CHAPTER XXVIII.
UNDER THE TILES.
He had a light in his hand, and he held it up to my face. 'So?' hesaid. 'Is that what you would be at? But you go fast. It takes two tothat, Master Steward.'
'Yes,' I answered. 'I am the one, and you are the other, Herr Krapp.'
He turned from me and closed the door, and, coming back, held thelight again to my face. 'So you still think that it was your lady'swoman you saw at the window?'
'I am sure of it,' I answered.
He set down his light on a chair and, leaning against the wall, seemedto consider me. After a pause, 'And you have been to the house?'
'I have been to the house--fruitlessly.'
'You learned nothing?'
'Nothing.'
'Then what do you want to do now?' he asked, softly rubbing his chin.
'To see the inside of it.'
'And you propose----?'
'To enter it from yours,' I answered. 'Surely you have some dormer,some trap-door, some roof-way, by which a bold man may get from thishouse to the next one.'
He shook his head. 'I know of none,' he said. 'But that is not all.You are asking a strange thing. I am a peaceful man, and, I hope, agood neighbour; and this which you ask me to do cannot be calledneighbourly. However, I need say the less about it, because the thingcannot be done.'
'Will you let me try?' I cried.
He seemed to reflect. In the end he made a strange answer. 'What timedid you call at the house?' he said.
'Perhaps an hour ago--perhaps more.'
'Did you see any one in the churchyard as you passed?'
'Yes,' I said, thinking; 'there was a man at work there. I asked himthe way.'
Herr Krapp nodded, and seemed to reflect again. 'Well,' he said atlast,' it is a strong thing you ask, my friend. But I have my ownreasons for suspecting that all is not right next door, and thereforeyou shall have your way as far as looking round goes. But I do notthink that you will be able to do anything.'
'I ask no more than that,' I said, trembling with eagerness.
He looked at me again as he took up the light. 'You are a big man,' hesaid, 'but are you armed? Strength is of little avail against abullet.'
I showed him that I had a brace of pistols, and he turned towards thestairs. 'Dorcas is in the kitchen,' he said. 'My sons are out, and soare the lads. Nevertheless, I am not very proud of our errand; so stepsoftly, my friend, and do not grumble if you have your labour for yourpains.'
He led the way up the stairs with that, and I followed him. The housewas very silent, and the higher we ascended the more the silence grewupon us, until, in the empty upper part, every footfall seemed to makea hollow echo, and every board that creaked under our tread to whisperthat we were about a work of danger. When we reached the uppermostlanding of all, Herr Krapp stopped, and, raising his light, pointed tothe unceiled rafters.
'See, there is no way out,' he said. 'And if you could get out, youcould not get in.'
I nodded as I looked round. Clearly, this floor was not much used. Ina corner a room had been at some period roughly partitioned off;otherwise the place was a huge garret, the boards covered with scrapsof mortar, the corners full of shadows and old lumber and densecobwebs. In the sloping roof were two dormer windows, unglazed butshuttered; and, beside the great yawning well of the staircase bywhich we had ascended, lay a packing-box and some straw, and two orthree old rotting pallets tied together with ropes. I shivered as Ilooked round. The place, viewed by the light of our one candle, had aforlorn, depressing aspect. The air under the tiles was hot and close;the straw gave out a musty smell.
I was glad when Herr Krapp went to one of the windows and, lettingdown the bar, opened the shutters. On the instant a draught, which allbut extinguished his candle, poured in, and with it a dull, persistentnoise unheard before--the murmur of the city, of the streets, thevoice of Nuremberg. I thrust my head out into the cool night air, andrejoiced to see the lights flickering in the streets below, and theshadowy figures moving this way and that. Above the opposite housesthe low sky was red; but the chimneys stood out black against it, andin the streets it was dark night.
I took all this in, and then I turned to the right and looked at thenext house. I saw as much as I expected; more, enough to set my heartbeating. The dormer window next to that from which I leaned, and on alevel with it, was open; if I might judge from the stream of lightwhich poured through it, and was every now and then cut off as if by amoving figure that passed at intervals between the casement and thecandle. Who or what this was I could not say. It might be Marie; itmight not. But at the mere thought I leaned out farther, and greedilymeasured the distance between us.
Alas! between the dormer-gable in which I stood and the one in thenext house lay twelve feet of steep roof, on which a cat would havebeen puzzled to stand. Its edge towards the street was guarded by nogutter, ledge, or coping-stone, but ended smoothly in a frail, woodenwaterpipe, four inches square. Below that, yawned a sheer, giddy drop,sixty feet to the pavement of the street. I drew in my head with ashiver, and found Herr Krapp at my elbow.
'Well,' he said, 'what do you see?'
