Part 16 (1/2)
”Exactly,” he replied. ”It is with regard to the reason for the detention of Monsieur that I am unable to speak with him.”
”I know how I got here,” I returned. ”What I want to know is, who brought me, and what is to be done with me?”
He only shook his head.
”My lips are sealed. I must beg that Monsieur will put no further questions to me upon this matter.”
Seeing that it was useless to do so, I complied with his request, contenting myself by asking him if it would be possible to procure me a lamp and a book. He replied to the effect that it would give him the greatest pleasure, and once more left the room, as usual taking care to lock the door behind him. Presently he returned, carrying a lamp in one hand, and in the other half a dozen books, which he placed upon the table.
”I fear our stock of literature is not extensive,” he said. ”Doubtless, however, Monsieur will find something here to interest him. Should he require anything further, perhaps he will ring the bell. Our desire, as I said before, is to do all that we can to ensure Monsieur's comfort.”
”But not his happiness,” I replied; ”otherwise he would scarcely be here.”
”Once more I must remind Monsieur that we are treading upon dangerous ground,” he said.
Without another word he bade me good-night, and left me to derive what amus.e.m.e.nt and instruction I could from the collection of books he had placed upon the table.
They were, in truth, a motley a.s.sortment, comprising two volumes of sermons by a Divine who had flourished at the commencement of the century, a book of poems by a lady of whom I had never heard, ”Caesar's Commentaries” in the original, and the second volume of ”Pride and Prejudice,” with the label of a seaside circulating library upon the cover. I chose the last-named for preference, and not having read it before, and knowing nothing of what had taken place in the previous chapters, endeavoured to interest myself in it. The result, however, scarcely justified the labour. Heaven forbid that I should belittle a work that has given pleasure to so many thousands, but that night I was not only unable to derive any satisfaction from it, but found that it produced a feeling that might almost be described as one of prolonged bewilderment. After a time I exchanged it for one of the volumes of sermons, only to be equally bemused. The worthy divine's style was, if I may so express it, of the bigoted, yet argumentative, order. Never before had my own spiritual outlook appeared so ominous. I could plainly see that I had nothing to hope for in my present or future state. Almost in fear I closed the book and placed it with its fellows. Then I rose from my seat, and crossed to the door and examined it. It was as securely fastened as before.
Not a sound reached me from the other portions of the house; so quiet indeed was it, that had I not had evidence to the contrary, I could have believed myself its sole occupant. Having convinced myself that I was not likely to be disturbed, and making as little noise as possible, I placed one of the chairs upon the chest of drawers. By standing upon the latter I found that I was just able to reach the skylight. I tried to open it, but a few attempts were sufficient to show me that it had been made secure from the outside, doubtless in preparation for my coming. So far, therefore, as that exit was concerned, my escape was hopeless. Bitterly disappointed, I descended from my perch, and pushed the table back to its original position in the corner. It looked as if I were destined to remain a prisoner. In a very dejected state of mind I threw myself upon the bed, and it is not to be wondered at if my dreams that night were of a disturbed and depressing condition.
Punctual to the stroke of eight o'clock my gaoler entered the room, bringing with him the various articles necessary for my toilet.
”In case Monsieur would like to see what the world thinks of his disappearance,” said the man, with his usual politeness, ”I have brought copies of several of the morning papers. Monsieur will see that it has caused quite a sensation in England.”
He said this with such respect and civility that had a stranger who was not aware of the real state of the case been present, he would have found it difficult to believe that the man was in any way concerned in the affair.
I am inclined to think that an experience such as mine has never befallen another man. Here I was in captivity--if not in the heart of London, at any rate in one of her Suburbs--sitting down to peruse, in cold blood, a newspaper account of my own abduction. The first I picked up recorded the fact that I had been present at a dinner at Wilts.h.i.+re House, on the previous evening, and that I had returned to my own abode afterwards. My servant, Williams, had given evidence as to the receipt of a note by me, which purported to have been written by the Duke of Rotherhithe. In it the latter asked me to come to him at once. ”His Grace sent one of his carriages,” Williams remarked in conclusion, ”and when my master got into it, that was the last I saw of him.” Then came Rotherhithe's vehement declaration that the letter was a forgery, and his most positive a.s.sertion, corroborated by his head coachman, that not one of his horses or carriages had left the stables after his return from Wilts.h.i.+re House. ”The fact therefore remains,” said the writer, at the termination of his article, ”that the disappearance of Sir George Manderville must be relegated to that catalogue of inexplicable crimes, to which so many of our foremost men have fallen victims of late.”
The reports in the other papers were, for the most part, couched in similar language.
