Washed Ashore Part 6

"What is it that you have heard that makes you think so?" asked Stephen.

"That you were going to persuade your father to let you go to the South Seas, that you might try and find out what has become of Jack Askew."

"Yes, I know that is what I thought of doing," answered Stephen; "that is to say, Margery wished me to go; but, in the first place, I know that my father wouldn't let me go; and in the second, I don't think that I should like the sea, and my health wouldn't stand it, and altogether I have made up my mind not to go."

"Have you told Margery this?" asked Charley; "at present she fully believes that you are going and that you are certain to find her brother alive in some desert island, like that Robinson Crusoe lived in; as you knew him so well, she thinks that you are more likely than any one else to find him out."

"Oh! that is a mere fancy of Margery's," answered Stephen, in a tone which showed great indifference to the subject. "It is a hundred to one that Jack is alive, in the first place, and equally unlikely that I should stumble on him, even if he is. The captain does not think so, or he would go out himself, or send out, I should think."

"As to that I do not know, but I do know that you ought to tell Margery; at least, I know that I would, if I had made up my mind as you seem to have done."

"You had better go, then, instead of me, if you think so favourably of the little girl's wild scheme," said Stephen, in a sneering tone, which somewhat tried Charley's temper.

"She has not asked me," he answered; "it would make them all very happy if Jack was to be found, and I should think no trouble too great if I could bring him back, that is all I say."

"Oh! you are very generous," sneered Stephen who would have been very glad to please Margery if he could have done so without any risk or trouble to himself.

There are a good many people in the world of similar character: the test of love or friends.h.i.+p is the amount of self-sacrifice which a person is ready to make for the object of his regard. Stephen had at length, at Charley's instigation, to confess to Margery that he had no intention of becoming a sailor for the sake of trying to find Jack. Her countenance expressed as much scorn as its sweetness would allow, as she answered, "Oh! I feared that you did not care for him, and am certain that you do not care for me. Here is the book you were polite enough to lend me, and I suppose that you will not very often come over to the Tower, as we shall have no longer that subject to talk about."

Stephen could say nothing, but looked very sheepish, and soon afterwards ordered his horse and rode homewards.

The next morning the family a.s.sembled in the breakfast-room for prayers; but Margery, usually the first on foot, had not made her appearance.

She slept in a little room on the first floor, with a window looking out over the sea; it was prettily papered, and had white dimity curtains, and everything in it looked fresh and nice, like herself. Charley ran up and knocked at the door, but got no answer; then Becky went to the room, the door was not locked and her heart sank with an undefined alarm when she found the room empty. She scarcely dared to return to the breakfast-room to tell Captain and Mrs Askew, fearful of the effect the announcement might have on her mistress. She hunted about the room.

The little girl had slept in the bed, but neither her night things nor her day clothing were there. Several other articles appeared to have been removed from the room. Becky had an observant eye, and quickly discovered this; otherwise she might have supposed that she had merely gone out un.o.bserved to take a morning walk. As to her having gone away of her own accord, without saying anything to her father and mother, or allowing even a suspicion that any plan was running in her head, that was so unlike dear little, loving, tender-hearted Miss Margery that Becky dismissed the notion as altogether improbable; but then again, how could anybody have got into the house to carry her off? Poor Becky, with grief and perplexity, would have sat down on the bed and cried her eyes out, but she felt conscious that the so doing would not a.s.sist in discovering what had become of Margery; so at length, mustering courage for announcing what she would, she told Tom, rather have cut out her tongue than have had to do, she slowly returned to the breakfast-room.

Her prolonged absence had produced some anxiety, and she met Mrs Askew coming to see what was the matter. Becky's face alarmed her.

"Is my child ill? is she dead? oh! speak--speak--tell me the worst!" she exclaimed.

"Oh! don't take on so, marm, Miss Margery isn't ill, and she isn't dead, that I know on; but, oh dear! marm, she isn't there," she answered, bursting into tears. It is needless further to describe the sorrow and consternation which everybody in the house felt when this fact became known, and very soon it was ascertained to be a fact, for, hunting high and hunting low, not a trace of dear little Margery could be discovered.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE SEARCH FOR MARGERY--THE SLIPPER--THE VAULT--TOM AND CHARLEY DISAPPEAR.

