She lit the candle at the fire and closed the glass sides of the lantern, then she went into the courtyard. She put the lantern down beside the sundial, then pushed the centre of the V and the dial swung aside. She felt a surge of fear as she looked down into the black hole, but reminding herself that she was Oliver's only hope she steeled her nerve and set her foot on the first step. It was slimy, and her foot almost slipped away from under her. It would be easier in bare feet. Sitting down on the rim of the hole, she removed her boots and stockings, then placing them carefully on the top step she tried again. The step was cold and wet, but her grip was much more secure. Picking up the lantern, she moved down to the next step, balancing herself with one hand against the wall.
It's like being a child again, she thought, as she descended carefully. She remembered all the times she had clambered over wet rocks as a little girl, leaving her shoes and stockings on the beach. If she had had a nursemaid she would not have been allowed to do such a thing, but her father had seen nothing wrong with it and she had enjoyed many hours of such freedom. It was standing her in good stead now.
There was no light but candlelight to guide her. The fading daylight from the hole above her had completely disappeared. She had the stone wall on her right side, a steep drop to her left, and the steps at her feet. She fixed her eyes firmly on the next step, going down slowly and cautiously and making sure she had a firm footing before she trusted her weight to the next step. It was cold underfoot. The sound of the sea grew louder, and her heart began to beat more quickly. She knew nothing about the passage, or where it came out. What if it came out into a cave that was flooded at high tide? She might not be able to get down to the beach. Even worse, she might get down and not be able to get back. Or what if it flooded whilst she was in it, and if the water came in so quickly she was drowned?
Resolutely she pushed those thoughts aside. It could not be helped. She had to warn Oliver, and this was the only way. She must just move as quickly as possible, and hope for the best.
She descended more rapidly now. She had grown accustomed to the feel of the weed beneath her feet, and she moved with a sure footing. Every now and then she stepped on a sharp piece of rock and winced, but she still kept going down. Here and there she came across a landing where she could stop and catch her breath, but she did not want to. She was all too aware of the sound of the sea, which was coming nearer and nearer.
At last she reached the bottom of the steps and found herself in a cave. It was much smaller than the cave she had entered from the passage in the library. It had no sandy bottom, but instead it was lined with boulders, between which the sea was churning. The water looked cold, and she shivered. If she fell in… the pools seemed bottomless, and they had such steep sides she doubted if she would ever be able to climb out.
Keeping to the edge of the cave, she made her way to the light that filtered in dimly from somewhere ahead of her. The noise of the surf became louder, until at last she found herself on the coast. The cave was fronted by rocks, but the sea had not yet reached its mouth, and she realized that the water in the cave pools must remain there constantly, instead of filling and emptying with the tide. She looked to left and right, trying to get her bearings, and was relieved to recognize a rock not far to her right. She had seen it when she and Oliver had gone out in the boat. It was about the height of a man, with a bulbous bottom and a sharp, pointed spike on top. If she walked round it she would find herself in the cove with the jetty.
Moving cautiously, aware of the fact that she could run into soldiers at any minute, she rounded the rock. There ahead of her was the sandy cove, and nearing it was a longboat. Two men were pulling on the oars-Edward and Oliver! There was a group of other people in the boat with them. She recognized James and Kelsey, and saw that there were about twenty people besides. Some were men but most were women, and there appeared to be a few children amongst them.
The boat pulled into the jetty and Oliver leapt out.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Don't you know the danger you're in? You—"
"There are soldiers here," she interrupted him. "They're at the house, sitting and waiting for you in the library."
He cursed. "Then we must hide in the cave."
"No. There are soldiers on the shore as well."
"Whereabouts?" he asked, looking round.
"I don't know. I haven't seen them. They might not have arrived yet. They were coming from the house. But they're on their way, if they're not here already, and they are likely to search the caves."
Oliver's voice was grim. "Then they've cut us off. Unless… if they've not yet reached the top of the cliff path, perhaps we can reach it before them. If so, we might be able to slip past them and escape into the countryside," he said, scanning the cliffs.
"There's another way, another passage," she said. "It goes up to the courtyard garden that leads off from the sitting-room. Quickly. Follow me."
Without wasting time asking questions he nodded curtly, and as the tired men, women and children climbed wearily out of the longboat, he directed them to follow Susannah.
She retraced her steps back along the shore towards the rock. As she rounded it she looked back to see Oliver helping the last few people out of the boat, and then heard him softly wish the men who remained in the longboat God speed. She saw them begin to row out again and glanced out to sea, noticing the dim outline of a ship anchored some way out. Then she turned her attention back to the rocks.
The tide was now nearer the cave mouth than it had been. It was creeping closer, and she was worried they would not all reach the cave in time. Some of the people were injured. They were all very tired. She led the way, holding the storm lantern aloft, and doing what she could to encourage everyone following her to make haste. Once at the cave mouth she stopped to make sure the others were behind her. They were. She was just about to turn and go in when she heard a loud crack! tear into the night. It was the sound of a musket being fired.
