Part 57 (1/2)
Then there was a long silence, during which Coventry's blood ran cold.
As nothing further occurred, he whispered, ”What is the matter?”
”My stomach fails me. Send me up a drop of brandy, will ye? Eh, man, but this is queer work.”
”I can't get it up to you; you must drink it here. Come, think! It will be five years' penal servitude if you don't.”
”Is the rope long enough?”
”Plenty for that.”
Then there was another awful silence.
By-and-by a man's legs came dangling down, and Cole landed on the sill, still holding tight by the rope. He swung down on the sill, and slid into the room, perspiring and white with fear.
Coventry gave him some brandy directly,--Cole's trembling hand sent it flying down his throat, and the two men stared at each ether.
”Why, it is a gentleman!”
”Yes.”
”And do you really mean to see me clear?”
”Drink a little more brandy, and recover yourself, and then I'll tell you.”
When the man was fortified and ready for fresh exertions, Coventry told him he must try and slip out of the house at the front door: he would lend him a feather and some oil to apply to the bolts if necessary.
When the plan of operation was settled, Coventry asked him how long it would take him to get to Hillsborough.
”I can run it in two hours.”
”Then if I give the alarm in an hour and a half, it won't hurt.”
”Give me that start and you may send bloodhounds on my heels, they'll never catch me.”
”Now take off your shoes.”
While he was taking them off, Cole eyed his unexpected friend very keenly, and took stock of all his features.
When he was ready, Coventry opened his door very carefully, and placed a light so as to be of some use to the fugitive. Cole descended the stairs like a cat, and soon found the heavy bolts and drew them; then slipped out into the night, and away, with fleet foot and wondering heart, to Hillsborough.
Coventry put out his light and slipped into bed.
About four o'clock in the morning the whole house was alarmed with loud cries, followed by two pistol-shots: and all those who ran out of their bedrooms at all promptly, found Coventry in his nightgown and trowsers, with a smoking pistol in his hand, which he said he had discharged at a robber. The account he gave was, that he had been suddenly awakened by hearing his door shut, and found his window open; had slipped on his trowsers, got to his pistols, and run out just in time to see a man opening the great front door: had fired twice at him, and thought he must have hit him the second time.
On examining the window the rope was found dangling.
Instantly there was a rush to the strong-room.