Captain Askew was a man of action, and, while the search for Margery was being carried on in the Tower, he hurried down to the hamlet, to ascertain if she had been seen by any one there, or if any one could give him any clue by which to trace her. He went, in the first place, to d.i.c.k Herring's cottage, for though of late d.i.c.k had always met him with a sulky, surly expression on his countenance, they were once good friends, and he thought that under the present circ.u.mstances the heart of even the rough smuggler would be softened; but d.i.c.k was away, and Susan, his wife, said that she did not know when he would return--she never did know. Their daughter Polly, whom he met bringing in a bucket of fresh water from the neighbouring spring, also said that she had not seen Miss Margery, though the captain fancied that there was an odd expression on her countenance when she spoke. He therefore cross-questioned her, but not a word to show that she could even guess what had become of Margery could he elicit. He next went to Molly Scuttle's cottage, but the old woman could give him no information; she could only suggest that the ghosts must to a certainty have had something to do with it. When he replied that he did not believe in such things, she answered that they had evidently carried off his daughter to punish him for his incredulity, and to prove their existence to him. He hurried round from cottage to cottage, but the people only opened their eyes and mouths wide with astonishment, and gave him no information likely to be of the slightest use. Disappointed, he returned to the Tower. There the search had continued with unabated diligence; Tom had made a discovery, but it seemed doubtful to what it would lead. He had found one of the little girl's slippers in the dark pa.s.sage on the ground-floor, near the spot where he had fancied that he had seen the light and heard the groan on the memorable night when the pretended ghosts had appeared. How it had come there, however, was the question. He carried it to Becky to consult with her on the subject.

It was not likely to have been dropped by Margery, because had she been walking she would naturally have stopped to put it on again. Indeed it was absurd to suppose that she had run away of her own free will; it therefore seemed most probable that she had been carried along by some one, and that her slipper had fallen off un.o.bserved. Still the questions, how those who had committed the outrage had got into the house, and how they had got out again, remained unanswered. Becky could solve neither. She was of opinion, "though she would not like to tell the captain or the missus, that the ghosteses had done it, and that they hadn't got in by either of the doors or windows, but somehow or other out of the ground, for that's where them things, I have heard say, always comes from; but it's dreadful to think that poor, dear, sweet Miss Margery should have been carried off into such a place as they lives in," she observed to Tom in a low voice.

"That's all nonsense, Becky," responded Tom. "The captain says as how there's no such things as ghosteses, and therefore it's my belief that there isn't; besides, don't you know that this here old Tower stands on the solid rock? Why there isn't an inch of ground all round it, into which I could run a spade if I tried ever so much, and I should like to see the ghost who could work his way through that: it's all very well for them as is put under the soft black mould of a churchyard, of course, if they has a mind to take a turn or two about the world at midnight, there'd be nothing to prevent them that I sees, except that the captain says it's impossible."

"Oh, dear! Tom, don't go on to talk in that way; it makes me all over in a cold s.h.i.+ver to think what has become of poor dear Miss Margery."

Neither Tom nor Becky were possessed of any education of the most ordinary sort, so they may be excused talking the nonsense to which it must be confessed they gave utterance on the subject. Poor Mrs Askew was bewildered with grief and dismay and anxiety as to what had become of her beloved child. Charley could not believe that Margery would be guilty of any foolish act, yet when he remembered her conversation in the morning with Stephen about going to look for her brother in the South Seas, and her indignation on finding that he would not go, he thought it just possible that she might have set off by herself with some wild scheme of the sort in her head; and yet such a proceeding was so unlike herself that he dismissed the idea as soon as he had conceived it, and did not even mention it to Captain Askew. If she had gone, it was not likely that she would get far without being discovered, and they would soon hear of her. Although Captain Askew was himself a magistrate, it was necessary to give information of the strange event to Mr Ludlow, that he might a.s.sist in discovering the perpetrators of the outrage, and Charley Blount volunteered to go over to the Hall for that object. Some time had already been spent in fruitless search, so Charley, after he had s.n.a.t.c.hed a hurried breakfast, set off as fast as his legs could carry him. He was a good runner at all times, but on the present occasion, believing that the faster he went the sooner dear little Margery might be recovered, he ran as he had never before run in his life. Had he been dilatory he might never have reached the Hall at all, for those who were on the watch for any one leaving the Tower, believing that he would have gone at an ordinary speed, happily missed him.

Mr Ludlow was highly indignant at what he heard, and sorry too, for even he admired little Margery, and he at once proposed sending to London for a detective officer. "One of those sharp-witted gentlemen is far more likely than are we thick-headed country-folks to discover how she little girl has been spirited away," he observed. "Of one thing I am certain, that the smugglers are at the bottom of it, and of another, that if they have not a confederate in the house--and old Tom and Becky look honest enough--they have the means of getting in unknown to us. I will write for the officer, and then you and Stephen shall ride over with me and we will look into the matter."

Captain Askew was very grateful to Mr Ludlow for coming over so speedily, but though they again made a thorough examination, as they supposed, of the whole tower, they could not throw any fresh light on the mysterious subject.

"The detective officer, when he arrives, will soon ferret out the truth, however, depend on that," observed Mr Ludlow, as he and Stephen mounted their horses to ride back. But neither the captain nor Charley were inclined to wait till the said detective should arrive to win back what they valued so much. Charley thought again and again over the subject, and talked to Tom about the light, and the groan, and the dear little slipper, and suddenly Tom slapped his leg and said that he remembered when the Tower was being put in order that one of the workmen had told him that there was a vault or cellar under a part of it, from which a pa.s.sage was said to lead down to the seash.o.r.e. He was not certain whether the captain had heard the account, at all events he did not appear to have believed it, and of course had forgotten it altogether.

Tom confessed that he was very stupid not to have thought of it before, though he was not even then much inclined to believe in the truth of the story.

