STORY TWO, CHAPTER TEN.
A PECULIAR POSITION.
The prisoner had been sitting upon the sawdust about an hour, when thedoor opened again, and the two men entered, one bearing a bundle ofblankets and a couple of pillows, the other a tray with a large cup ofhot coffee and a plate of bread and butter.
"There, you see we shan't starve you," said the first man; "and you canmake yourself a bed with these when you've done."
"Will you leave me a light?"
"No," says the man with a laugh. "Wild sort of lads like you are notfit to trust with lights. Good-night."
The door of the inner cellar was closed and bolted, for it was not likeours, a simple arch; and then the outer cellar door was shut as well;and Mr Barclay sat for hours reproaching himself for his infatuation,before, wearied out, he lay down and fell asleep. How the time hadgone, he could not tell, but he woke up suddenly, to find that there wasa light in the cellar, and the two men were looking down at him.
"That's right--wake up," says the principal speaker, "and put on those."
"But," began Mr Barclay, as the man pointed to some rough clothes.
"Put on those togs, confound you!" cried the fellow fiercely, "or--"
He tapped the butt of a pistol; and there was that in the man's mannerwhich showed that he was ready to use it.
There was nothing for it but to obey; and in a few minutes the prisonerstood up unbound and in regular workman's dress.
"That's right," said his jailer. "Now, come along; and I warn you oncefor all, that if you break faith and attempt to call out, you die, assure as your name's Barclay Drinkwater!"
Mr Barclay felt as if he was stunned; and, half-led, half pushed, hewas taken into what had once been the pantry, but was now acurious-looking place, with a bricked round well in the middle, while onone side was fixed a large pair of blacksmith's forge bellows, connectedwith a zinc pipe which went right down into the well.
"What does all this mean?" he said. "What are you going to do?"
"Wait, and you'll see," was all the reply he could get; and he staredround in amazement at the heaps of new clay that had been dug out, thepiles of old bricks which had evidently been obtained by pulling downpartition walls somewhere in the house, the lower part of which seemed,as it were, being transformed by workmen. Lastly, there were oil-lampsand a pile of cement, the material for which was obtained from a barrelmarked "Flour."
The man called Ned was better, and joined them there, the three beingevidently prepared for work, in which Mr Barclay soon found that he wasto participate, and at this point he made a stand.
"Look here," he said; "I demand an explanation. What does all thismean?"
"Are you ready for work?" cried the leader of the little gang, seizinghim by the collar menacingly.
"You people have obtained possession of this house under falsepretences, and you have made the place an utter wreck. I insist onknowing what it means."
"You do--do you?" said the man, thrusting him back, and holding him withhis shoulders against a pile of bricks. "Then, once for all, I tell youthis: you've got to work here along with us in silence, and hard too, orelse be shut up in that cellar in darkness, and half-starved till we setyou free."
"The police shall--"
"Oh yes--all right. Tell the police. How are you going to do it?"
"Easily enough. I'll call for help, and--"
"Do," said the man, taking a small revolver from his breast. "Now, lookhere, Mr Drinkwater; men like us don't enter upon such an enterprise asthis without being prepared for consequences. They would be veryserious for us if they were found out. Nobody saw you come in where youwere not asked, and when you came to insult my friend's wife."
"Wife?" exclaimed Mr Barclay, for the word almost took his breath away.
"Yes, sir, wife; and it might happen that the gallant husband had anaccident with you. We can dig holes, you see. Perhaps we might putsomebody in one and cover him up.--Now, you understand. Behave yourselfand you shall come to no harm; but play any tricks, and--Look here, mylads; show our new labourer what you have in your pockets."
"Not now," they said, tapping their breasts. "He's going to work."
Mr Barclay, as he used to say afterwards, felt as if he was in a dream,and without another word went down the ladder into the well, which wasabout ten feet deep, and found himself facing the opening of a regularegg-shaped drain, carefully bricked round, and seemingly securely thoughroughly made.
"Way to Tom Tiddler's ground," said the man who had followed him. "Now,then, take that light and this spade. I'll follow with a basket; andyou've got to clear out the bricks and earth that broke looseyesterday."
