Chapter 20
CHAPTER II. THE ENCHANTED CHAIRS More than ten minutes had elapsed since Week's departure, and Mr. Thornicroft, who had hitherto had some difficulty in repressing his anger, now began to give vent to it in muttered threats His impatience was shared by the tinker, who, stepping up to Ginger, said, What the devil can Mr. Riggs be about? I hope nothing has happened to him.
Don't mention a certain gent's name here, remarked Ginger, or, if he do, treat it with proper respect. Pshhaw! exclaimed the tinker impatiently. I don't like a man staying away in this manner. It looks suspicious. I oppose. We go and seize Arthur him. We can leave the old gent to take a quiet nap by himself. Don't disturb yourself, sir. We'll only just give a look about us, and then come back. Stay where you are, rascal! cried Thornicroft angrily. I won't be left. Stay where you are, I command you.
Well, we've got a new captain, I'm thinking, said the tinker, winking at the others. We've no wish to disabledge you, sir. I'll only just peep out into the hall, and see if Mr. Riggs is anywhere thereabouts. Where is Zones? he added as he tried the door. It's locked. What's locked? cried Thornicroft in dismay. The door, to be sure? replied the tinker. We're prisoners. Oh, Lord, you don't say so, cried the iron merchant in an agony of fright. What will become of us?
A roar of laughter from the others converted his terror into fury. I see how it is, he cried. You haven't trapped me, ruffians. It's all a trick. You mean to murder me, but I'll sell my life dearly. The first who approaches shall have his brains blown out. And as he spoke, he levelled a pistol at the tinker's head. Wallow! What are you after, sir? cried that individual sheltering his head with his hands.
You're a laboring under a mistake, a complete mistake. If it is a trap, we're catched in it as well as yourself. To be sure we is, added the sandman. Sit down and wait a bit. I did say Mr. Riggs will come back, and it won't do no good getting into a passion. Well, well, I must resign myself, I suppose, groaned Thornicroft sinking into a chair. It's a terrible situation to be placed in, shut up in a haunted house. I've been in many much worse situations, observed Ginger, and I always found the best way to get out of them was to take things quietly. Besides, there's no help for it, said the tinker, seating himself.
That remains to be seen, observed the sandman, taking the chair opposite Thornicroft. If Riggs don't come back soon, I'll bust open the door. Plenty of time for that, said Ginger, sauntering towards the table on which the provisions were spread. What do you say to a mouthful of whittles? I wouldn't touch them for the world, replied the sandman. Nor I, added the tinker. They might be poisoned.
Poisoned? Nonsense, cried Ginger. Don't you see someone has been taking his supper here? I'll just finish it for him. With all my heart, said the tinker. Don't touch it on any account, cried Mr. Thornicroft. I agree with your companions. It may be poisoned. Oh, I interfered, cried Ginger, helping himself to a dish before him. As good a pigeon pie as ever I tasted. Your health, Mr. Thornicroft, he added, filling a goblet from one of the bottles. My service to you, gents.
Famous tipple by Jove. Drawing a long breath after the draft, and smacking his lips with amazing satisfaction. Never tasted such a glass of wine in all my born days, he continued, replenishing the goblet. I wonder what's it called? Prosic acid, replied Mr. Thornicroft gruffly. Prusic fiddlestick, cried Ginger. More likely tokay. I shall finish the bottle, and never be diverse for it.
He's getting swipey, said the tinker. I wonder whether it's really tokay. No such thing, cried Thornicroft. Let him alone. I must taste it, said the tinker, unable to resist the temptation. Here, give us a glass, Ginger. With pleasure, replied Ginger, filling a goblet to the brim and handing it to him. You'd better be prevailed upon, Sandy. Well, I suppose I must, replied the sentman, taking the goblet proffered him.
Here's to Beak's health, cried Ginger. I gives that toast, cos they're always so kind to us dog fanciers. Dog fanciers? Say rather, dog stealers, for that's the name such vagabonds deserve to be known by, said Mr. Thornicroft with some asperity. Well, we won't quarrel about names, replied Ginger, laughing. But I'll relay the circumstance to you, as I'll prove that whatever your opinion of our vocation may be, the Beak's upholds it. There can be but one opinion as to your nefarious profession, said Mr. Thornicroft, and that is that it's as bad as horse stealing and sheep stealing and should be punished as those offences are punished. So I think, sir, said Ginger, winking at the others. But to my story, and don't interrupt me, or I can't get through with it properly, there's a gent living not a hundred miles from Pall Mall, as the newspaper says, as had a favorite Scotch Terrier.
