Cursed Be the Treasure 18Part II · Out of the Frying-Pan
18
Literature · Crime, Thrillers & Mystery
Cursed Be the Treasure 18
Part II · Out of the Frying-Pan
DrakeEnglish
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 dark, for in his drunken state he might easily lay his hand upon me. Moreover, he would probably lock the door, if he could manage to fit the key into the hole, and then pocket the key; and escape would then be more precarious, as I would have to go by the front entrance where the doorkeeper might hear me.
Quickly I made up my mind what to do. I could see Staggers stupidly lurching as he fumbled at the lock. I jerked open the door behind me, and throwing my full weight upon Staggers sent him toppling backwards through the doorway and bundling down the stairs; and as his body thumped and tumbled below me, I flung to the door and locked it; then turned and escaped into the night.
For a while I fled as though in a panic; then finding myself clear of the village I rested to recover my breath. What was I to do? Where was I to go? Should I press straight on as far as I could? But I became aware of a tiredness and stiffness of my whole body. I had been starved and tortured, and would probably collapse if I tried to go far without food. So I decided to make for Sunset Towers. I could hide there for the next day while the hunt was out. The Captain wouldn't give me up even if enquiries were made for me there. So I set off again, so weary that even the few miles ahead seemed a year's journey. But the thought of Staggers locked for the night in his own prison brought me wonderful consolation. I only hoped he wasn't too drunk to taste to the full the evil horrors of darkness.
I didn't realize till I rose again and started on my way how much I had had to endure during those few days in the cell. The short rest by the road-side left every muscle stiffened as though run into a mould and set. And with the friction of my clothes the wounds across my back were chafed into an agonizing tenderness, so that with stiffness and soreness every step was a double torment. I was weak and exhausted too from want of food, and I yearned to lie down on the heath and rest again; but I dared not. I knew my stiffness would increase upon me tenfold, and I feared lest sleep should overtake me. And with that thought I hurried forwards, for I knew if I fell asleep I should be found by the officers, and I shuddered with naked terror at the possibility of being recaptured and haled back to torture. The new taste of freedom, with the prospect of the Dolphin and my father only a week's tramp away, set the dread of imprisonment in black relief, till the fear of it became a haunting terror at my heels to spur me forward in spite of aches and pains. So I stepped on as swiftly as I could, crying with the agony of the rough clothes against my raw back, for indeed they seemed like rasps grating at my very bones.
Before I reached Sunset Towers I was alarmed to see the east growing white with the morning. I hadn't realized what a time I had spent filing through my chains, nor indeed how laggingly I had crept the few miles from Rancey Bridge. For I was staggering now in a crazy zigzag, unconscious of everything except the goal before me and the need to reach it without delay.
At last I touched the gate, where for a moment I leant against the post swaying dizzily, then with an effort passed on again for the last few steps, instinctively making for Jenny's window. And there indeed my strength failed me. I fell to the earth clutching at the ivy, and calling with what voice I could summon, "Jenny, Jenny, come and let me in."
I sank on the ground and waited, so weary that almost with the uttering of my cry for help I would have been asleep. But Jenny had heard me. The window was flung up, and she called quietly down, "Tommy, is that you?"
"Jenny," I said, but couldn't speak another word.
Her instinct must have told her I was at my last gasp, for she didn't stay to question me. In a moment she was out of the house and at my side, and her firm little arms were about me helping me to stand, and leaning on her heavily I managed to totter in and collapsed on a chair in the dining-room beside the empty grate.
After this things passed in a maze for some while. Jenny must have brought me some food and wine, and somehow supported me up the stairs to her room; for presently I found myself lying snugly in bed, and with the fading vision of her face bent above me sank into a wonderful sleep.
There was nothing more the matter with me than exhaustion, for when I awoke later in the day, though I still felt stiff and somewhat shaky about the head, yet I had lost the stupid sense of weakness which had sent me tottering down the road from Rancey Bridge. My strength had returned to me, and even the soreness had gone from my back. But putting my hand to the place I discovered why; it was swathed in comfortable bandages.
At the movement Jenny was at my side, and I put out my hand to her.
"Better, Tommy?" she asked in a voice of such concern that I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, for there was something so disconcertingly touching in her wide anxious eyes, usually so fierce, that I felt a strange emotion shake me. I couldn't decide whether it was pleasant or painful; but as I lay there and felt her little fingers about my brow there seemed to be something very wonderful about it all. For I had no desire to get strong and well again if I might have Jenny to tend and comfort me like this.
But the weakness was only momentary, for I felt a sudden shame at the unmanly sentiment; and putting Jenny's hands aside, rather roughly I'm afraid, I sat up and said, "There, that's enough." I jumped out of bed, pretending to feel nothing of my aches and soreness, though still acutely conscious of them.
Jenny fell back with a little "Oh!" and her eyes grew harder.
Perhaps I felt a slight compunction at having so churlishly repaid her care and tenderness, but that unpleasant sense of shame at having yielded to a weak and babyish emotion wouldn't let me tell her how dearly I held her. But it pained me to see her standing away from me, surveying me gloomily, stroking her hands together as though I had hurt them. I wanted to say something to set all right again, but all I could say was, "I must be quick, Jenny." I began pulling on my clothes, for some one had undressed me.
Then she smiled at me, and I felt relieved; for there had seemed for a moment the menace of thunder in the air, but now I knew the storm had blown over.