Oliver! she thought.
"Go on!" came Oliver's voice from somewhere behind her.
Knowing she must not dally, she said, "Be careful. Keep close to the wall. The rocks are slippery and there are deep pools to your right."
Having warned them, she went into the cave. As quickly as she could, she crossed the rocks, using one hand to steady herself against the wall to her left, whilst holding the lantern aloft with her right. She had gone about halfway when she felt something cold wash over her feet. It was the sea.
Spurred on by the rising tide, she quickened her pace as she headed towards the steps at the back of the cave, then breathed a sigh of relief as she reached them and started to ascend. She came to the first landing and was about to turn and go up again when she heard a cry and a splash. There was the sound of a child's whimpering, and James's voice saying, "Damn!" from the darkness. Then Oliver's voice called, "Carry on!"
There was nothing she could do to help. She turned and went upwards.
Up, up, she went, as the sound of the rushing tide grew louder in her ears. It was pouring into the cave. She reached the last few steps… and almost hit her head on solid stone. The sundial had swung shut. She felt her heart begin to pound. They were trapped!
CHAPTER TWELVE
How had it happened? She knew the dial would swing shut of its own accord if it was half closed, but she had left it wide open. Had the captain found it? Had he searched the house and shut them in? She looked down, and saw the water rising. If they didn't get out, they would be drowned. She began fumbling on the wall, hoping she could find a catch that would move the sundial out of the way.
"Here, hold this," she said.
She thrust the lantern into the hands of the woman on the step below her so that she could use both hands to search. She felt all along the roof, trying to find some hole or lever, but she found nothing.
"Don't stop!" came Oliver's voice from below. "Go up!"
"I can't," she called back, trying to keep the panic out o
f her voice. "The hole has closed."
"What?!"
There was movement on the steps below her. The ragged Frenchmen and women huddled to one side as Oliver pushed past them, until he stood two steps below Susannah.
"There's a sundial covering the hole," she said quickly. "I left it open, but someone must have closed it."
"There must be a catch," he said, feeling the roof and walls.
"I thought so, too, but I can't find one."
There was more disturbance below them, and Edward joined them.
"Set your shoulder to it," he said to Oliver.
Oliver put his shoulder to the roof. Susannah descended a few steps so that Edward could do the same. They heaved, trying to push the heavy dial to the side, but it would not move. At last, panting heavily with the exertion, they stopped to rest.
"Which way does it go?" asked Oliver.
Susannah thought. "To the left," she said.
They tried again, to no avail.
"The water's on the bottom step," James called up from below. "It's rising quickly."
"Caught like rats in a trap," said Edward grimly.
"We're not finished yet," said Oliver. "James! We need you and Kelsey up here!"
There came the sound of feet slapping on wet rock and then James joined them.
"Where's Kelsey?" asked Edward.
"I don't know. I haven't seen him since we got out of the boat."
"He rounded the rock," said Oliver.
"Then where is he? Oh, no," said James, his voice sinking. "The musket shot. It must have hit him."
There was silence as they took it in. Then Edward spoke. "If he's gone, he's gone. Right now, we need to get out of here, or we'll all be joining him."
Susannah retreated further down the steps, leaving the three men to try and heave the dial aside, but it would not move.
Oliver looked down into the water, which was still rising.
"We'll have to swim for it," he said, as he took his shoulder from the roof.
"We could perhaps manage it, as long as the tide does not come in too quickly and does not reach the roof, but the émigrés will never manage it," said James in a low voice. "There are children amongst them, and some of the men and women are too weak to make the effort."
"There's no other way," Edward said. "We-"
And then there was a grating sound, and the roof above them began to move. A dim light filtered in, and gradually became brighter as moonlight shone into the passage. It was accompanied by the blessed smell of fresh air.
"How… ?" began James.
"Never mind that now. Get everyone out."
Oliver sprang up the last few steps and leapt out, turning to help the others. One by one he half pulled, half lifted them out. Susannah was first.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're all right," came Constance's voice from out of the shadows. "I've been so worried."
"Constance! What are you doing here?"
"The militia began searching the house, and the captain told them to make sure they searched the courtyard garden, too. I had to slip outside and shut the passage in case they discovered it. I was afraid you would be drowned, but I couldn't open it again until they went upstairs. Thank goodness you're safe. But come, quickly. The soldiers are in the attic now, those that aren't in the library. You have time to get everyone into the kitchen."
Susannah and Constance led the way across the courtyard, through the french doors, over the corridor and down the steps into the kitchen. Susannah breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the light. Never had the kitchen seemed more welcoming. The kettle was steaming over the fire, and the room was bathed in a yellow glow. But she had no time to revel in its homeliness. She set the lantern down on the mantelpiece and turned round to see a raggedly dressed line of people following her.
Three women came first, with a girl of about eight years of age, then came an old man with a dirtily bandaged head wound and after him came two young men. James followed them into the kitchen carrying a boy of about five years old. He was wet through, and Susannah guessed he must have fallen into the rock pool. An assortment of seventeen people passed into the kitchen, together with Oliver, James and Edward, before Oliver closed the door behind them.
