The Quest of the 'Golden Hope': A Seventeenth Century Story of Adventure
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CHAPTER VI
A Midnight Intruder
Although the day had opened fine and bright, the evening had broughtwith it an unwelcome change in the weather. A south-westerly gale,blowing straight from the English Channel, swept across the land,accompanied by heavy downpours of rain and hail; while ever and anonvivid flashes of lightning, followed by deafening peals of thunderthat shook the house to its foundations, would pierce the darknessof the night.
For more than an hour I remained at my window, watching the flashesplay upon the distant trees of the forest, or light up the rollingexpanse of gorse-clad heath. So fierce was the wind that thebranches of a tree close to my casement were lashed violentlyagainst the thatch, while a tall elm at the edge of the lawn hadbeen uprooted, and lay athwart the sodden road.
At length the storm receded, and, tired out, I sought repose.
It must have been some time betwixt midnight and dawn, for 'twasstill dark, when I awoke with a start and a vague feeling thatsomething was amiss.
I had, according to custom, left the casement slightly ajar, theframe being secured by an iron quadrant. This contrivance fittedtightly, and 'twould be impossible for it to move of itself; yet Iheard the creaking of the metalwork as the casement was slowly andcautiously opened, for the wind had now died utterly away, and allelse was still save for the pattering of the water from the eaves.
Overcome by a nameless terror, I lay motionless in my bed, thinking'twas the Evil One coming in person to bear me bodily away.[1]
Slowly a dark, sinister figure, barely distinguishable against thegloom without, crept silently through the now open window, past thefoot of my bed, and out by the unlatched door of the room,smothering as it did so a sneeze.
That sneeze aroused my courage, for never in all the worthy DoctorColling's discourses had I heard of the Evil One sneezing. Theintruder was a robber!
However, I remained silent and motionless till the unwelcomestranger had time to get clear of the room; then, boldly springingout of bed, I crept softly to my father's room.
At the first touch of my hand he was wide-awake, thanks once moreto his active life afloat, but had the good sense to refrain fromspeaking aloud.
In a few words I explained the situation, and without hesitation hesprang from his bed, armed himself with a petronel, and hasteneddownstairs to surprise and, if possible, capture the intruder, Ifollowing closely and silently at his heels.
But in the few minutes of undisturbed action the robber had not beenidle, for ere my father gained the lowermost stair he trippedsuddenly over a broom handle cunningly placed there for thatpurpose, and falling headlong, the petronel exploded with a vividflash and a stunning report, the bullets crashing through thewainscot.
In a moment he was on his feet again, only to meet the robber as hedashed for freedom. In the darkness I heard the sounds of a furiousstruggle, but, being unable to distinguish friend from foe, I wascompelled to stand inactive and useless:
Suddenly there was an exclamation of pain, followed by a heavy thud,and the next instant I was thrust violently against the wall as apowerful, agile figure tore past me and up the staircase.
A terrific crash of broken glass was followed by the shrieks of oldMartha and groans in the darkness, while I heard Captain Jeremyrushing from his room, shouting for lights to be brought.
When at length we found tinder and steel and a light was provided,my father was seen lying on his face, bleeding profusely from awound in the right side.
"Water!" he gasped feebly. "I am done for!" and before we couldraise him from the floor he had swooned.
Jeremy, cursing loudly, was at first for pursuing the murderousvillain who had dealt the fell blow, but pursuit was not to bethought of when we saw my father's desperate condition. Fearing tocarry him upstairs to his own chamber, we lifted him into thedining-room, where we placed his senseless form on aroughly-constructed couch.
Constance had now joined us, and though trembling with fear andanxiety, she alone suggested the wisest course.
"Run, Clifford, for a chirurgeon!" she exclaimed, and, hatless andshoeless, though I had found time to don my clothing, I tore overthe sodden fields to the house of Master Blackwood, who lived wellon the outskirts of the village.
Seeing the case was urgent, though I could but babble an incoherentsummons, the surgeon came quickly; and having made a hastyexamination, the grave look on his clear-cut features showed that mysire was in dire peril of death.
Having dressed the wound, Master Blackwood applied himself torestoring his patient to consciousness, and while this was beingdone my glance fell upon the picture--or, rather, the frame--that myfather had bought but a few short hours ago.
The painting was missing, cut from the frame by a sharp knife.Almost at the same time Captain Miles noticed the empty frame, and,in spite of his accustomed coolness, his jaw dropped.
"Alack-a-day! A sorry pass! 'Tis the friar's curse come home," hemuttered huskily.
Slowly the pale dawn struggled for the mastery with the feebleflicker of the rushlight till, in a mantle of vivid crimson hue, thesun rose red and angry in the eastern sky.
Then, and only then, could we see the full extent of the mischiefthat the robber had wrought. That the precious chart had been theobject of his entry there could be no doubt, for in the short spaceof time ere he was disturbed he had made straight for the paintingthat formerly concealed the parchment.