Not worth more than half a crown to anyone but himself, but highly vulnerable to him, cos it was a favorite. Well, the dog is lost. A pal of mine gets hold on it, and the gent soon offers a reward for its recovery. This don't bring it back quite as soon as he expects, cos he don't offer enough. So he goes to an agent, Mr. Simpkins, in the Edger Road. And Mr. Simpkins says to him, says he, But it is a great favorite, and has given him a precious sight of trouble in getting it. Give him trouble? cries the gent angrily. And what has it given me? I hope to see the rascal hanged. I shall pay no such money.
Very well, replies Mr. Simpkins coolly. Then your dog will be bled to death, as the nobleman's woes, and thrown down a breathless carcass before your door. You don't mean to say that such a horrid circumstance as that really took place, cried Thornycroft, who was much interested in the relation. Only the other day, I assure you, replied Ginger. I'd shoot the ruffian who treated a dog of mine so if I caught him, cried Mr. Thornycroft indignantly. And serve him right too, said Ginger. I discourage his all cruelty to animals, but don't interrupt me again.
Arthur a bit more chaffering with Mr. Simpkins. The gent offers three pound for his dog, and then goes away. Next day, he reads a report in the Times newspaper that a man has been taken up for dog stealing, and that a lot of dogs is shut up in the green yard behind the police office in Bow Street. So he goes there in search of his favorite, and sure enough he finds it. But the inspector won't give it up to him, cause the superintendent is out of the way. Shameful, cried Mr. Thornycroft. Shameful indeed, sir, echoed Ginger laughing. Thinking his dogs save enough in the hands of the police, the gent sleeps soundly that night. But when he goes back next morning, he finds it has disappeared.
The green yard has been broken into overnight, and all the dogs stolen from it. Under the noses of the police, cried Thornycroft. Under their very noses, replied Ginger. But now comes the cream of the jest. You shall hear what the beaks says to him when the gent craves his assistance. I can't interfere in the matter, says he, a bending of his brows in a majestic manner. Parties don't ought to come here with complaints of which I can't take notice. This place ain't an advertising office, and I shan't suffer it to be made one.
I won't listen to statements affecting the characters of absent parties. Statements affecting our characters. Do you tweak that, sir? I do indeed, said Thornycroft sighing, and I am sorry to think such a remark should have dropped from the bench. You're right to say it dropped from it, sir, laughed Ginger. I told you the beaks was our best friends, they always take our parts. When the gent urges that it was a subject of serious importance to all dog owners, the magistrate angrily interrupts him, saying, Then let there be a meeting of dog owners to discuss their grievances. Don't come to me, I can't help you.
And he wouldn't if he could, cause he's the dog fanciest friend. It looks like it I must own, replied Thornycroft. Such reprehensible indifference gives encouragement to people of your profession. Government itself is to blame. As all persons who keep dogs pay a tax for them, their property ought to be protected. I'm quite satisfied with the present state of the law, said Ginger. Here's the worthy beak. I'll drink his health a second time. Hello, what's that? cried the tinker. I thought I heard the noise.
So did I, rejoined the sent men. A strange sort of rumbling sound overhead. There it goes again, cried Ginger. What an awful din! Now it's underneath, said Mr. Thornycroft, turning pale and trembling. It sounds as if some hidden machinery were at work. The noise, which up to this moment had borne an indistinct resemblance to the creaking of wheels and pulleys, now increased to a violent clatter, while the house was shaken as if by the explosion of a mine beneath it.
At the same time, the occupants of the chairs received a sharp electrical shock that agitated every limb and caused Mr. Thornycroft to let fall his pistol, which went off as it reached the ground. At the same time, the sent men dropped his goblet and the tinker relinquished his grasp of the cutlass. Before they could recover from the shock, all three were caught by stout wooden hooks, which, detaching themselves from the back of the chairs, pinioned their arms while their legs were restrained by fetters which sprang from the ground and clasped round their ankles. Thus fixed, they struggled vainly to get free. The chairs seemed nailed to the ground, so that all efforts to move them proved futile.
But the worst was to come. From the holes in the ceiling already alluded to, descended three heavy bell-shaped helmets, fashioned like those worn by divers at the bottom of the sea and having round eyelet holes of glass. It was evident from the manner of their descent that these helmets must drop on the heads of the sitters, a conviction that filled them with inexpressible terror. They shouted and swore frightfully, but their vociferations availed them nothing. Down came the helmets, and the same moment the monkey, which had been seen by reeks, issued from a cupboard at the top of a cabinet, and grinned and gibbered at them.
