CHAPTER X THE ROPE IN THE DUNGEON
The light was gone at last and with it the professor's hope. He wastotally alone in the inky darkness, a prisoner in a cell whose size hewas not certain of, down under the ruins of a castle in the woods. Farabove him he could hear the slam of another door and the faint footstepsof the two men. Then there was complete silence and the teacher turnedaway from the barred door.
"A truly ancient castle," grumbled the professor. "The dungeon completedbefore the rest of the house!"
He wondered, as he moved cautiously around if anyone had ever been aprisoner in this cold and wet-smelling cell. He found his way aroundwithout difficulty, running his hands along the wall and extending hisfeet carefully. There was not a single object in the place, and he feltthat they had not expected to have him there, for there was no bed orchair in the place.
"Unless," thought the savant, as he continued to feel his way around."They wouldn't be decent enough to give me a chair or bed, anyway. Nouse in expecting mercy from villains like these, I suppose."
The walls were perfectly smooth, composed of sandstone, as was theentire castle. Ned had told his father that the opposite slope of themountain was almost wholly composed of this particular type of stone,and the original owner and builder had no doubt had it quarried anddragged to the spot, using Indians who had been taken captive by theSpaniards. Such was the professor's belief and it was reasonable. Evenin his anxiety to escape from these men he found himself taking aninterest in the place and resolved that if these men were ever cleanedout of it he would explore it thoroughly.
The floor was also of stone, wet and slippery, and for all the professorknew, the dwelling place of spiders and other crawling things. He hatedto sit down on it, but there was no other place and he was very tiredfrom his long ride and the excitement of it all, so he felt around thefloor with shrinking hand and finally found a spot near the door whichseemed to be drier than the rest of the floor. Pretty much exhausted thehistory professor sank to the floor and rested his back against the coldwall.
He was in some doubt as to what to do. He felt that Ned would catch onto his meaning when he read the word "duress" and the boys would surelymake a vigorous effort to find him, but how long that would be or whatwould happen in the meantime he had no idea. The men upstairs wereconvinced that he knew something about the treasure, that he possessedsome information which he was withholding, and they would do their bestto get it out of him. They would try to starve him first, and in thatfact he found a ray of hope, for it would take them several days to findout that he did not intend to say anything, and then they would adopt amore severe program. In that time Ned and the boys from Maine would havetime to find him, and they would naturally look near the mountains. Itwas possible that they might think he had been carried off to sea, butsurely the cook or Yappi would tell them the true facts of the case,provided they hadn't been so frightened that they hadn't even seen inwhich direction the cavalcade had gone.
But if the men decided to change their plans and try to pump informationfrom him he would have a bigger problem on his hands. These men were byno means gentle, they were men who were willing and able to sweat hardto earn money and especially dishonest money, and they would not belikely to stop at anything cruel or inhuman. They were miles away fromany source of help and the woods would effectually hide any story whichmight shock the outside world if it were known. Sackett and the matemust know that the boys would soon be on the trail, and he was inclinedto think that they would resort before very long to methods other thanpeaceful.
"If that is the case," thought Professor Scott, jumping to his feet,"I'm just wasting time by sitting here. There seems to be no way ofgetting out of the place, but it may be that there is some flaw thatwill ultimately prove my biggest help."
So once more he began to feel his way along the wall and then stopped asa new thought came to him. A few days before Ned had given him a cigarlighter, a somewhat unreliable engine that lighted once in a greatwhile, but which always gave off a bright flash when the little wheelwas turned by the thumb. It was in his vest pocket and he reached forit. He had not had any matches with him and had secretly lamented thefact, but now his main difficulty was in a fair way to be overcome.
He took the little case from his pocket and spun the wheel. A sputteringlittle flash was the answer, which lighted up the cell for a splitsecond and gave him his bearings. It was evident that the cigar lighterhad no intentions whatsoever of lighting for any length of time, but itat least gave forth a flash that threw the heavy stones into a sort ofbluish picture for an instant. Working it constantly the old gentlemanmoved around the dungeon, exploring the walls and floor, until somethingin one corner arrested his attention.
