I got upon Stiven’s shoulders to come at the window-sill.
The window was open, as I had found it before, and the room beyond was in darkness, save for the strip of light which was showing beneath the door.
I drew myself on to the sill and thrust my head into the room, straining my ears for any sound of breathing, for it might well have been a bedroom whose occupant was asleep. Hearing no sound, I ventured to use my torch, to see an empty chamber, as bare as my hand.
This discovery did my heart good, for, apart from making our entry the easiest thing in the world, it showed that Harris accounted this side of the castle safe from attack.
Here I may say that I think it more than likely that none of the gang had noticed the postern steps: but, if they had, they had not thought of the windows but had contented themselves with knowing the postern barred.
The sill was three feet wide—the wall itself was nearly seven feet thick—and we had to make use of the rope, before Palin, the last to enter, could get his hands on the ledge: but at last we were all in the room, having made so little noise that had there been someone there sleeping, I do not believe he would have waked.
The door of the room was unlocked, so Hubert opened it gently and put out his head. A moment later we were standing in a long stone passage which seemed to run the length of the castle from east to west. On our left, as Palin had predicted, was the massive door reinforcing the postern gate. Its bolts, which were shot, were fully as thick as my wrist, and since they passed into the stone, to open that door from without would have troubled Jack Sheppard himself. Why the passage was illumined we could not think, but we afterwards found that, since it had no windows, the lights there were always burning by day as by night.
Now from what we had seen when we lay on the coach-house roof, we knew that the servants’ quarters lay to our right: so we closed the door behind us and started that way along the passage, moving in single file.
Safe Custody and Laughing Bacchante Page 6