'The next window is open,' I answered. 'How can I get to it?'
'Ah!' he replied dryly, 'I did not undertake that you should.' He tookmy place at the window and leaned out in his turn. He had set thecandle in a corner where it was sheltered from the draught. I strodeto it, and moved it a little in sheer impatience--I was burning to beat the window again. As I came back, crunching the scraps of mortarunderfoot, my eyes fell on a bit of old dusty rope lying coiled on thefloor, and in a second I saw a way. When Herr Krapp turned from thewindow he missed me.
'Hallo!' he cried. 'Where are you, my friend?'
'Here,' I answered, from the head of the stairs.
As he advanced, I came out of the darkness to meet him, staggeringunder the bundle of pallets which I had seen lying by the stair-head.He whistled.
'What are you going to do with those?' he said.
'By your leave, I want this rope,' I answered.
'What will you do with it?' he asked soberly. He was one of thoseeven-tempered men to whom excitement, irritation, fear, are allforeign.
'Make a loop and throw it over the little pinnacle on the top ofyonder dormer,' I answered briefly, 'and use it for a hand-rail.'
'Can you throw it over?'
'I think so.'
'The pinnacle will hold?'
'I hope so.'
He shrugged his shoulders, and stood for a moment staring at me as Iunwound the rope and formed a noose. At length: 'But the noise, myfriend?' he said. 'If you miss the first time, and the second, therope falling and sliding over the tiles will give the alarm.'
'Two cats ran along the ridge a while ago,' I answered. 'Once, and,perhaps, twice, the noise will be set down to them. The third time Imust succeed.'
I thought it likely that he would forbid the attempt; but he did not.On the contrary, he silently took hold of my belt, that I might leanout the farther and use my hands with greater freedom. Against thewindow I placed the bundle of pallets; setting one foot on them andthe other heel on the pipe outside, I found I could whirl the loopwith some chance of success.
Still, it was an anxious moment. As I craned over the dark street and,poising myself, fixed my eyes on the black, slender spirelet whichsurmounted the neighbouring window, I felt a shudder more than oncerun through me. I shrank from looking down. At last I threw: the ropefell short. Luckily it dropped clear of the window, and came homeagain against the wall below me, and so made no noise. The second timeI threw with better heart; but I had the same fortune, except that Inearly overbalanced myself, and, for a moment, shut my eyes in terror.The third time, letting out a little more rope, I struck the pinnacle,but below the knob. The rope fell on the tiles, and slid down themwith some noise, and for a full minute I stood motionless, half insidethe room and half outside, expecting each instant to see a hea
d thrustout of the other window. But no one appeared, no one spoke, though thelight was still obscured at intervals; and presently I took courage tomake a fourth attempt. I flung, and this time the rope fell with adull thud on the tiles, and stopped there: the noose was round thepinnacle.
Gently I drew it tight, and then, letting it hang, I slipped back intothe room, where we had before taken the precaution to put out thelight. Herr Krapp asked me in a whisper if the rope was fast.
'Yes,' I said. 'I must secure this end to something.'
He passed it round the hinge of the left-hand shutter and made itsafe. Then for a moment we stood together in the darkness.
'All right?' he said.
'All right,' I answered hoarsely.
The next moment the thing was done. I was outside, the rope in myhands, my feet on the bending pipe, the cool night air round mytemples--below me, sheer giddiness, dancing lights, and blackness. Forthe moment I tottered. I balanced myself where I stood, and clung tothe rope, shutting my eyes. If the pinnacle had given way then, I musthave fallen like a plummet and been killed. One crash against the wallbelow, one grip at the rope as it tore its way through my fingers--andan end!
But the pinnacle held, and in a few seconds I gained wit and courage.One step, then another, and then a third, taken warily, along thepipe, as I have seen rope-walkers take them at Heritzburg fair, and Iwas almost within reach of my goal. Two more, and, stooping, I couldtouch, with my right hand, the tiles of the little gable, while myleft, raised above my head, still clutched the rope.
Then came an anxious moment. I had to pass under the rope, which wasbetween me and the street, and between me and the window also--thewindow, my goal. I did it; but in my new position I found a newdifficulty, and a grim one, confronting me. Standing outside the ropenow, with my right hand clinging to it, I could not, with all mystretching, reach with my other hand any part of the window, oranything of which I could get a firm grip. The smooth tiles andcrumbling mortar of the little gable gave no hold, while the rope, mygrip on which I dared not for my life relax, prevented me stoopingsufficiently to reach the sill or the window-case.
It was a horrible position. I stood still, sweating, trembling, andfelt the wooden pipe bend and yield under me. Behind me, the depth,the street, yawned for me; before me, the black roof, shutting off thesky. My head reeled, my fingers closed on the ropes like claws; for asecond I shut my eyes, and thought I was falling. In that moment Iforgot Marie--I forgot everything, except the pavement below, thecruel stones, the depth; I would have given all, coward that I was, tobe back in Herr Krapp's room.