Mr Barclay looked in at the drain-like passage, which was just highenough for a man to crawl along easily, and saw that at one side a zincpipe was carried, being evidently formed in lengths of about four feet,joined one to the other, but for what purpose, in his confused state, hecould not make out.
What followed seemed like a part of a dream, in which, after crawling along way, at first downwards, and then, with the passage slopingupwards, he found his farther progress stopped by a quantity of loosestones and crumbled down earth, upon which, by the direction of the manwho followed close behind, he set down a strong-smelling oil lamp,filled the basket pushed to him, and realised for the first time in hislife what must be the life of a miner toiling in the bowels of theearth.
At first it was intensely hot, and the lamp burned dimly; but soon afterhe could hear a low hissing noise, and a pleasant cool stream of airbegan to fill the place; the heat grew less, the light burned morebrightly, and he understood what was the meaning of the bellows and thelong zinc tube.
For a full hour he laboured on, wondering at times, but for the mostpart feeling completely stunned by the novelty of his position. Hefilled baskets with the clay and bricks, and by degrees cleared away theheap before him, after which he had to give place to the man who hadbeen injured, but who now crept by both the occupants of the passage, afeat only to be accomplished after they had both lain down upon theirfaces.
Then the prisoner's task was changed to that of passing bricks and pailsof cement, sometimes being forced to hold the light while the man deftlyfitted in bricks, and made up what had been a fall, and beyond which thepassage seemed to continue ten or a dozen feet.
At intervals the gang broke off work to crawl backwards out of thepassage to partake of meals which were spread for them in the library.These meals were good, and washed down with plenty of spirits and water,the two servant-like women and the so-called Adela waiting on the party,everything being a matter of wonder to the prisoner, who stared wildlyat the well-dressed, lady-like, girlish creature who busied herself insupplying the wants of the gang of four bricklayer-like men.
At the first meal, Mr Barclay refused food. He said that he could noteat; but he drank heartily from the glass placed at his side-water whichseemed to him to be flavoured with peculiar coarse brandy. But he wastroubled with a devouring thirst, consequent upon his exertions, andthat of which he had partaken seemed to increase the peculiar dreamynature of the scene. Whether it was laudanum or some other drug, wecould none of us ever say for certain; but Mr Barclay was convincedthat, nearly all the time, he was kept under the influence of somenarcotic, and that, in a confused dreamy way, he toiled on in thatnarrow culvert.
He could keep no account of time, for he never once saw the light ofday, and though there were intervals for food and rest, they seemed tobe at various times; and from the rarity with which he heard the faintrattle of some passing vehicle, he often thought that the greater partof the work must be done by night.
At first he felt a keen sense of trouble connected with what he lookedupon as his disgrace and the way he had lowered himself; but at last heworked on like some machine, obedient as a slave, but hour by hourgrowing more stupefied, even to the extent of stopping short at timesand kneeling before his half-filled basket motionless, till a rudethrust or a blow from a bri
ckbat pitched at him roused him to continuehis task.
The drug worked well for his taskmasters, and the making of the mineprogressed rapidly, for every one connected therewith seemed in a stateof feverish anxiety now to get it done.
And so day succeeded day, and night gave place to night. The twoservant-like women went busily on with their work, and fetchedprovisions for the household consumption, no tradespeople save milkmanand baker being allowed to call, and they remarked that they never oncefound the area gate unlocked. And while these two women, prim andself-contained, went on with the cooking and housework and kept thedoorstep clean, the so-called Miss Adela Mimpriss went on with thewoolwork flowers at the dining-room window, where she could get mostlight, and the world outside had no suspicion of anything being wrong inthe staid, old-fashioned house opposite Sir John Drinkwater's. Even theneighbours on either side heard no sound.
"What does it all mean?" Mr Barclay used to ask himself, and at othertimes, "When shall I wake?" for he often persuaded himself that this wasthe troubled dream of a bad attack of fever, from which he would awakensome day quite in his right mind. Meanwhile, growing every hour moremachine-like, he worked on and on always as if in a dream.