CHAPTER XLVI
ARDIFFERY MANSE
In the dreary time of waiting I talked with the detective chief.Everything which he told me seemed to torture me; but there was a weirdfascination in his experience as it bore on our own matter. I was faceto face, for the first time in my life, with that callousness which isthe outcome of the hard side of the wicked world. Criminal-hunters, aswell as criminals, achieve it; so I suppose do all whose fortunes bringthem against the sterner sides of life. Now and again it amazed me tohear this man, unmistakably a good fellow and an upright one, weighingup crime and criminals in a matter-of-fact way, without malice, withoutanger, without vindictiveness. He did seem to exercise in his habitualthought of his _clientele_ that constructive condemnation which swaysthe rest of us in matters of moral judgment. The whole of his work, andattitude, and purpose, seemed to be only integral parts of a game whichwas being played. At that time I thought light of this, and consequentlyof him; but looking back, with judgment in better perspective, I am ableto realise the value of just such things. There was certainly morechance of cooler thought and better judgment under these conditions,than when the ordinary passions and motives of human life held sway.This man did not seem to be chagrined, or put out personally in any way,by the failure of his task, or to have any rancour, from this cause, inhis heart for those to whom the failure was due. On the contrary, he,like a good sportsman, valued his opponent more on account of thecleverness which had baffled him. I imagined that at first he wouldhave been angry when he learned how all the time in which he and hiscompanions had been watching Crom Castle, and were exulting in thesecurity which their presence caused, their enemies had been coming andgoing as they wished by a safe way, unknown; and had themselves been thewatchers. But there was nothing of the kind; I really believe that,leaving out of course the possibly terrible consequences of his failure,he enjoyed the defeat which had come to him. In his own way he put itcleverly:
"Those ducks knew their work well. I tell you this, in spite of thesofties we have been, it isn't easy to play any of us for a sucker. Justfancy! the lot of us on sentry-go day and night round the castle, for,mind you, we never neglected the job for one half hour; and all thetime, three lots of people--this push, you and the girl, and this Dagolord of yours--all going and coming like rabbits in a warren. Whatpuzzles me is how you and Miss Drake managed to escape the observationof Whisky Tommy's lot, even if you went through us!"
It had been after five o'clock when the party set out to visit themanses; at six o'clock the reports began to come in. The first was amessage scribbled on a leaf torn from a note book, and sent in one ofthe envelopes taken for the purpose.
"All right at Auquharney." From this on, messengers kept arriving,some on foot, some on horseback, some in carts: but each bearing asimilar message, though couched in different terms. They came fromAuchlenchries, Heila, Mulonachie, Ardendraught, Inverquohomery,Skelmuir, and Auchorachan. At nine o'clock the first of the searchersreturned. This was Donald MacRae; knowing the country he had been ableto get about quicker than any of the others who had to keep to themain roads. His report was altogether satisfactory; he had been to sixplaces, and in each of them there was no ground for even suspicion.
It was nearly three hours before the rest were in, but all with the samestory; in none of the manses let to visitors through an agent, and innone if occupied by their incumbents, could the fugitives have hidden.The last to come in were the two trackers, disappointed and weary. Theyhad lost the track several times; but had found it again on some crossroad. They had finally lost it in a dusty road near Ardiffery and hadonly given up when the light had altogether gone. They themselvesthought their loss was final, for they could not take up the trackwithin a quarter of a mile of either side of the spot where they hadlost it.
It was now too late to do anything more for this night; so, after ameal, all the men, except one who remained on watch, went to sleep for afew hours. We must start again before dawn. For myself I could not rest;I should have gone mad, I think, if I had to remain the night withoutdoing something. So I determined to wheel over to Whinnyfold and see howDon Bernardino had progressed. I was anxious, as I had not heard fromhim.
