Cursed be the treasure
unaccustomed thrill ran along my blood, and I thought I would go back
to her for a warmer leave-taking. But she had gone; and at that moment
I heard stealthy steps approach me. I looked round, to see the officers
Worthing had warned me of. I sprang from the pile and ran, but there
was a third who had cut off my retreat, and I was hopelessly trapped.
My arms were tied behind me, and with threats and proddings I was
marched away for Rancey Bridge.
The reverse from freedom to captivity was so sudden that I was numbed
by it and couldn't think. It seemed like the kind of thing that
happened in nightmares. I should awake soon and find it all an ugly
fancy. But one consoling thought re-echoed through my mind: at least
Jenny hadn't seen.
It was some time before my brain began to work again. So overwhelmed
was I that the blow seemed final and irretrievable. I could see nothing
beyond the cell they were haling me to, though that I could see clearly
enough. And it wasn't the horror of the thing that appalled me; I could
face that. The loneliness and the dark meant little to me. Rather it
was the loss of my liberty that oppressed me. A moment before, and I
was my own master; I was off for the _Dolphin_ and the delights of a
summer-time with my father, though I hadn't considered very deeply
upon what foundations my hopes had been built. Still, here I was with
nothing but the prospect of four walls about me, closing me in and
shutting out the wonderful air of heaven and the sound and beauty of
the sea.
I remember I experienced one pang of conscience, for a voice said that
this was retribution for trying to deceive Jenny. I had left her,
pretending to seek for her father's foe, when in reality I was merely
bent on finding my own father, and having found him I should in all
probability have forgotten Jenny and her mission.
But little by little my spirit revived, and I told myself they couldn't
imprison me for ever; and once free of the cells I should know well
enough how to make my escape from Rancey Bridge.
We were in the village at last. There was a crowd in the street
blocking up the way so that one of the officers had to push ahead
to clear a passage. If my wits had been clearer I should have asked
myself what could have called a crowd together at this time of the
morning; for it was early, though the sun had risen. Then some one
called "Hullo, Tommy!" and I saw the faces of my schoolmates about
me. Of course they had been out for their morning run. I told myself
that the morning run would be a good time to make my next escape. But
they had stopped in their run; something had caught their attention.
I heard laughter, and peering into the heart of the throng saw by
glimpses a beggarman who seemed to be yarning volubly to an admiring
mob. There were three rows of military decorations across his breast.
An old soldier, I thought. Then he moved forward a step, and I caught
the _clop_ of a wooden leg. I glanced swiftly, and recognized the
one-legged impostor I had seen at his trickery.
So, I thought, a rogue like that may enjoy his liberty, while every
one thinks him a hero, but I must go on my way to a cell! I don't
remember having felt so bitterly in my life before. Nor was my sense of
injustice appeased when he caught my eye and slowly winked at me, as
though realizing full well that our places should have been reversed.
All this took but a moment's time, and the officers having cleared a
path jerked me forward. I lost sight of the old humbug. But suddenly he
started singing, and his words sent the blood leaping to my heart:
"'Twas at Ebb-Tide Cave by the Smugglers' Gate,
At the dawn of a summer's day;
And there those happy lovers met,
All on the first of May."
I heard him cry merrily, "Would you like to hear the story of that,
m'lads?" and the boys shouted for the narrative. I turned my face away
so that no one should see my sudden emotion, but only to meet the eyes
of Worthing watching me intently, while the old soldier's voice still
echoed the refrain, for my benefit I knew:
"All on the first of May,
My dear,
All on the first of May."
Worthing's face showed no sign of comprehension; but I knew that he
knew.
I began wondering what the date might be, but had no notion, except
that it must be well on in April. The first of May! How could I be at
Ebb-Tide Cave by the first of May?
The full meaning of my calamity was borne in upon me as by a great
wave. The gripping hands of the officers seemed like chains of adamant
about my arms, relentless and unbreakable.
CHAPTER XVIII
OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN
I don't wish to dwell on the suffering and despair of the next few
days. The mere physical distress was bad enough, but looking back I
hardly seem to remember the daily flogging, nor the cold and damp of
the bare brick cell, nor my stiffness of body when I awoke in the dark
not knowing whether it were morning yet or still night-time, nor the
hunger gnawing within me, half famished as I was on the starvation
diet. These things have only left a blurred impression on my memory,
though the anguish at the time was cruel enough. But what I do remember
vividly, as though the agony of it were still with me, is the crying
pain at my heart, knowing my father wanted me, had sent for me, and
like a fool I wasn't ready for him, had indeed by my imbecile conduct
failed him at his need. This was the thought that stung me more than
the birch and the shivering cold and the biting hunger: my father
needed me, and I had failed him.