As soon as I was dressed, my breakfast was brought to me, but while I had no fault to find with the cooking, I scarcely touched it. I was turning over in my mind a scheme for making my escape, which had suddenly occurred to me, and which, I could not help thinking, possessed a considerable chance of being successful. What was to prevent my springing upon my gaoler when he next entered the room, overpowering him, and then rus.h.i.+ng out? Even if I did not succeed in getting away from the house, I might at least be able to attract the attention of people in the street, and thus be able to induce them to communicate with the Authorities. The idea seemed feasible enough, but I had not only to remember that my keeper was a muscular fellow, but that he would be fighting for what he knew to be a desperate cause. So far as strength went, however, I felt convinced I was his equal. Besides, I should have the advantage of taking him off his guard, which would be many points in my favour. At any rate I was prepared to try. This settled, the next thing to be decided was when would be the best time to put the plan into execution. Should I make the attempt when he returned to take away my breakfast things, or at mid-day when he brought my lunch? To do so at night would, I knew, be useless, since there would not be so many pa.s.sers-by, and if the windows were dark--and I had every reason to suppose they would be--I should stand but little chance of being seen, and the _raison d'etre_ of the whole affair would be gone. At last, on the principle that there is no time like the present, I determined to strike while the iron was hot, and to tackle him when he next entered the room. I made my plans accordingly.
In order to reach the table at the further end of the room, it would be necessary for him to go round at the foot of the bed. It was while he was there that the attempt must be made. Having got him down, I would endeavour to take the key from him and reach the door before he could sound the alarm or get upon his feet again. After that I must act as circ.u.mstances dictated. On this occasion he was somewhat more dilatory than usual. At last, however, I heard his footsteps in the corridor outside, then the key was inserted in the lock, and a moment later he had entered the room.
Having closed the door behind him, he pa.s.sed round the bed on his way to the table. My heart by this time was beating so furiously that it seemed impossible that he could fail to hear it. I had been careful to observe in which pocket he placed his key, for I knew that upon my finding that all my hopes depended. An hour seemed to have elapsed before he was bending over the table, engaged in collecting the various articles upon it. On this particular occasion he was in a somewhat more taciturn mood than usual, a fact for which I was not altogether sorry, for had he addressed me, my nervousness must surely have aroused his suspicions.
At last the moment for action arrived, and I rose from my seat upon the bed. I had scarcely taken a step forward, however, before he turned, and, divining my intentions, prepared to receive me. This was more than I had bargained for, but I had gone too far to turn back. He muttered something in Italian which I did not catch, then I was upon him, had caught him by the throat, and the struggle had commenced.
As a youngster I had won some little notoriety among my companions as a wrestler. The tricks I had learnt then stood me in good stead now. The man, as I have said, was muscular and heavy, but I soon found that I was quite his match. We rocked to and fro, turned over a chair, and on several occasions came perilously near the table. So tight was my grip upon his throat that, though he made two or three attempts, it was impossible for him to give the alarm. How it was that the noise we made did not attract the attention of the other inmates of the house, I am at a loss to understand. Little by little I began to get the upper hand of him. Then putting forth all my strength, and bringing into play a certain trick that had been an especial favourite in younger days, I threw him heavily backwards. The ruse was a complete success, and so violent was the fall, and with such force did his head strike the floor, that he lay insensible.
As soon as I had recovered my own equilibrium, I knelt beside him and searched his pocket for the key. Having obtained it, I went to the door, unlocked it, and got into the pa.s.sage outside. One glance was sufficient to show me that the house was of the typical suburban pattern: reception-rooms on the ground floor, bed-rooms on the next, and servants' quarters under the roof. My room was at the top of the house, and probably had once been a housemaid's apartment.
Once in the corridor I paused, to lock the door, thus making my captor doubly secure, after which I made my way towards a door at the further end of the pa.s.sage, to find it locked. I tried another with the same result, after which only one remained. Turning the handle of this I entered, to discover that the window of the room looked over the back, upon a long strip of garden, at the end of which were some high trees--limes if I remember correctly. Escape from the house by this room was plainly impossible. There was nothing for it, therefore, but for me to descend the stairs and try my fortune elsewhere. If the rest of my gaolers were not aware that the man who waited upon me was prisoner in my room, it was within the bounds of possibility, I argued, that they might mistake my step for his.
Accordingly, I wasted no time, but descended the stairs, keeping a sharp look-out over the banisters as I did so. I had reached the next floor in safety and was preparing to descend to that below, when the sound of a door being closed in the bas.e.m.e.nt caused me to hesitate. It was followed by a man's laugh, and a moment later, some one, who I could not see, began to ascend the stairs. In another second he would have turned the corner and have seen me. I can a.s.sure you it was one of the most anxious moments of my life. To go on was impossible; to go back more dangerous still. I had only two seconds' grace in which to act, but which door should I choose? Having selected that immediately opposite me, I softly turned the handle and entered the room--to make a discovery which for a moment deprived me not only of the power of locomotion, but even of thought. My readers will appreciate this when I say that, standing beside the fireplace, with one elbow resting on the mantel-piece, and a cigarette between his lips, _was no less a person than Conrad Reiffenburg_; while seated in a comfortable chair, her dainty feet resting on the bra.s.s fender before her, was his cousin, _the Countess de Venetza_!
”So you have managed to escape from your room, have you?” said Conrad with the utmost coolness, and without any apparent surprise. ”I wonder how you did that?”