menu_book Chapter 17

CHAPTER IV. THE BATTLE OF THE SPARE BEDROOM All imposture weakens confidence and chills benevolence. When the sage finds that you're not what you seemed, he will feel the resentment natural to a man who discovers that he has been tricked.

RASALAS. CHAPTER 46. The dreamless sleep in which Raoul was sunk was still dreamless, but not so deep as when Miss Lavinia had made her incursion into his bedchamber, for a slight sound echoed down to him where he lay in oblivion as at the bottom of a well.

And though the sound was not actively registered by his mind, it disturbed him, and with a muttered exclamation he flung up his arm and turned over onto his back. The movement jolted him still nearer to consciousness, so that his body, at least, realized the space and comfort of what it was lying on, after the cramped hammock and suffocating darkness and too close companionship.

And at last the fully sentient Raoul himself became aware that he was surrounded by light, air, and silence instead of the usual noisy, fetid gloom in which he slept. He opened his eyes for the start and remembered where he was, and saw that he had most reprehensibly left the candles burning when sleep overtook him. Oh, but surely there was a fresh source of light in the room by that cupboard door.

Raoul turned his head to see, and his heart stood still within him. There, a branched candlestick in his left hand stood Captain Harvey Barrington, looking at him with an expression there was no misreading. In his other hand was that which very effectively backed up the expression. "'If you move, I shall fire,' he said briefly."

But the words were not out of his mouth before Raoul was off the bed and at the door, and to stay there. The key was gone. Backed against its panels, his breath coming fast, his hands clenched, he faced the leveled pistol again.

"'Yes, that place will do as well as any other,' observed Harvey coolly, and without removing his eyes from him or lowering the barrel he set down the light on the nearest table. Now make over everything you have. Plans, papers, money. I know what you are."

The bitter shock had not deprived Raoul of his wits, and they worked quickly. Since Captain Barrington could not have come in through this locked door, even though now presumably he had possessed himself of the key, there must have been another entrance to that cupboard after all. If he could only get him to move away from it, Raoul gave what had all the appearance

of being an involuntary glance towards the little valise lying on the center table, even at the risk of a bullet, made a tiny, instantly checked movement towards it. His maneuver told, though Harvey did not abandon his post. "'Bring that thing here,' he commanded. But Raoul did not move.

"'Who is it likely? Go and get it yourself. You cannot terrorize me with that pistol, because I do not care whether you shoot me or no.' Harvey gave a very disagreeable smile.

"'I shall take great care not to kill you outright, and as I am a dead shot I can hit you exactly where I please. Break your leg for choice. I shall count five. I do not threaten twice.

One, two, three.' An excuse for altering his tactics was just what Raoul wanted now. He went slowly and with apparent unwillingness to the center table, Captain Barrington keeping him covered the while, and took up the valise. "'Bring it over here and put it down by the candlestick.

Now take out all its contents, one thing at a time, and lay them beside it.' During his moment Raoul removed a clean shirt, a brush and comb, a pair of stockings, and began to take out the night-shirt. Then, suddenly flinging this at his captor's head, he made a spring past him for the cupboard door.

But Harvey was on the watch, too, and a boxer, and as he saw the white folds coming at him he sidestepped, grasped Raoul by the throat with his left hand, and hurled him off with such violence that the young man was spun back as far as the foot of the bed, his shirt ripped to the waist. "'For it is no good trying that,' said Harvey contemptuously.

And besides, my man is in the other room now.' He raised his voice. "'And Jeremy?' "'Here, sir.' "'Stand by to stop him coming through if he tries it again.'

"'Ay, ay, sir.' And assured of his reinforcements, Captain Barrington viewed with sardonic indifference the dash his quarry then made for the further window, the feverish way in which he tugged aside the curtains, threw up the sash, and thrust his head out. "'Is there light enough for you to see what is waiting for you down below there?'

inquired Harvey. "'I hope so, because I don't particularly want your corpse impaled on my railings.' His tone, however, did not suggest that the contingency would greatly trouble him, and he turned, keeping no more than half an eye on the suddenly rigid figure by the window, and tipped out the few remaining articles in the valise on to the table.