At Whinnyfold all was still, and there was no sign of light in thehouse. I had brought with me the duplicate key which I had given toMarjory, and which Mrs. Jack found for me on her dressing table; butwhen I inserted it, it would not turn. It was a Yale lock; and it wasnot likely that it should have got out of order without the use ofsome force or clumsiness. I put it down in the first instance to theinexperience of the Don in such mechanism. Anyhow, there was nothing tobe done as to entry by that way, so I went round to the back to see ifI could make an entry there. It was all safe, however; I had taken careto fasten every door and window on the previous night. As the front doorwas closed to me, it was only by force that I could effect entrance tomy own house. I knocked softly at the door, and then louder; I thoughtperhaps, for some reason to be explained, the Don had remained in thehouse and might now be asleep. There was no sound, however, and I beganto have grave doubts in my own mind as to whether something seriousmight have happened. If so, there was no time to lose. Anything havinggone wrong meant that the blackmailers had been there. If I had to breakopen the door I might as well do it myself; for if I should get helpfrom the village, discussion and gossip would at once begin, if onlyfrom the fact that I could not wait till morning.
I got a scaffold pole from the yard where some of the builder's materialstill remained, and managed by raising it on my shoulder and making aquick run forward to strike the door with it just over the lock. Theblow was most efficacious; the door flew open so quickly that the handlebroke against the wall of the passage. For a few seconds I paused,looking carefully round to see if the sound had brought any one to thespot; but all was still. Then carefully, and with my revolver ready inmy right hand and the lamp of my bicycle in my left, I entered thehouse.
A glance into each of the two sitting-rooms of the ground floor showedme that there was no one there; so I closed the hall-door again, andpropped it shut with the scaffold pole. Quickly I ran over the housefrom top to bottom, looking into every room and space where anyone couldhide. The cellar door was locked. It was odd indeed; there was not asign of Don Bernardino anywhere. With a sudden suspicion I turned intothe dining-room and looked on the table, where the several caskets whichwe had taken from the cave had lain.
There was not a sign of them! Some one had carried them off.
For a while I thought it must have been Don Bernardino. There came backto me very vividly the conversation which we had had in that very roomonly a day before; I seemed to see the red light of his eyes blazeagain, as when he had told me that he would not stop at anything togain possession of the treasure. It must have been, that when he foundhimself in possession, the desire overcame him to take away the treasureto where he could himself control it.
But this belief was only momentary. Hard upon its heels came theremembrance of his noble attitude when I had come to ask his help for awoman in distress--I who had refused his own appeal to my chivalry onlya few hours before. No! I would not believe that he could act so now. Instrength of my belief I spoke aloud: "No! I will not believe it!"
Was it an echo to my words? or was it some mysterious sound from the seabeneath? Sound there certainly was, a hollow, feeble sound that seemedto come from anywhere, or nowhere. I could not locate it at all. Therewas but one part of the house unsearched, so I got a great piece of woodand broke open the door of the cellar. There was no one in it, but thesquare hole in the centre of it seemed like a mystery itself. I listeneda moment; and the hollow sound came again, this time through the hole.
There was some one in the cave below, and the sound was a groan.
I lit a torch and leaning over the hole looked down. The floor belowwas covered with water, but it was only a few inches deep and out ofit came the face of the Spaniard, looking strangely white despite itsnatural swarthiness. I called to him. He eviden
tly heard me, for hetried to answer; but I could distinguish nothing, I could only hear agroan of agony. I rigged up the windlass, and taking with me a sparepiece of rope lowered myself into the cave. I found Don Bernardino justconscious; he was unable, seemingly, to either understand my questionsor to make articulate reply. I tied the spare rope round him, therebeing no time or opportunity to examine him as he lay in the water, andtaking the spare end with me pulled myself up again. Then, putting therope to which he was attached on the windlass, I easily drew him up tothe cellar.