"Into the wash house," said Susannah, leading the way.
A large fire was burning brightly. A kettle was set over it, and assorted cups and dishes were placed next to it. Constance began pouring out dishes of hot tea and lacing them with whisky, handing them to the adults as they came through the door. The children were given hot milk.
"They can't stay here," said Oliver. "If the militia are searching the house, it's only a matter of time before they come downstairs. We have to get everyone out to the stables, and hope that we can get at least some of them away."
"There's no need," said Susannah, untying the strings of her cloak and slipping it from her shoulders. "As soon as the militia make a move towards the kitchen, we can push the dresser across the door. It will obscure it entirely. There is no other entrance. The wash house will simply disappear."
He looked at her with a mixture of admiration and respect, and a smile crossed his face.
"We'll outwit them yet!" he said.
"Constance," said Susannah, "go to the top of the steps and let us know as soon as the militia start to come this way."
Constance handed out a final dish of tea, then left the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
"James, Edward, help me," said Oliver.
The three men went into the kitchen and pushed the dresser across the door, leaving only a small gap. It was big enough for one person to slip through so that they could go in and out until the last minute if needed.
"We won't push it fully across until we have to," he said.
Susannah nodded. She glanced upwards at the clothes airer suspended from the ceiling. She unwrapped the cord from the hook on the wall and lowered the airer, then hung a sheet over it. She raised it part way to the ceiling, so that the sheet just skimmed the floor. It provided a screen separating the two sides of the room. Encouraging the men into one side and the women and children into the other, she began to hand out towels so that they could dry themselves, then turned her attention to the boy who had fallen in the pool.
"Where are his parents?" she asked.
"Dead," said Oliver, his mouth grim. "We tried to save them, but we were too late."
Susannah felt a lump in her throat, but crying would not help the boy now. He needed practical aid. Carrying him into the women's side of the room she undressed him and dried him thoroughly, wrapping him in a clean, dry sheet and then in a quilt. One of the women who had already dried herself held out her arms to the boy, crooning to him softly in French as he snuggled on to her knee.
"We will take care of him, my husband and me," she said.
Susannah helped the rest of the women remove their wet garments. Once everyone was wrapped in warm, dry linen she took down the sheet, opening the room up again, and began to hand out bread and cheese. Then she poured out glasses of wine, making sure that everyone had something to eat and drink.
She saw Edward watching her and felt uncomfortable, knowing what he thought of her, but after a few minutes he came towards her and said, "I'm sorry I doubted you. We owe you a great debt. Without you, we would have been caught in the passage or the library and everyone here would have been returned to France to face the guillotine-either that or killed outright. And this…" He looked round the room, with its leaping fire and its hastily assembled provisions. "This is a stroke of genius."
"It's lucky we had plenty of linen in here for washing and mending," she said. "Constance and I have been sorting through it for weeks."
"You're a brave woman, Susannah," he said, "and you have my gratitude—and my respect. But I will say no more. Oliver will never forgive me if I monopolize you," he finished with a smile.
Susannah flushed.
"I think we should close the gap," said Oliver, coming up to them. "We
won't need to go in and out again. Everyone is warmly wrapped, and has food and drink. There will be no more need to go into the kitchen."
Briefly, he explained to the rescued men and women what was proposed. They understood at once, and were content to remain in the closed room until morning. Susannah discreetly pointed out the chamber pots, and then Susannah, James, Edward and Oliver went into the kitchen. Edward and James pushed the dresser across the door, and it was as though it did not exist. The kitchen looked peaceful in the dancing firelight, as though the worst it had ever seen was a spoilt roast.
"And now we had better make ourselves known to the good captain," said Oliver.
"James and I will go out to the stables," said Edward. "Then you and Susannah can claim to have been riding, and we can say that we are seeing to the horses. It will give us an excuse for being dirty. But you should clean yourselves before you go above."
Susannah, who had caught sight of her reflection in the window pane, could not have agreed more. Her cloak had protected her gown from the dirt in the passage, but her hair was wild, and her feet were bare. Worse still, she had forgotten all about her shoes and stockings, and had left them on the top step of the passage. They were still there, or, even worse, they had been knocked into the sea.
Edward and James went out into the yard. Susannah poured out a bowl of water and began to wash her face and hands, whilst Oliver did the same. She turned her back to him, but caught sight of his reflected naked torso in the window as he stripped off his shirt and began to wash. She stood, mesmerized, as she watched him. She had never seen a man half naked before, and the sight of the water running in rivulets over his lean, muscular form made her pulse begin to race. She realized that she was staring and looked away, but the memory lingered, and she wondered how she was going to endure the pain of losing him when he left.
She finished washing and then tidied her hair, taking it down and running her fingers through it before piling it on top of her head again. Glancing into the window pane, she saw that Oliver had dressed himself once more, and she felt free to turn round.
Harstairs House Page 16