But except for a purse with a little silver, he drew blank, and the fellow, who must have more than that, had tricked him again. As for Raoul himself, his vision of escape by the window had indeed been brief. It was no wonder that Captain Barrington had not opposed his opening it. There was light enough for him to see what was waiting for him down at the bottom of

the bare creeperless wall. The horrible chevaux de frise of long spikes turned in every direction, impossible to escape by jumping or dropping. And climbing down was out of the question, for there was no foothold of any sort, not even a pipe.

He remained there without moving, despair in his heart, while the soft, inflowing night air mocked him with its associations of space and freedom. "'Come, turn out your pockets, without more ado,' came Captain Barrington's voice harshly, for it is no good deferring the inevitable. "'Give up without a struggle, his only means of procuring liberty, and give up at his bidding.'

Juliana smuggled money. All the concentrated horror of the place from which her devotion had succeeded in extricating him rushed past Raoul in a hurricane of memory and resolution. He would never let himself be sent back alive. But if ever he succeeded in leaving this house, which he had so foolishly entered, without

money or disguise or even adequate clothing, his plight would be hopeless. And yet how could he avoid having the money taken from him in the end? He loosed the curtain which his hand was gripping and faced his captor. "'Haven't you any pity, Captain Barrington?' he asked in a low, difficult voice. "'None,' responded Hervey.

"'You worked out the vein too successfully this evening. How damn you!' he added, almost inaudibly. It was true. Raoul knew it. He had been too successful for pardon.

And yet what else could he have done but pit his wits against the Englishman's?' "'Oh, it is of no use thinking of any more moving stories to play off on me,' resumed Hervey, bitter mockery in his tone. You cannot expect to fool even me any more.' Nor,' he added, as Raoul seemed about to speak, "'was it any use telling me your own?

I will not listen to it.' "'You have already heard it,' said Raoul rather unsteadily, except that I changed the name of the Hulk. I was in the Ganges.' "'Oh, indeed.

Well, it will be pleasant to return to familiar scenes, though I suppose the ship's black hole will receive you for a while first. Have you sampled it yet?' Raoul came forward a little. He was as white as his torn shirt.

"'If you think I am going back alive to that hell, Captain Barrington, you are mistaken.' His voice shook, but speech poured out of him so hot and fast that it was impossible to stop him. "'You can stand there, in no danger of cruelty yourself, and use words which prove that you know to what you are condemning a fellow creature.

I would not send my worst enemy to a prison ship. And no, not even the man whose practices sent me there. And what have I done to you? Did you expect me, and directly you addressed me, against my will, on the road, and to tell you exactly who and what I was?

Oh my God, you would not care how many lies you told if you were fighting for your life. Yes, for your life. I was strong and well when I went to the Ganges. But go through even a few months of that degradation and starvation, and see what you are like at the end of them, and whether you would not almost sell what soul is left to you,

rather than endure them again. And I am a prisoner of war, an officer like yourself, taken in fair fight, as you may be some day. No, you shall hear me. My name is Cole de Sableyag, a captain in the Third Hussars, and I am by rights a parole

prisoner. But first I was sent to Norman Cross on a false accusation, and then to the Hulks, for attempting to escape from an imprisonment which I had never merited. Would you not have done the same? And why should your country treat me as a criminal?"

"'Because,' said Harvey, a certain merciless satisfaction in his eyes. And she happens, like most civilized nations, to regard the breach of military parole as a crime. Your case, I see, is plain, M. Raoul de Sableyag, and only too common amongst your compatriots. I really wonder at the leniency which sent you to Norman Cross instead of direct to the

Hulks. That is the more fitting place for a parole breaker." "'I'm not a parole breaker.' "'For what were you sent to Norman Cross, then?' "'No, I don't want to hear another furraco of lies.

Thanks. I've lost interest in your inventions. I only want—' "'But Raoul broke in stormily.' "'I see.

There's no justice in England, and it is useless to plead with any Englishman in uniform. You too, you do not know what it is to suffer injustice. You are of those who dispense it. If you knew a little—' "'That is enough.'

Harvey stopped him, his face suddenly darkened. I've listened to sufficient falsehoods. I'm not called upon to hear insults. You will be sent over your money and papers, and we will conclude this interview. In the morning you will be taken back to the Ganges to find what scope you can for your

peculiar talents.' He had had the pistol in his hand all this while, though he had dropped the barrel. With these words he raised it and once more covered his prisoner. "'Now, please.' Raoul put his hands behind him.