Then the fit passed, and I stood, thinking. To take my hand from therope would be to fall--to die. But could I lower the rope so that,still holding it, I could reach the sill, or the hinges, or some partof the window-case that would furnish a grip? I could think of onlyone way, and that a dangerous one; but I had no choice, nor any timeto lose, if I would keep my head. I drew out my knife, and, leaningforward on the rope, with one knee on the tiles, I began to sever thecord as far away to my right as I could reach. This was to cut off myretreat--my connection with the window I had left; but I dared not letmyself think much of that or of anything. I hacked away in a frenzy,and in a twinkling the rope flew apart, and I slipped forward on thetiles, clutching the piece that remained to me in a grasp of iron.
So far, good! I was trembling all over, but I was safe, and I lost nota moment in passing the loose end twice round the fingers of my righthand. This done, only one thing remained to be done--only one thing:to lean over the abyss, trusting all my weight to the frail cord, andto grope for the sill. Only that! Well, I did it. My hair stood upstraight as the pinnacle groaned and bent under my weight; my eyesmust have been astare with terror; all my flesh crept. I clung to theface of the gable like a fly, but I did it! I reached the sill,clutched it, loosed the rope, and in a moment was lying on my breast,half in and half out of the window--safe!'
I do not know how long I hung there, recovering my breath andstrength, but I suppose only a minute or two, though it seemed to mean hour. A while before I should have thought such a position, withoutfoothold, above the dizzy street, perilous enough. Now it seemed to besafety. Nevertheless, as I grew cooler I began to think of getting in,of whom I should find there, of the issue of the attempt. Andpresently, lifting one leg over the sill, I stretched out a hand anddrew aside a scanty curtain which hid the room from view. It was thiscurtain that, rising and falling with the draught, had led me topicture a figure moving to and fro.
There was no one to be seen, and for a moment I fancied that the roomwas empty. The light was on the other side, and my act disclosednothing but a dusky corner under a sloping roof. The next instant,however, a harsh voice, which shook the rafters, cried, with an oath--
'What is that?'
I let the curtain fall and, as softly as I could, scrambled over thesill. My courage came back in face of a danger more familiar; my handgrew steady. As I sat on the sill, I drew out a pistol; but I darednot cock it.
'Speak, or I shoot!' cried the same voice. 'One, two! Was it thewind--Himmel--or one of those cats?'
I remained motionless. The speaker, whose voice I seemed to know, wasclearly uncertain and a little sleepy. I hoped that he would not rousethe house and waste a shot on no better evidence; and I sat still inthe smallest compass into which I could draw myself. I could see thelight through the curtain, a makeshift thing of thin stuff,unbleached--and I tried to discern his figure, but in vain. At last Iheard him sink back, grumbling uneasily.
I waited a few minutes, until his breathing became more regular, andthen, with a cautious hand, I once more drew the curtain aside. As Ihad judged, the light stood on the floor, by the end of the pallet. Onthe pallet, his head uneasily pillowed on his arm, while the otherhand almost touched the butt of a pistol which lay beside the candle,sprawled the man who had spoken--a swarthy, reckless-looking fellow,still in his boots and dressed. His attitude as he slept, alone inthis quiet room, no less than the presence of the light and pistol,spoke of danger and suspicion. But I did not need the one sign or theother to warn me that my hopes and fears were alike realized. The manwas Ludwig!
I dropped the curtain again, and sat thinking. I could not hope toovercome such a man without a struggle and noise that must alarm thehouse; and yet I must pass him, if I would do any good. My only courseseemed to be to slip by him by stealth, open the door in the samemanner, and gain the stairs. After that the house would be open to me,and it would go hard with any one who came between me and Marie. I didnot doubt now that she was there.
I waited until his more regular breathing seemed to show that heslept, and then, after softly cocking my pistol, I set my feet to thefloor, and began to cross it. Unluckily my nerves were still ajar withmy roof-work. At the third step a board creaked under me; at the samemoment I caught a glimpse of a huge, dark figure at my elbow, andthough this was only my shadow, cast on the sloping roof by thecandle, I sprang aside in a fright. The noise was enough to awaken thesleeper. As my eyes came back to him he opened his and saw me, and,raising himself, in a trice groped for his pistol. He could not on theinstant find it, however, and I had time to cover him with mine.
'Have done!' I hissed. 'Be still, or you are a dead man!'
'Martin Schwartz!' he cried, with a frightful oath.
'Yes,' I rejoined; 'and mark me, if you raise a finger, I fire.'