Down came the first helmet and covered the tinker to the shoulders. His appearance was at once ludicrous and terrible, and his roaring within the cask sounded like the bellowing of a baited bull. Down came the second helmet, though rather more slowly, and the sandman was eclipsed in the same manner as the tinker, and roared as loudly. In both these instances the helmets had dropped without guidance, but in the case of Mr. Thornycroft, a hand thrust out of the hole in the ceiling helped the helmet suspend it over his head, like the sword of Damocles. While the poor iron merchant momentarily expected the same doom as his companions, his attention was attracted towards the monkey, which, clinging with one hand to the side of the cabinet, extended the other skinny arm towards him and exclaimed, Will you swear to go hence if you are spared?
No, I will not, replied the iron merchant. He had scarcely spoken when the helmet fell with a jerk, and extinguished him like the others. Ginger alone remained. During the whole of this strange scene he had stood with the bottle in hand, transfixed with terror and astonishment, and wholly unable to move or cry out. A climax was put to his fright by the descent of the three chairs with their occupants through the floor into a vault beneath, and as the helmets were whisked up again to the ceiling and the trapdoors closed upon the chairs, he dropped the bottle and fell with his face upon the table. He was, however, soon roused by a pull at his hair while a shrill voice called him by his name. Who is it? groaned the dog fancier.
Look up! cried the speaker, again plucking his hair. Ginger complied and beheld the monkey seated beside him. Why, it can't be surely! he cried, and yet I could almost swear it was old Pall. Here near the mark, replied the other with a shrill laugh. It is your venerable friend. What the deuce are you doing here? and in distress, or rather undress, inquired Ginger. When I see you this morning, you was in the service of Mr. Loftus. I've got a new master since then, replied the dwarf.
I'm sorry to hear it, said Ginger, shaking his head. You haven't sold yourself like Dr. Forster, eh? Forster's my dear Ginger, not Forster, corrected old Pall. No, no, I've made no bargain, and to be plain with you, I have no desire to remain long in my present master's service. I don't like to ask the question too directly, venerable, said Ginger in a deprecatory tone. But is your master, ahem, is he, ahem, the, the...
The devil, you would say? supplied old Pall. Between ourselves, I'm afraid there is no denying it. La, what a horrible idea, exclaimed Ginger with a shudder. It makes the flesh creep on one's bones. Ten we're in your master's power? Very like it, replied old Pall.
And there ain't no chance of deliverance? None that occurs to me. Oh, Lord, oh, Lord, groaned Ginger. I'll repent, I'll become a reformed character. I'll never steal dogs no more. In that case there may be some chance for you, said old Pall.
I think I could help you to escape. Come with me, and I'll try and get you out. But what is to become of the others? demanded Ginger. Ah, leave them to their fate, replied old Pall. No, that'll never do, cried Ginger. We're all in the same boat, and we must throw out together the best way we can.
I tell you what it is, venerable, he added, seizing him by the throat. Your master may be the devil, but you're mortal, and if you don't help me to deliver my companions, I'll squeeze your windpipe for you. That's not the way to induce me to help you, said old Pall, twisting himself like an eel out of the other scribe. Now get out if you can. Don't be angry, cried Ginger, seeing the mistake he had committed and trying to conciliate him.
I only meant to frighten you a bit. Can you tell me if Mr. Oriol Darcy is here? Yes, he is, and a close prisoner, replied old Pall. And the girl, Miss Eber, what of her? I can't say, rejoined old Pall. I can only speak to the living. Then she's dead, cried Ginger with a look of horror.
That's a secret, replied the dwarf mysteriously, and I am bound by a terrible oath not to disclose it. I'll have it out of you notwithstanding, muttered Ginger. I wish you would lend me a knock on the head, old fellow. I can't help thinking I've got a terrible fit of the nightmare. Let this waken you then, said old Pall, giving him a sound buffet on the ear. Hello, venerable, not so hard, cried Ginger.
Hehehe, screamed the dwarf. You know what you're about now. Not exactly, said Ginger. I wish I was fairly out of this cursed place. You shouldn't have ventured into the lions then, said old Pall in the taunting tone. But come with me, and perhaps I may be able to do something towards your liberation. So saying, he drew aside the tapestry and opened the panel behind it, through which he passed, and beckoned Ginger to follow him.
Taking a pistol from his pocket, the latter complied.