"'You can rob me, Captain Barrington,' he said, slowly, coldly. And rolling the Rs. more than was habitual with him in English. Because I am in your power, in your house, to which you invited me. But I think you will not send me back to the Ganges to-morrow.' "'Indeed,' retorted Harvey, with an appearance of interest.

"'And how are you going to prevent me?' "'As-sie,' said Raoul between his teeth, his hands coming forward very subtly, and he launched himself at his enemy like a panther. He was so quick that he took Harvey by surprise and got within the pistol's guard. His hands sought Captain Barrington's throat, and for a second or two they really wrestled,

Harvey being hampered by the cocked pistol, which he feared to drop lest it should go off and which he was equally determined not to use. Nor would he have called to Jeremy, but that worthy, hearing trampling feet, burst unsummoned through the cupboard, and at that Raoul, seeing that it was going to be taken in the rear, relaxed his grip.

This was Harvey's opportunity. He also let go, stepped back a foot or two, and then his left fist, shooting out like lightning, landed a punishing blow on his assailant's mouth. Raoul's arms went wide. He reeled and would have gone down if Jeremy, hurrying round, had not caught, or rather

captured him. All right, Jeremy, though I didn't need you, said his master. Can't he stand? Put him in that chair, and when he comes to you can turn out his pockets. No, not yet.

Wait a moment. The ex-Coxen deposited Raoul, unresisting and half-dazed, in the chair in which he had sat to eat his supper. Hardly knowing what he did, the young man put his elbows on the table, his head between his hands, and stared at the splashes of blood from his mouth as they appeared on the

inlaid rosewood. Finally, he reached out a shaking hand for the napkin which still lay there and held it to his lips. It was not consideration in Harvey Barrington which caused him to leave his prisoner time to recover.

Far from it. He had been so deeply humiliated himself. His self-esteem had taken so intolerable a wound that if, as he guessed, it would humiliate as well as anger this young trickster to have his last hope taken from his own person, he should not suffer that ignominy hardly knowing what was happening to him.

To ascertain whether he was still in that condition or no, he came over to the table and spoke to him. How you brought that blow on yourself, he said harshly. Raoul raised his head. His eyes were extraordinarily bright.

He removed the blood-stained napkin and said, as distinctly as he could, for his cut and swollen lip, Oh, why did you not fire? Like a gentleman. Ha! was that what you were after?

exclaimed Harvey, a light breaking on him. No, my friend, and in any case let me tell you that I don't believe in these heroics. You will have got the better of them tomorrow. He made a sign to Jeremy. You can search him now.

The order brought Raoul, unsteady as he was, to his feet again, and his glance at Jeremy was such that that worthy mariner hesitated. Raoul then turned the look on Jeremy's master. Oh, what right have you to take my money? he demanded fiercely.

I never asked you to bring me into your house. If you will give it to me it will not have to be taken from you, was all that Captain Barrington replied. You will get ten guineas for betraying me, went on Raoul, tense and quivering. Oh, isn't that enough?

And you do not run any risk. Two of you armed. Now what are you waiting for? said Harvey sharply to his henchmen. He had reddened. The money must be in his breech's pocket.

This was obvious, since the torn shirt could now conceal nothing. The faithful Jeremy made to fling his weight upon the defiant figure, but before he could lay a finger on him Raoul had snatched up the nearest candlestick, which was tall and of heavy Sheffield plate, and had aimed a savage blow with its base at his head. It missed and took the sailor on the shoulder.

The next moment its giver was backed against the far wall by the window, clutching the a mace. Oh, you will have to divide that ten guineas, Captain Barrington, he called out. But Jeremy, whose temper was roused by the blow, gave him no second chance of using his weapon.

In the twinkling of an eye it was twisted out of his hand, and he himself pinned against the wall by sheer weight, his arms, and Jeremy's powerful grip spread out on either side like those of a fruit tree. But even then, though he had him helpless, Jeremy could not search him, for he had not a hand to spare for the operation.

