The Complete Works of Stephen Crane (78 page)

“Sir, you have no right in my father’s house; and, to tell you the truth, I did not expect such outlawry from a man who had shown himself to be a gentleman.”

“Thank you for that, Lord Strepp; but, nevertheless, tell your father to try to cultivate a conciliatory frame of mind, and let us talk the matter over as sensible men should.”

“We cannot compromise with you, O’Ruddy,” said Lord Strepp in a very determined tone, which for the first time made me doubt the wisdom of my proceedings; for of course it was a compromise I had in mind all the time, for I knew as well as Father Donovan that if he refused to settle with me my position was entirely untenable.

“We cannot compromise with you,” went on the young man. “You have no right, legal or moral, to this place, and you know it. I have advised my father to make no terms with you. Good day to you, sir.”

And with that he galloped off, while I drew a very long face as I turned away.

“Father Donovan,” I said, when I had closed the window, “I am not sure but your advice to me on the way here was nearer right than I thought at the time.”

“Oh, not a bit of it,” cried Father Donovan cheerfully. “You heard what the young man said, that he had advised his father not to make any terms with you. Very well, that means terms have been proposed already; and this youth rejects the wisdom of age, which I have known to be done before.”

“You think, then, they will accept a conference?”

“I am sure of it. These men will not stand fire, and small blame to them. What chance have they? As your captain says, he could annihilate the lot of them before they crushed in the front door. The men who ran away have far more sense than that brainless spalpeen who led them on, although I can see he is brave enough. One or two more useless attacks will lead him to a more conciliatory frame of mind, unless he appeals to the law, which is what I thought he would do; for I felt sure a sheriff would be in the van of attack. Just now you are opposed only to the Earl of Westport; but, when the sheriff comes on, you’re fornenst the might of England.”

This cheered me greatly, and after a while we had our dinner in peace. The long afternoon passed slowly away, and there was no rally in the village, and no sign of a further advance; so night came on and nothing had been done. After supper I said good-night to Father Donovan, threw myself, dressed as I was, on the bed, and fell into a doze. It was toward midnight when Tom Peel woke me up; that man seemed to sleep neither night nor day; and there he stood by my bed, looking like a giant in the flicker of the candle-light.

“Your honour,” he said, “I think there’s something going on at the mouth of the tunnel. Twice I’ve caught the glimpse of a light there, although they’re evidently trying to conceal it.”

I sat up in bed and said:

“What do you propose to do?”

“Well, there’s a man inside here that knows the tunnel just as well as I do, — every inch of it, — and he’s up near the other end now. If a company begins coming in, my man will run back without being seen and let us know. Now, sir, shall I timber this end, or shall we deal with them at the top of the stair one by one as they come up. One good swordsman at the top of the stair will prevent a thousand getting into the house.”

“Peel,” said I, “are there any stones outside, at the other end of the tunnel?”

“Plenty. There’s a dyke of loose stones fronting it.”

“Very well; if your man reports that any have entered the tunnel, they’ll have left one or two at the other end on guard; take you five of your most trusted men, and go you cautiously a roundabout way until you are within striking distance of the men on guard. Watch the front upper windows of this house; and if you see two lights displayed, you will know they are in the tunnel. If you waited here till your man comes back, you would be too late; so go now, and, if you see the two lights, overpower the men at the mouth of the tunnel unless they are too many for you. If they are, then there’s nothing to do but retreat. When you have captured the guard, make them go down into the tunnel; then you and your men tear down the dyke and fill the hole full of stones; I will guard this end of the passage.”

Tom Peel pulled his forelock and was gone at once, delighted with his task. I knew that if I got them once in the tunnel there would no longer be any question of a compromise, even if Lord Strepp himself was leading them. I took two lighted candles with me and sat patiently at the head of the stone stairway that led, in circular fashion, down into the depths. Half an hour passed, but nothing happened, and I began to wonder whether or not they had captured our man, when suddenly his face appeared.

“They are coming, sir,” he cried, “by the dozen. Lord Strepp is leading them.”

“Will they be here soon, do you think?”

“I cannot tell. First I saw torches appear, then Lord Strepp came down and began giving instructions, and, after counting nearly a score of his followers, I came back as quick as I could.”

“You’ve done nobly,” said I. “Now stand here with this sword and prevent any man from coming up.”

I took one of the candles, leaving him another, and lighted a third. I went up the stair and set them in the front window; then I opened another window and listened. The night was exceedingly still, — not even the sound of a cricket to be heard. After a few minutes, however, there came a cry, instantly smothered, from the other side of the valley; another moment and I heard the stones a rolling, as if the side of a wall had tumbled over, which indeed was the case; then two lights were shown on the hill and were waved up and down; and although Peel and I had arranged no signal, yet this being the counterpart of my own, I took to signify that they had been successful, so, leaving the candles burning there, in case there might have been some mistake, I started down the stair to the man who was guarding the secret passage.

