Chapter 42
A sensation of dread did now attack Frank, as he thought of the descent of a heavy man by the frail rope. If it had been he who was to go down, it would have been different, and he would have felt no hesitation.
Catching at his father's arm, he whispered:
"Are you sure that it will bear you?"
"Certain."
"But the chimney stack?" whispered Frank, as he could dimly make out that his father was uncoiling the rope, and he could see no place that would be suitable.
"Hist! This is better."
Sir Robert was now kneeling down, and after being puzzled for a few moments, Frank then made out that his father was pa.s.sing one end of the rope through an opening at the corner of the parapet where the rain-water ran through a leaded shoot into the upright leaden stack-pipe which ran down the house and carried it into the drain.
Frank dimly made out that he knotted the rope carefully, and tried it by pulling hard twice over, before throwing a few yards over the parapet and letting the rest run through his hands till it was all down.
His next movement puzzled the boy, but he grasped the meaning directly after.
They were at an angle now, and Sir Robert was carefully testing the stone coping, to see if it were tight in its place and the pieces held together by the iron clamps kept in their places by the running in of molten lead.
Apparently satisfied, he turned quickly to where Frank stood, now trembling, grasped his hand, and whispered:
"Have you a knife?"
"Yes, father."
"Cut the rope, and get back as soon as you can. Don't wait to listen whether I elude the men."
"No, father."
Sir Robert stood holding his son's hand for a few moments, and listening to the murmur of voices at the back of his house, where the soldiers were talking rather excitedly.
"For liberty and life, Frank!" whispered Sir Robert then; and with the perspiration standing in great drops on the boy's face, he saw his father grasp the rope knotted so tightly from the hole by the lead on which he stood over the stone coping, throw back his cloak, and then lay himself flat on the parapet, and carefully lower his feet as he held on by the stone. From that he lowered himself, and, partly supported by the top of the leaden stack-pipe, he slowly changed his right hand to the loop of the rope; then softly gliding by the wide-open head of the pipe, he began to descend with the rope well twined round his right leg, and held to the calf of his heavy boot by the edge of his left boot sole.
"If the rope should break or come undone!" thought the boy, as he turned cold and dropped upon his knees to reach over and grip the knot with both hands, while his lips moved as he muttered a prayer, feeling the thin cord quiver and jerk as if it were a strange nerve which connected him with his father, who was below there somewhere in the darkness--jar, thrill, and make a humming noise like the string of some huge ba.s.s instrument, but so faint that it would have been inaudible at any other time. But he could hear plainly enough, without any exaltation of his senses, that the soldiers were talking earnestly not a hundred yards away, their voices rising clearly to where the boy knelt.
How long was it that he could feel that vibration of the cord which thrilled through him right to his toes, and made his hair feel as if it were being lifted from his scalp? Ten minutes--five minutes--a quarter of an hour? Not many seconds, and then it stopped; and the horror of feeling it suddenly slacken and hearing a heavy cras.h.i.+ng fall did not a.s.sail the anxious boy, though he
He would have liked to lean over, listening and straining his sight to follow the further movements of his father; but Sir Robert had, unconsciously to both, gradually disciplined his son into a prompt, soldierly way of instantly obeying orders, and directly that wave had pa.s.sed up to him, Frank's knife was out, and the rope, after a good deal of sawing, was cut through, the knife replaced, and the cord was rapidly drawn up, and laid down on the leads in a loose coil.
He bent over then for a moment or two and listened, but all was still just below. There was no alarm such as he had dreaded, no shouting and firing of shots; and gathering up the rope, he hurried back along the narrow leads, using the same precaution of leaning inward, pa.s.sed from house to house quickly, and kept on asking himself what he should do to hide the rope.
No idea came, and he had nearly reached home before it flashed across his brain, and he drew a breath of relief.
There was a hiding-place just before him, at the top of the low ridge of the house two doors away from his own. A low chimney was smoking steadily, and without pausing to think whether it was wise or no he crept up the slates, reached the ridge, grasped the side of the chimney stack, and stood upright, finding that he could just reach the top of the smoking pot.