The shattered broomstick, a dark pool of blood at the foot of thestairs, and the shot-marked wainscot were silent evidences of thetragedy; while I found the hilt of a knife wedged firmly in thewall, close to where I was hurled by the escaping miscreant.
Then I remembered the incident, and to my surprise I found that Ihad a clean cut in the right shoulder. Though it had bled somewhat,in my excitement I had been unaware of it; yet 'twas a narrowescape.
"There's more behind this affair than we wot of," remarked CaptainJeremy. "The rogue had doubtless watched us through the windowwhilst your father and I were talking of the matter of the treasure,for I bear to mind the shutters were not drawn. Then, finding thatthe iron bars across the lower windows prevented him from enteringsave by much labour and trouble, he scaled the tree without yourcasement and entered your room. But, Clifford, sorry though I be foryour father's plight and sore hurt, 'tis a fortunate thing that therobber was foiled, for, see you, I had the chart with me, placedunder my pillow for safety. As for the picture of the old _Venture_,'tis of little account, though I did set some store on it for thesake of bygone times."
"But concerning the robber?" I asked. "If we are to inform the watchthere will be danger of your discovery, yet I am loath to let thevillain go unhindered."
"'Tis a matter that requires much consideration," he repliedgravely. "I call to mind when I was on board the barque _Furie_within sight of Port Royal. A fire broke out for'ard and threatenedto consume us; our longboat and shallop were damaged, whilealongside were swarms of sharks. As we could not save ourselves byflight, we fought the flames so determinedly that we put out thefire, though it seemed a well-nigh impossible task."
"And what of it?" I asked perplexedly, for I failed to grasp theCaptain's meaning.
"You see, Master Clifford, this house, in a manner of speaking, isthe burning craft, the King's officers are the sharks; so, until weknow your father's pleasure in this business, I would that nothingbe said concerning the affair. Master Blackwood I know to be astanch and upright man who detests the unlawful practices of KingJames; he will keep silence. Your sister, also, I know to becircumspect; but I have my doubts about Martha, for the tongues ofserving women, especially old ones, are apt to wag."
"I am content to let the matter rest for the present," I replied;and crossing the hall, I laid hold of the knife that was still fixedin the wainscot. It took much strength to wrench it free, and nolittle care, for the broken blade was as sharp as a razor. The steelwas about a span in length, and wet for about half that distancewith my father's blood. As I cleaned it, my eyes f
ell upon someletters engraved upon the blade. Worn though the steel was, Ideciphered the letters "...emento mori".
"'Tis perchance the name of the cutler," said Captain Miles, takingthe steel out of my hand and examining it carefully.
"Nay; 'tis certain you have not noticed similar words in LymingtonChurch," I replied. "The first letter is on the other portion of thebroken blade, and the completed sentence is the Latin for 'Rememberyou must die'. I'll have a hilt fitted to this portion, CaptainJeremy, and should ill befall my father, the motto will guide me inthe tracing of the villain."
"Strange it may be," remarked the Captain reflectively, "but now Irecall an old shipmate of mine who bought a dagger in Lisbon withthese words. He was, I remember, an ill-favoured creature."
"Was he short in stature, and bull-necked?" I asked eagerly.
"Nay," replied my companion, shaking his head; "you are on the wrongtack. Your father hath told me of the man you have in mind--the onewho would have bought the picture, though, sink me! I cannot imaginewhy he should set such store on it. Nay; the man, though short instature, was as thin as a handspike. But, my lad," he said kindly,"you look as white as a sheet. Here, take a turn in the garden, forthe place smells like a charnel-house. Keep within ear-shot, lestyou are wanted."
With a heavy heart I obeyed, having first obtained Constance's aidin applying a bandage to my wounded shoulder.
The damage done by yesternight's gale was enormous, though I paidlittle heed to the scene of desolation, but, stepping over thebroken branches that everywhere littered the ground, walked round tothe back of the house, whence the robber had made his escape.
He had left by the same means as he had entered--through thecasement of my room and down the tree that unfortunately provided aready means of descent. Curiosity prompted me to examine the trunk,and on so doing I found traces of blood on the bark. I noticed that,if viewed from the window, the marks of blood were on the right-handside of the trunk, and, as the fugitive must have descended with hisface towards the bark, 'twas evident that he had been wounded on theright side of his person; and by the quantity of the blood it wasfurther evident that the wound was of a severe nature.
Then the thought flashed across my mind: the villain was sore hurt,his track lay fresh upon the grass; why should I not follow him?
Running back to the house, I loaded my fowling-piece, and callingBruno, my lurcher, I started in pursuit.
[1] Lest Clifford be thought a weak-minded coward, it is well toexplain that previous to and during the seventeenth century therewas a strong popular belief in the corporal presence of the EvilOne. The study of any contemporary writer will confirm this. Anotable example is afforded by the panic of Robinson Crusoe ondiscovering a dying goat in the darkness of a cave: "I saw two broadshining eyes of some creature, whether devil or man I knew not".