A short time sufficed to give him some brandy, and to undress him andwrap him in rugs. He shivered at first, but the warmth soon began toaffect him. He got drowsy, and seemed all at once to drop asleep. I lita fire and made some tea and got provisions ready. In less than half anhour he awoke, refreshed and quite coherent. Then he told me all thathad passed. He had opened the door without trouble, and had looked intothe dining-room where he found the caskets still on the table. He didnot think of searching the house. He got a light and went into thecellar, leaving the door open, and set about examining the winch, so asto know the mechanism sufficiently well as to be able to raise and lowerhimself. Whilst stooping over the hole, he got a violent blow on theback of the head which deprived him of his senses. When he becameconscious again there were four men in the cellar, all masked. Hehimself was tied up with ropes and gagged. The men lowered each othertill only one remained on guard. He heard them calling to each other.After a long wait they had come back, all of them carrying heavy burdenswhich they began to haul up by the windlass. He said that it creakedloudly with the weight as they worked it. He had the unutterable chagrinof seeing them pack up in sacks and bags, extemporised from the materialin the house, the bullion of the treasure which his ancestor hadundertaken to guard, and to which he had committed his descendantsuntil the trust should have been fulfilled. When all was ready fordeparture--which was not for many hours, and when two of the men hadreturned with a cart of some sort, whose wheels he heard rumbling--theyconsulted as to what they should do with him. There was no disguise madeof their intent; all was spoken in his hearing with the most brutalfrankness. One man, whom he described as with grey lips of terrificthickness, and whose hands were black, was for knifing him at once orcutting his throat, and announced his own readiness to do the job. Hewas overruled, however, by another, presumably the leader of the gang,who said there was no use taking extra risks. "Let us put him into thecave," he said. "He may break his neck; but anyhow it does not matterfor the tide is rising fast and if anyone should come they will findthat he met his death by an accident."
This suggestion was carried out; he was, after the ropes and gag wereremoved with the utmost care but with the utmost brutality, lowered intothe cave. He remembered no more till the deadly silence around him wasbroken by the sound, seemingly far away, of a heavy blow on wood whichreverberated.
I examined him all over carefully, but could find no definite harm doneto him. This knowledge in itself cheered him up, and his strength andnerve began to come back; with his strength came determination. Hecould, however, tell me nothing of the men who had attacked him. He saidhe would know their voices again, but, what with their masks and hiscramped position, he could not see enough to distinguish anything.
Whilst he was recovering himself I looked carefully round the room andhouse. From the marks at one of the windows at the back I gathered thatthis was the means by which they had gained admission. They were experthousebreakers; and as I gathered from the detective that Whisky Tommywas a bank burglar--most scientific and difficult of all criminaltrades, except perhaps, banknote forgery--I was not surprised that theyhad been able to gain admittance. None of the jewels which Marjory and Ihad taken from the cave were left behind. The robbers had evidently madeaccurate search; even the rubies, which I had left in the pocket of theshooting-coat which I had worn in the cave, had disappeared.
One thing I gathered from their visit; they evidently felt secure as tothemselves. They dared not risk so long delay had not their preparationsbeen complete; and they must have been satisfied as to the mechanismof their escape since they could burden themselves with such weight oftreasure. Moreover, their hiding place, wherever it was, could not befar off. There were engaged in this job four men; besides, there wereprobably watchers. Marjory had only recorded in her cipher six engagedin her abduction, when presumably their full strength would have beenneeded in case of unexpected difficulties or obstacles. The SecretService chief presumed at least eight. I determined, therefore, that Iwould get back to Crom as soon as possible, and, with the aid of thisnew light, consult as to what was best to be done. I wanted to take DonBernardino with me, or to try to get a trap to take him on; but he saidhe would be better remaining where he was. "I can be of no use to anyone till I get over this shock," he said. "The rest here, if I remainlonger, will do me good; and in the morning I may be able to help." Iasked him if he was not afraid to be left alone in his present helplesscondition: His reply showed great common sense:
"The only people whom I have to fear are the last who will come to thisplace!"