That was enough. The next minute he had the end of the rope pa.s.sed in; and resting his wrists on the top of the pot, he drew and drew, rather slowly at first, but more and more rapidly as the descending end gained weight, and at last sufficed to run it down, and then it was gone.
He slid down the slates, and, feeling relieved of an incubus, he reached their own house, glided in at the dormer, shut and bolted the door, descended through the trap, drawing it over him, went down the steps, laid them in their place, and, lastly, wondering whether he had soiled his hands with the black on the top of the house, he ran rapidly downstairs.
As he ran he could hear the heavy tramp of the soldiers in the street at the front, and when he reached the lower flights dimly made out the figure of his mother standing at the bottom step, and stretched out his hand and caught her arm.
Lady Gowan uttered a cry of horror, and sprang forward into the hall, facing round to meet her invisible enemy; but she uttered a faint sigh of relief as her arm was caught again, and she heard the familiar voice whisper:
"Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ mother."
"Ah!" she whispered back. "Your father?"
Frank's answer was drowned by a thunderous blow delivered with a sledge-hammer upon the door close to the lock, and this was followed by another and another, which raised echoes up the staircase, and brought a series of hysterical shrieks from the housekeeper's room.
But Lady Gowan paid no heed to either. She caught her son by the arms, and drew him farther from the door, placed her lips to his ear, and whispered in an agonised tone:
"Your father?--speak!"
"Got down safe, and gone," whispered back Frank; and as his mother clung to him a strange thrill of elation ran through his nerves, making him feel that he was engaged in an adventure full of delirious joy. He felt that he must shout and cheer to get rid of the intense excitement which made his blood bubble in his veins, and he was ready for any mad display in what was like playing some wonderful game, in which, after a desperate struggle, his side was winning.
"Let them hammer and bang down the door, mother. The idiots! they are giving him time to get safe away. Oh the fools, the fools! Shall I go and speak to them?"
"No, no," whispered Lady Gowan, speaking with her lips once more to her boy's ear, for the noise made was deafening. "Let them take time to break in, and then we must parley with them, and let them suspect us and make a regular search. They will waste nearly an hour, Frank."
"Of course they will," cried the boy joyously; "but, I say, mother, we're not going to put up with this, you know; I'm not going to have you insulted by these people breaking into the house. I shall show fight."
"No, no, don't do anything imprudent, Frank. We must a.s.sume that we took them for a ruffianly mob who tried to break in."
"But they said, 'in the King's name,' mother," said the boy dubiously.
"And we would not believe them, my boy. Frank, Frank, it is horrible to incite you to prevaricate and dally with the truth, but it is to save your father's life. Be silent. On my head be the sin, and I will speak and bear it."
The cras.h.i.+ng of the woodwork went on beneath the blows, and the murmur that rose like a low, deep accompaniment outside told that a crowd had collected, and were being kept back by the soldiery.
"This way, Frank," cried Lady Gowan; and she drew her son after her to the head of the bas.e.m.e.nt steps, where she called aloud to the housekeeper, who came hurrying up, candle in hand, to where mother and son stood.
The old woman looked ghastly, and Frank could hear a strange sobbing from below, in spite of the noise at the front, which was partly deadened from where they stood.
"Master, my lady?" cried the woman wildly.
"Safe--escaped, Berry," said Lady Gowan, in a voice full of exultation.
"Safe--escaped, my lady!" cried the woman, with the light of exultation rising now in her countenance. "Then let them batter the house down, the wretches. I don't care now."
"But, Berry, listen. Sir Robert is out of their reach by now; but they must not know that he has been here."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the woman wildly; "they won't get anything out of me. What! me tell 'em that my dear young master, whom I nursed when he wasn't half the size of Master Frank--tell 'em he has been here! I'd sooner have my tongue cut out."
"But the girl--the girl?"
"What her, my lady?" said the housekeeper contemptuously. "Oh, they'll get nothing out of her to-night but shrieks, and nothing now, for she's shruck herself hoa.r.s.e and speechless."
"Ah!" sighed Lady Gowan, "then now I can feel at rest. Come up, Frank."