He glared at me, and so we stood a moment. Then I said, 'Push thatpistol to me with your foot. Don't put out your hand, or it will bethe worse for you.'
He looked at me for a moment, his face distorted with rage, as if hewere minded to disobey at all risks; then he drew up his foot sullenlyand set it against the pistol. I stepped back a pace and for aninstant took my eyes from his--intending to snatch up the firearm assoon as it was out of his reach. In that instant he dashed out thelight with his foot; I heard him spring up--and we were in darkness.
The surprise was complete, and I did not fire; but I had the presenceof m
ind, believing that he had secured his pistol, to change myposition--almost as quickly as he changed his. However, he did notfire; and so there we were in the pitchy darkness of the room, botharmed, and neither knowing where the other stood.
I felt every nerve in my body tingle; but with rage, not fear. I darednot change my position again, lest a creaking board should betray me,now all was silent; but I crouched low in the darkness with the pistolin one hand and my knife drawn in the other, and listened for hisbreathing. The same consideration--we were both heavy men--kept himmotionless also; and I remember to this day, that as we waited,scarcely daring to breathe--and for my part each moment expecting theflash and roar of a shot--one of the city clocks struck slowly andsolemnly ten.
The strokes ceased. In the room I could not hear a sound, and I feltnervously round me with my knife; but without avail. I crouched stilllower, lower, with a beating heart. The curtain obscured the window,there was no moon, no light showed under the door. The darkness was socomplete that, but for a kind of fainter blackness that outlined thewindow, I could not have said in what part of the room I stood.
Suddenly a sharp loud 'thud' broke the silence. It seemed to come froma point so close to me that I almost fired on that side before I couldcontrol my fingers. The next moment I knew that it was well I had not.It was Ludwig's knife flung at a venture--and now buried, as Iguessed, an inch deep in the door--which had made the noise. Still,the action gave me a sort of inkling where he was, and, noiselesslyfacing round a trifle, I raised my pistol, and waited for somemovement that might direct my aim.
I feared that he had a second knife; I hoped that in drawing it fromits sheath he would make some noise. But all was still. Sharpen myears as I might, I could hear nothing; strain my eyes as I might, Icould see no shadow, no bulk in the darkness. A silence as of deathprevailed. I could scarcely believe that he was still in the room. Mycourage, hot and fierce at first, began to wane under the trial. Ifelt the point of his knife already in my back; I winced and longed tobe sheltered by the wall, yet dared not move to go to it. In anotherminute I think I should have fired at a sheer venture, rather thanbear the strain longer; but at last a sound broke on my ear. The soundwas not in the room, but in the house below. Some one was coming upthe stairs.
The step reached a landing, and I heard it pause; a stumble, and itcame on again up the next flight. Another pause, this time a longerone. Then it mounted again, and gradually a faint line of light shoneunder the door. I felt my breath come quickly. One glance at the door,which was near me on the right hand, and I peered away again,balancing the pistol in my hand. If Ludwig cried out or spoke, I wouldfire in the direction of the voice. Between two foes I was growingdesperate.
Before I could recover myself a pair of strong armsclosed round mine and bound them to my sides.]
The step came on and stopped at the door; still Ludwig held his peace.The new-comer rapped; not loudly, or I think I should have started andbetrayed myself--to such a point were my feelings wound up--but softlyand timidly. I set my teeth together and grasped my knife. Ludwig onhis part kept silence; the person outside, getting no answer, knockedagain, and yet again, each time more loudly. Still no answer. Then Iheard a hand touch the latch. It grated. A moment of suspense, and aflood of light burst in--close to me on my right hand--dazzling me. Ilooked round quickly, in fear; and there, in the doorway, holding ataper in her hand, I saw Marie--Marie Wort!
While I stood open-mouthed, gazing, she saw me, the light falling onme. Her lips opened, her breast heaved, I think she must have seen mydanger; but if so the shriek she uttered came too late to save me. Iheard it, but even as I heard it a sudden blow in the back hurled megasping to my knees at her feet. Before I could recover myself a pairof strong arms closed round mine and bound them to my sides.Breathless and taken at advantage I made a struggle to rise; but Iheaved and strained without avail. In a moment my hands were tied, andI lay helpless and a prisoner.
After that I was conscious only of a tumult round me; of a womanshrieking, of loud trampling, and lights and faces, among theseTzerclas' dark countenance, with a look of fiendish pleasure on it.Even these things I only noted dully. In the middle of all I waswool-gathering. I suppose I was taken downstairs, but I remembernothing of it; and in effect I took little note of anything until, mybreath coming back to me, I found myself being borne through adoorway--on the ground floor, I think--into a lighted room. A man heldme by either arm, and there were three other men in the room.