How long I was kept in captivity I didn't reckon up. It seemed endless,
and with no hope of freedom beyond. When Staggers brought me my first
meal I did indeed ask him how many days there were to May-day, but he
merely snarled at me, and kicked me where I lay with the chains about
my wrists. For by now I was considered dangerous. Some while since
I had been deprived of my knife, and of course when I was stripped
for flogging my pistol was found on me. One who could run away from
school and hide a week or more in the neighbourhood without discovery,
and who, moreover, was found at last with a loaded pistol beneath his
cloak, wasn't to be treated as an ordinary mischief-maker. Though
locked and bolted into my cell it was deemed necessary to chain me up
also.
Repeatedly I was bidden to declare where I had been hiding, but my
courage was firm enough to prevent me from betraying the Captain. It
seemed a mystery to my captors where I could have obtained food and
shelter all this while. Eventually it was assumed that I had robbed at
the pistol mouth; and had there been any robberies during my absence
doubtless I should have been held responsible for them. However,
though no robberies could be discovered, I was well flogged on the
understanding that they had nevertheless been committed. For otherwise
how had I supported myself?
But all this I wish to pass over. It was miserable while it lasted,
and it helped to harden something within me which was gradually taking
stock of the ways of the world, appraising them or condemning them
according to my own sense of the just and the fitting without reference
to the standards I found set up about me.
It was one evening, as I knew, not by the darkness about me, for it was
always dark, but by the fact that some time since I had had my second
meal, when the door of my cell opened, and the clatter of a mug on the
brick floor told me that my last meal for the day had come. I didn't
move, for hungry as I was the mouldy crust and water didn't rouse my
appetite. But I was surprised at the unaccustomed striking of a light.
So used had I grown to the darkness that I couldn't keep my eyes open,
but screwed them up painfully against the dazzling glare. But little
by little blinking them open again, at last I could just bear to look
about me. I saw Worthing holding up a lantern, and gazing down at me.
I was more surprised than I could express. I couldn't even utter his
name, but lay there gaping stupidly, and wondering if it were merely a
vision.
Presently he spoke, coldly I thought, but deliberately, as though each
word was of importance.
"If you have quite recovered yourself," he said, "just listen to me.
You haven't too much time. First here's a file for those chains. You
must work the thing yourself as well as you can. Then here are your
knife and pistol. I shall leave the door unlocked. I think you'll know
what to do. Good-bye."
He was going; but I gasped out his name, and he turned.
"Well?" he asked.
"But tell me," I said, "what does it mean?"
"No time," he replied.
"But you must, you _must_," I implored.
He was silent a minute or two as though wondering how best to explain
the mystery. Then he said icily, "It's pretty simple, Tommy. It means
just this, that I'm a thief and a liar." And again he was at the door.
But I broke out, struggling at my chains, "Oh, Worthing, my best
friend, don't go like this. You've done something terrible for me. What
is it? What is it?"
"Why," he answered in the same bitter tone, "I've broken my trust,
that's all. The Doctor trusted me, and I stole your knife and pistol.
Staggers trusted me, because he wanted the evening out, and I've
brought you a file and unlocked the door. Good-bye."
"Worthing!" I called after him.
"For God's sake don't shout like that," he cut in.
"Look here," I said more calmly, "you must forgive me. I called you a
coward. I didn't mean it."
"And I called you a fool, and I did mean it," he said shortly, and was
gone. He came back to say, "You have just a week," and left me.
For a moment I lay motionless, wondering whether I ought to take
advantage of the liberty he had brought me. But I knew it was too late
now for such a scruple. If I had meant to refuse his gift I should
have done so before I let him go. In fact I realized now there were
many things I should have done before I let him go. If I couldn't have
persuaded him to take back his gift, at least I should have pressed him
to fly with me; for something of what lay in store for him when his
deed was discovered I could faintly guess. But with a shrug I dismissed
the thought. Since he had gone there was nothing left for me to do but
to make the best use of the chance he had given me, for to fail now
would but double his disgrace.
I set to work with the file, for my chains were long enough to permit
of that. But the labour was tedious, and many times I rested almost
exhausted with the ceaseless fretting, my fingers rubbed and bleeding
and so tender that even to hold the tool was an agony. But I knew the
work must be done, and at last crying with pain I had filed through the
links, and rose to my feet sore and stiff, but free.
Very lovingly I handled my knife and pistol, and secreted them ready
for use, for I was determined to fight my way through rather than be
dragged to prison again. The door creaked and groaned as I slowly swung
it open, having first put out the lantern lest its light should betray
me. But the passage was deserted, and at the end was a narrow flight
of stone steps up which I crept. At the top was a door which yielded
to my pressure, for Worthing had left it unlocked, though the key was
in its place on the other side. As I passed through, in front of me a
few paces away was a side door that gave on to the street. I was about
to open it when I heard a heavy tread without, and the door opened in
upon me. I flattened myself against the wall, and peeping round could
just make out the figure of Staggers, unsteady from some late debauch,
reeling through. He turned to close the door, drawing the key from the
outside of the lock. I feared I should be discovered, in spite of the