Moreover Raoul was still struggling hard to the best of his very limited ability. Oh, keep still, you wildcat, said Jeremy, and gave him a hack on the shins with a solid foot gear. You'll have to help me, sir, he called over his shoulder. He'd like an eel.

Oh, do, Captain Barrington, laugh to Raoul wildly, don't let your servant do all the kicking, and take your beard out of my face, damn you! And Hervey had to come and help, after all, and what he suddenly felt was a sorry affair. The Frenchman might have the spirit of a wildcat, as Jeremy had called him, but he had little physical strength left to back it up.

Indeed, after Hervey had torn the packet of notes out of one breech's pocket and a few papers and a map out of the other, the captive said in a changed voice to Jeremy, who still held him pinned against the wall. If you will let me go now, I will not do anything, I, I, he frowned and shut his eyes. Hervey looked up from the notes he was examining by the centre table.

Let him go, Jeremy, he said abruptly. It would be a nuisance if he were to faint. Jeremy dubiously relaxed his grip. Raoul opened his eyes, clenched his hands, and guiding himself by the wall, reached the window where the cool air was still coming in gratefully.

He sank down on its very wide low sill and put his head against the side. Everything was finished, and he too. Is this money your own? came Hervey Barrington's voice after a moment. Why talk about it any more?

But Raoul roused himself. How it has not been stolen until this last five minutes, he replied without moving. His captor had in his hands too Juliana's letter to him at Norman Cross, which he had treasured as a sort of talisman, and some of her brief later ones also. Hervey finished his examination and looked across at the motionless figure on the window

seat. Now what was he going to do with him for the remainder of the night? The safest plan would undoubtedly be to tie him up. Oh, but that would mean manhandling him again, and he had had enough of that, for he found, to his surprise, that the prospect of mastering him once more rather sickened him.

The first heat of his fury, indeed, was gone now. He pondered with a frown the feasibility of leaving him loose. Escape by the window was impossible, and he could run that very heavy chest of drawers against the cupboard door from the other side. Raoul suddenly turned his head.

May I have my pocket handkerchief? he inquired in a lifeless voice. His pockets had been rifled of that too, and it lay on the table. It was obvious why he needed it. Yes, if you will come and fetch it, replied Hervey, who wanted to get him into the light

again for survey. With a stifled sigh the young man rose and came, noiseless in his stockinged feet, the blood coursing anew down his chin from his lip. Hervey's eyes were drawn by one or two trickles on his chest, a good deal exposed by the now even more torn shirt.

Leanness of that degree was almost emaciation. No, shame forbade any more rough handling. He would have to take just one precaution, however, in case that window proved too tempting, despite the chevaux de frise below. Come here, Jeremy.

He led the sailor aside and whispered to him, while Raoul, with his head bent, dabbed slowly at his lip with his recovered handkerchief. For the moment his brain felt empty of thought or plan. Besides, what use planning without a penny or even a coat to cover him? His body ached all over.

He only wanted to sleep. So soon he would be able to. Unless Captain Barrington meant to have him removed and locked up this night. It was too late, surely. He went back to his place in the dark corner by the window and sat down again patiently.

Oh, Juliana, he has taken your money away. Your money, curse him. Oh, I can do nothing now. I want you to come away from that window, please, said Captain Barrington's icy voice once more. And there's something to be done in that corner.

You can start there, Jeremy. Shut the window first. And once more Raoul obediently got up and came away. Oh, sit there where I can see you. It mattered little where he was now, so Raoul sat at the table in the middle of the room,

an elbow on it, and his handkerchief still pressed to his mouth. And suddenly he caught the eyes of his enemy looking at him, hard and cold, yet with something in them he could not read. He straightened himself and defiance began to tingle once more along his veins. Well, I hope you're satisfied with your revenge, he said.

By the way, it is not usually considered chivalrous to strike a woman. Hervey did not condescend to answer and removed his gaze to the window where Jeremy, mounted rather precariously upon a chair, was beginning to take down a curtain. And how much went on Raoul jeeringly. How much were they worth, you protestations and your mythical duena of a sister, whom

the first thing you did was to force a midnight entrance by a secret door into the bedroom of the girl who had thrown herself upon your chivalry. This imputation, at least, was more than Hervey Barrington could endure in silence. How it was my sister herself who discovered you and informed me, he said curtly, and half turned his back.