“Has anything happened?”

“Nothing, sir.”

I think the best part of an hour must have passed before there was sign or sound. Of course I knew if the guards were flung down the hole, they would at once run after their comrades and warn them that both ends of the tunnel were in our possession. I was well aware that the imprisoned men might drag away the stones and ultimately win a passage out for themselves; but I trusted that they would be panic-stricken when they found themselves caught like rats in a trap. In any case it would be very difficult to remove stones from below in the tunnel, because the space was narrow and few could labour at a time; then there was every chance that the stones might jam, when nothing could be done. However, I told the man beside me to go across the valley and ask Peel and his men to pile on rocks till he had a great heap above the entrance, and, if not disturbed, to work till nearly daylight, so I sat on the top of the circular stair step with my rapier across my knees, waiting so long that I began to fear they all might be smothered, for I didn’t know whether the stopping of air at one end would prevent it coming in at the other, for I never heard my father say what took place in a case like that. Father Donovan was in bed and asleep, and I was afraid to leave the guarding of the stair to any one else. It seemed that hours and hours passed, and I began to wonder was daylight never going to come, when the most welcome sound I ever heard was the well-known tones of a voice which came up from the bottom of the well.

“Are you there, Mr. O’Ruddy?”

There was a subdued and chastened cadence in the inquiry that pleased me.

“I am, and waiting for you.”

“May I come up?”

“Yes, and very welcome; but you’ll remember, Lord Strepp, that you come up as a prisoner.”

“I quite understand that, Mr. O’Ruddy.”

So, as I held the candle, I saw the top of his head coming round and round and round, and finally he stood before me stretching out his sword, hilt forward.

“Stick it in its scabbard,” said I, “and I’ll do the same with mine.” Then I put out my hand, “Good morning to your lordship,” I said. “It seems to me I’ve been waiting here forty days and forty nights. Will you have a sup of wine?”

“I would be very much obliged to you for it, Mr. O’Ruddy.”

With that I called the nearest guard and bade him let nobody up the stair without my knowing it.

“I suppose, my lord, you are better acquainted with this house than I am; but I know a spot where there’s a drop of good drink.”

“You have discovered the old gentleman’s cellar, then?”

“Indeed, Lord Strepp, I have not. I possess a cellar of my own. It’s you that’s my guest, and not me that’s yours on this occasion.”

I poured him out a flagon, and then one for myself, and as we stood by the table I lifted it high and said:

“Here’s to our better acquaintance.”

His lordship drank, and said with a wry face, as he put down the mug:

“Our acquaintance seems to be a somewhat tempestuous one; but I confess, Mr. O’Ruddy, that I have as great a respect for your generalship as I have for your swordsmanship. The wine is good and revivifying. I’ve been in that accursed pit all night, and I came to this end of it with greater reluctance than I expected to when I entered the other. We tried to clear away the stones; but they must have piled all the rocks in Sussex on top of us. Are your men toiling there yet?”

“Yes, they’re there, and I gave them instructions to work till daylight.”

“Well, Mr. O’Ruddy, my poor fellows are all half dead with fright, and they fancy themselves choking; but although the place was foul enough when we entered it, I didn’t see much difference at the end. However, I did see one thing, and that was that I had to come and make terms. I want you to let the poor devils go, Mr. O’Ruddy, and I’ll be parole that they won’t attack you again.”

“And who will give his parole that Lord Strepp will not attack me again?”

“Well, O’Ruddy,” — I took great comfort from the fact that he dropped the Mr.,—”Well, O’Ruddy, you see we cannot possibly give up this estate. You are not legally entitled to it. It is ours and always has been.”

“I’m not fighting for any estate, Lord Strepp.”

“Then, in Heaven’s name, what are you fighting for?”

“For the consent of the Earl and Countess of Westport to my marriage with Lady Mary, your sister.”

Lord Strepp gave a long whistle; then he laughed and sat down in the nearest chair.

“But what does Mary say about it?” he asked at last.

“The conceit of an Irishman, my lord, leads me to suspect that I can ultimately overcome any objections she may put forward.”

“Oho! that is how the land lies, is it? I’m a thick-headed clod, or I would have suspected something of that sort when Mary pulled me down so sharply as I was cursing you at the front door.” Then, with a slight touch of patronage in his tone, he said:

“There is some difference in the relative positions of our families, Mr. O’Ruddy.”