I made him as comfortable as I could, and fixed the catch of the door sothat the lock would snap behind me. Then I got on my bicycle and rode toCrom as quickly as I could. As it was now nearly early morning the menwere getting ready for their day's work. Cathcart and I discussed thenew development with the detective chief. I did not tell him of thetreasure. It was gone; and all I could do was to spare the Spaniard'sfeelings. It was enough that they knew of the attack on Don Bernardino,and that they had taken from my house whatever was of value in it. As Iwent over the practical side of the work before us, I had an idea. Itwas evident that these men had some secret hiding place not far away;why should it not be an empty house? I made the suggestion to my twocompanions, who agreed with me that we should at once make search forsuch a place. Accordingly we arranged that one man of the force shouldgo into Ellon, as soon as it was possible to find any one up, andanother into Aberdeen to try to find out from various agents what housesin the district were at present unoccupied. In the meantime I lookedover the list of Manses and found that there were two which were openfor letting, but had not yet been occupied, Aucheries and Ardiffery. Wedetermined to visit the latter first, as it was nearer, amid a networkof cross roads on the high road to Fraserburgh. When we were arrangingplans of movement, the two trackers who wanted to resume their work saidthat we might put them down on our way, as the spot they aimed for layin the same direction. We left two men behind; the rest of us kepttogether.
As we drove along in the brake, the trackers showed us how they hadfollowed the carriage. It brought an agonising hope to me to think thatwe were actually travelling on the same road as Marjory had gone. I hada secret conviction that we were going right. Something within me toldme so. I had in former days--days that now seemed so long ago--when Irealised that I had the Second Sight, come to have such confidence in myown intuition that now something of the same feeling came back to me asa reality. Oh! how I longed that the mysterious gift might now be usedon behalf of her I loved. What would I not have given for one suchglimpse of her in her present situation, as I had before seen ofLauchlane Macleod, or of the spirits of the Dead from the Skares. But itis of the essence of such supernatural power that it will not work tocommand, to present need, to the voice of suffering or of prayer; butonly in such mysterious way and time as none can predicate. Whilst Ithought thus, and hoped thus, and prayed with all the intensity of mypoor breaking heart, I seemed to feel in me something of the mood inwhich the previous visions had come. I became lost to all surroundings;and it was with surprise that I became conscious that the carriage hadstopped and that the trackers were getting off. We arranged with themthat after our visit to the Manse at Ardiffery we should return forthem, or to see how they had got on with their task. They were nothopeful of following a two-day-old trail of a carriage on these dustyroads.
The cross road to Ardiffery branched off to our left, and then to theleft again; so
that when we came near the place, we were still withineasy distance, as the crow flies, from where we had left our men.
The Manse at Ardiffery is a lonely spot, close to the church, but quiteaway from the little clachan. The church stands in its own graveyard, ina hollow surrounded with a wall of considerable dimensions. The gardenand policies of the house seem as though carved out of the woodlandgrowth. There is a narrow iron gate, sheer in the roadway, and astraight path up to the front of the house; one arm branches to theright in a curved lane-way through fir trees leading to the stable andfarm offices at the back of the house. At the gateway was a board witha printed notice that the house, with grounds, gardens and policies,was to be let until Christmas. The key could be had from, and detailssupplied by, Mrs. MacFie, merchant at the Ardiffery cross roads. Thewhole place had a deserted air; weeds were growing everywhere, and,even from the roadway, one could see that the windows were fouled fromdisuse.
As we drew near, the odd feeling of satisfaction--I can hardly describeit more fully--seemed to grow in me. I was not exultant, I was scarcelyhopeful; but somehow the veil seemed to be lifting from my soul. We leftthe brake on the road, and went up the little avenue to the front of thehouse. For form's sake we knocked, though we knew well that if those wesought should be within there would be little chance of their respondingto our call. We left one man at the door, in case by any chance any oneshould come; the rest of us took the other way round to the back of thehouse. We had got about half way along it, where there was an openinginto the fields, when the detective chief who was in front of us held uphis hand to stop. I saw at a glance what had struck him.
Whilst the rest of the rough roadway was unkempt and weed-grown, thegravel from this on, to the back of the house, had been lately raked.
"Why?"
The only answer to the unspoken query of each of us was that Marjory hadmade some marks, intentionally or unintentionally--or some one had; andthe gang had tried to efface them.
Fools! their very effort to obliterate their trace was a help to us.