Raoul shrugged his shoulders. As I was asleep, I naturally cannot tell whether that is a foraygo of lies or not. However, I'm glad to think, he went on, leaning back in his chair, that I did not kiss your hand. But you!

He did not need to finish, for he saw the angry red mount into Captain Barrington's cheek, and he broke off into a laugh himself. Which did you really prefer, the Signora or my sister? I have a sister, you know. Take down both curtains, idiot, said Hervey to the window.

Raoul turned and for the first time beheld what was happening there. His eyes lit up. I'm not worthy of curtains in my prison, he inquired. Or is it a regular diminishment? But you must allow me to assist.

Your hired bully does not seem skillful. I'll sit down, thundered Hervey. And as if this had been a command to him, the unlucky Jeremy, stepping off the chair, became entangled at that moment in the released curtain, and he too sat down, very heavily, upon the floor.

Raoul gave one wild little yell of laughter, and bending forward, buried his face in his hands and shook for a second or two. Then he raised his head expectantly, in time to see the coxswain get up ruefully, rubbing himself, and went off into another fit. It was genuine laughter, if a thought hysterical.

Now the other window, said Hervey crossly. Oh, you will not allow me, asked Raoul, looking up. I am not so heavy, the floor would suffer less. Hervey disregarded this, but it became too much for him when Jeremy proceeding under his direction to dismantle the bed.

Raoul deliberately moved his chair so that he could have a good view of the operation, which he punctuated by a running commentary of remarks, ostensibly to himself. It really is a déménagement, but what an hour for it. I've always been told that the English are mad. The sheets, the blankets, the mattress too.

For this also was being rolled up by the perspiring Jeremy. I suppose that is to be burnt, because I have lain upon it. But I'm not verminous now. No, not in the least. Oh, how clever.

He will tie it up with a bell-pull. But how will the good man get all that through the door? Oh, tiens, he's leaving the napkin. How will you be quiet? Broke in Hervey savagely, at last, for his henchman was getting so flustered under this

fire of ridicule that the mattress burst from his grasp and he had to assist him to re-roll it. Oh, you young fool, can't you see that I'm putting myself to all this trouble merely to spare you? How do you think I'm going to leave you loose in a room with the means of letting yourself

down from that window to your hand? And with a convenient mattress to throw on the spikes, if you were so crazy as to risk death or mutilation out there? If I left these things I should have to tie you up hand and foot, and I make a sailor's, not a landsman's, knots.

Put those things through into Miss Barrington's room, Jeremy, she will not be sleeping there tonight, and I will come and secure the cupboard door. Now, and do you understand, Mount DeBake? Yes, said Cole. He stood up.

You are indeed kind to spare me a night and bonds, and to take away from the bad child the means of doing itself a mischief. I suppose I must set it against your having also taken away my liberty, and refused to take my life. Never mind, kept in Barrington, I dare say I can find a means of getting rid of that,

if the worst comes to the worst. And although you do not believe in heroics, I wish you good repose. Jeremy gave him a long, stern look, and without a word turned on his heel, and went towards the cupboard. Oh, your walk, observed Cole softly after him, reminds me strongly of that of my dear

and faithless Tomás. The door of the cupboard slammed. A moment later came sounds of a heavy object being put against its farther door. Cole stood motionless, listening. Even all sounds, even in the passage outside, had ceased.

His figure relaxed, and he turned and sat down somewhat subtly, and stared at the floor, his head between his fists. He remained in that attitude for a considerable time. And then, after a glance at what had once been a comfortable bed, he curled himself up like a boy in a large chair, his head on the arm, and lay there perfectly still.

He was tired to the point of exhaustion, and more than tired. Now and again a long sigh shook him, but there was no other sound, and when, about an hour later, the moon was able to look in at the uncurtained windows, he had straightened himself out a little, and she could see his upturned sleeping face. And she tried, first, to smooth out the contractions in it with the same silver touch which had

revealed them. And then, pitying this Haggard and Dimeon who was dreaming, not of Diane's kiss, but of the realms of the dead, she withdrew her light behind a bank of cloud, and the room sank again into darkness.