"Let me help you," she said, as I struggled against my stiffness, reaching round for the sleeve of my jacket. And soon I was dressed and armed again, and felt like a man.
I took a turn up and down the room to reassure myself that I was indeed master of my faculties; and then would have opened the door and gone downstairs. But Jenny stopped me, saying, "You can't go yet, Tommy." She gripped my arm and pulled me back.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Not yet," was all she answered.
"But why?" I pressed in growing surprise.
She watched me silently for a moment or two, then said, "Well, I'll tell you, Tommy. You see.... But are you hungry?" she broke off.
The sudden question seemed to create as sudden an appetite. I said I was, very hungry. She told me to stay there, and cautiously left the room, and after a while came tripping lightly back with half a meat pie and a bottle of wine under her arm.
"There," she said, laying down the spoils, "I'll tell you while you eat." So I set to with a relish, while Jenny told me the story of the day's happenings.
Firstly, it seems, Worthing had arrived the day before and had told the Captain, who had been fretting at my sudden disappearance, the cause of it; and he had gone to Rancey Bridge to enquire into the matter. That had given the authorities the information they had been wanting; but in spite of the Captain's appeals they wouldn't release me. However, he had made a fresh attempt that morning, and there had been a splendid battle; but again he had failed to recover me. Then shortly after he had left the school my flight must have been discovered, as it would have been earlier had not Staggers been imprisoned and so unable to report my escape. What had happened to Worthing I could only surmise, for Jenny said nothing of the matter, and listening to her story I had little leisure to think deeply of his case. I suffered a passing pang on his account, and forgot him.
Jenny had been alarmed to see her father returning in a terrified state; and rushing up the stairs he had vanished into his room where he had locked himself in muttering, "The officers! the officers!" It must have been almost immediately after his visit that my escape was discovered, and the officers had followed straight away on his track expecting to find me at his house. I didn't trouble to question exactly why he had been terrified; I was anxious to know what had happened to the officers. Evidently they had been met at the door by the impassive Abou, and quietly hushed away.
Meanwhile Jenny had kept my presence in her room a profound secret. That had been her little romance, and she had wanted it all to herself. So I must wait, she told me, till the night came, and then I could escape in safety.
I think her story and my meal ended simultaneously, for as I pushed away my plate, licking in the clinging fragments from my lips, she sat down beside me with a plump of her little body, and said, "There, Tommy; and I watched you sleep, oh, so long. But I like to see your eyes."
Again I felt that unpleasant and unaccountable awkwardness, and sniggered rather stupidly. Jenny relieved the situation by exclaiming suddenly, "I don't hate Worthing any more."
"Ah, Worthing!" I ejaculated; and again I was wrung with doubt as to what had happened to him when my escape had become known. Had he first made good his own retreat? Somehow I didn't think so. It wasn't like Worthing to run away. Well, they would have little mercy on him.
"He told me, Tommy," Jenny went on with hesitation, and finished, "what you wouldn't tell me."
"Ah," I said.
Then she suddenly sprang up, her eyes blazing, her fists clenched in the manner I knew well, and said with fierce vigour, "Yes, I know what they did to you. And I've seen too. I hate them. Oh, how I hate them!"
"It's their way," I said.
"But they won't catch you again, will they, Tommy?" She put her hands on my shoulders and said, "Promise?" as I had heard her say it twice before.
I laughed, and answered, "It won't be my fault if they do."
"Ah!..." Her hands dropped.
"And Worthing came and told you," I said; my thoughts again reverting to my friend with his strange loyalty, sometimes so considerate, sometimes so cruel.
Jenny answered, "He just said, 'They lock him up in a dark cell. They give him a crust and water three times a day. And they flog him naked every morning.' That's what he said. And he looked at me, and I could see it."
I could hear the words as Worthing would have said them. Just the plain facts of the case, and nothing more.
"Yes," I said, musing; then, "Well, it's over, and I shan't go back again. And to-night I'll be off, Jenny."
She turned to a drawer and took out a bundle neatly folded and strapped, and said, "Here's your things. There's some food. And here's some money." She gave me a golden guinea.
"Jenny!" I exclaimed.
"You'll need it," she said simply.
"But I'll never spend it," I declared, again under the power of that unnerving emotion. "I shall keep this as long as I live."
It was Jenny herself who dashed my ardour. "You'll keep it," she said, "till you're hungry."
But I registered a silent vow to keep it for ever in memory of my little playmate. I put it carefully in my inmost pocket.
And so we talked together. I told Jenny how I had escaped, and what Worthing had done for my sake. And as I told the story I realized more than ever the significance of the self-abnegating act. To save me he had made himself a liar and a thief. What that must mean to one with his passion for law and authority I could only dimly imagine. As for me I should have been willing to perjure myself a hundred times over for anyone I loved, but I knew by all my experience of his nature how such guilt would rankle in Worthing's soul. He had set himself up against the law. He had violated the ruling principle of his life. He had swerved aside from the clear straight path he had marked out for himself. And all to save his friend, whose conduct he had never pretended to sympathize with or condone.
I worked myself up into a fine emotion as I spoke of all this to Jenny. She said thoughtfully, "He loves you, Tommy; that's why."
I thought I could read in her steady eyes, "And I would have done the same."
So the evening wore away, while the darkness closed in like a visible shadow drawing ever nearer. And it was time for me to depart.