There was a crevice there, running from the floor to the ceiling and inthat crack was a moulded rope. The rope ended near the floor, and hungstraight down from a round hole in the ceiling above him. He took holdof the rope, to find it wet and slippery but fairly strong. The men hadevidently not seen it and he knew why. Anyone who stood in the room andthrew the beams of a lantern around would cast the light in a confusedway into the corners and so miss seeing the rope, which was deep in thecranny, and indeed the professor would not have seen it himself if hehad not been standing right at the crevice. Probably the men had nevergone over the walls inch by inch, and unless one did that the hiddenrope would surely escape their eye. But now that he had the rope, whatwas he to do with it?
He pulled on the rope and his answering came with a suddenness thatstartled him into stepping back hastily. Far above his head a bellpealed out sharply, shattering the silence of the mountain fastness withdisconcerting vigor. Nervously he dropped the lighter and then picked itup, his brow wet with a nervous perspiration.
"Great heavens!" murmured the professor. "I must stop that, or I'll havethem down on me."
Upstairs there was a moment of silence and then a sudden commotion. Achair fell over and he heard running footsteps. Apparently the upperdoor was opened, for he could hear the words of the men.
"What is ringing that bell?" he heard Sackett roar.
"You got me, captain," replied Abel, while rapid chattering in Mexicanreached the ears of the professor. "That bell is just up there in thetower and nobody can ring it. There must be ghosts in this place, I tellyou!"
"Keep shut about your ghosts!" snarled the leader. "What's that Mexicansaying?"
"He's howling prayers because he's scared," the mate said.
Understanding came over the professor all at once. One tall tower hadstruck his attention as they had approached the ruined castle and it wasevident that this tower had in it a large bell, placed there when thecastle was first built. The rope which the professor had pulled leddirectly to this bell, a circumstance of which the men upstairs knewnothing, and he found that fate had provided him with a weapon to workagainst them with telling force. Realizing in the long run what thiswould mean the teacher once more took hold of the rope.
"Somebody is ringing that bell," said Sackett, his tone ugly anduncertain. "Ain't there no way to get up in that tower and stop it?"
"No," answered Abel. "The tower has no steps and it's no use anyway. Itell you a spirit is ringing that bell! I knew I hadn't ought to havecome in on a game like this."
"Oh, shut up," growled Sackett. "It isn't ringing anymore."
But at that moment the bell rang out, and this time the professor usedit effectively. With long sweeping strokes he tolled it, so that themelancholy sounds sounded out and over the country for miles. It was asolemn and fearful sound, and the men above were thoroughly awed andfrightened by it.
"Go see if that professor has escaped from his cell," ordered Sackett,as the professor paused in his labors. "He may be out and doing thissomehow."
The professor thanked his lucky stars that he had overheard this bit ofconversation and gave the bell a final toll. Then he quickly resumed hisplace near the door, holding onto the bars and peering a
nxiously out asthe mate came down the stairs with the lantern.
The man flashed the light full in the face of the professor, who blinkedand threw up his hand to cover his eyes. At the same time he eagerlyquestioned the mate.
"Why is that bell ringing? What does it mean? Why is there a bell here?"he cried.
The mate looked troubled but attempted to pass it off. "You mind yourown business," he said, in a surly tone. At the same time he pressedclose to the door and flashed the light into the dungeon, lookingintently at the corners. Without another word he went back up thewinding stairs, and before he closed the door the professor heard himsay: "The old man is all right. He hasn't been out of the cell and hecouldn't ring the bell. I tell you----"
That was as much as Professor Scott heard but it was enough to satisfyhim. His best plan was now to mystify the men in the hope of terrifyingthem so that they would leave the place and take him somewhere else.Whether that would in the end be a better move or not he did not know,but it was at least better than waiting and wasting time, and it wouldserve to bring Ned and the boys to the spot. There was no doubt that thesound could be heard far from the mountain, and he had no doubt that itwould be of great value to him.
Feeling that it would do him no good to keep on tolling the bell he gaveup the task for the time being, planning to ring it wildly in the verymiddle of the night. The men would no doubt be asleep and he could ringit out in such a way as to bring them to their feet with fast beatinghearts, convinced that the place was haunted by a spirit that rang thebell. If they persisted in staying even after that he would keep ringingthe bell at intervals, taking care not to break the rope, which,fortunately for him had originally been tarred and so was preserved.
With that thought in mind the professor pulled his coat more closelyaround him, curled himself up on the hard floor and went to sleep. Hissleep was fitful and restless, and after two hours of it he had theimpression that something nearby was scratching. Awakening at last hesat up, wide awake in an instant, to find that the steady scratchingsound was no dream, but an actual fact, and seemed to come from the wallbeside him.