Charley thought differently, and resolved at once to search for the opening--if such existed--to the vault. He charged Tom not to tell the captain, as it would be a disappointment to him should they fail to make the discovery they hoped for. At that very juncture blind Peter, having heard a rumour of the supposed abduction of Miss Margery, came to the Tower to learn whether or not the story was true.

Charley immediately took him into his counsels. Peter thought over the subject. Yes, he had heard the account of the vault under the Tower, and what was more, he knew an old mason residing about two miles off who had worked there, and who was, he rather thought, the very man who had told him of it. He would go off at once and fetch John Trowel and his tools, and they would very soon burrow into the molehill if one existed.

Charley and Tom occupied the time of Peter's absence in preparing with a rope and a lantern to explore the cavern they hoped to find. They forgot at first that they might possibly encounter opposition, as it was certain that if the cavern did exist it had had occupants, and probably had still, who would not welcome any intrusion on their privacy.

Charley, however, at length thought of this. It did not for a moment make him hesitate about carrying out his plans, but he thought that it would be wise to provide himself and Tom with arms. The captain had a brace of pistols and a fowling-piece, and Tom had an old French cutla.s.s which he had taken from the enemy, and treasured as a trophy of his fighting days. Charley at once went up to the captain, who was writing to the officers of the coastguard, and to others who might possibly hear something of his little girl. "Any news? any news?" he asked, as Charley entered.

"No, sir, but if we could find our way into some of the smugglers'

hiding-places, we might learn more than we do now, and as I would rather have a weapon in my hand than trust to my fists with such gentry, I beg that you will lend me your firearms."

The captain made no answer, but pointed to them over the fireplace, where they hung, with a flask of powder and a bag of bullets.

Charley hurried off to avoid having any questions asked him. Tom was delighted to get the weapons, and declared that, although he had but one arm, he could use his cutla.s.s as well as any man. He then put on a belt that he might stick a pistol in it, and advised Charley to do the same, that he might hold the gun ready for use. At last old John Trowel arrived with Peter. He remembered perfectly all about the vault, had once been down it, and thought that he could find the entrance without difficulty, though it had been been blocked up; but as to a pa.s.sage leading down to the beach--of that he could not speak with any certainty.

"No time is to be lost, though!" exclaimed Tom, when he heard this.

"Come along, and mind you make as little noise as possible."

The old mason went at once up to the very spot where Tom had seen the light, and he began immediately to work there, sc.r.a.ping away the mortar from between the stones, Charley and Tom helping him, while blind Peter held the lantern. They worked on patiently, knowing that by such means people have frequently let themselves out through the thick walls of a prison. More than half-an-hour had been thus employed when Charley felt the stone on which he stood move; jumping off it, with but little difficulty he lifted it up, when a regular wooden trap-door appeared below. This it was soon found was made to open downwards and how to force it open without making a noise was the question.

Again Charley had to hurry off to the captain's room to borrow a centrepiece, a small saw and a file, and by labouring with these steadily the bolt which held up the trap was cut round, and Tom then having securely fastened a rope to it, the trap was noiselessly lowered and a dark vault appeared below. There could now be little doubt by which way the pretended ghosts had found their way into the Tower. On a lantern being lowered a ladder was seen, on to which Charley immediately jumped, and fearlessly descended into the vault. As a sailor, he knew the importance of securing a fresh hold before letting go of the first, so he held on to the beam above till he had found a firm rest for his feet. He thus descended for a considerable depth, while Tom let down the lantern by a rope that he might see the nature of the place into which he had got. He at length reached the bottom, and taking the lantern from the end of the rope, commenced an examination of the place in which he found himself. It was a large roughly-hewn vault, which looked as if it had been the quarry from whence the stone with which the fortress was built had been taken. Around it were cells, where some rusty iron bars and ring bolts let into the rock showed that it had been the prison of the castle, and Charley shuddered as he thought of the unhappy people who had once been confined there, where not a gleam of light nor the slightest sound could pierce through the solid rock. As soon as Tom found that Charley had reached the bottom, he also descended--holding his cutla.s.s in his teeth--as actively as most men could have done with two hands. Peter and old John Trowel were directed to wait above. Peter said that from his acuteness of hearing he should be able to judge what progress they were making, and to let Captain Askew know where they were gone.

Blind Peter and old John waited on the top of the ladder leading down into the vault, expecting the return of Tom or Charley, or else to receive some signal from them announcing the progress they had made.

Peter listened attentively--"I hear them going round and round the vault to look for the pa.s.sage," he observed to old John. "It must be a large place, larger than I thought for, and they don't seem to be able to find the pa.s.sage."

"Maybe there's no pa.s.sage to find," said John sagaciously.

Still they did not come back, and Peter declared that he could no longer hear their footsteps. They waited and waited, but the explorers did not appear. Old John suggested that there might be some pit or hole into which they had tumbled, and perhaps nothing would ever again be heard of them; but the idea was too terrible to entertain, for Peter had a sincere regard for Tom, and Charley's blithe voice and kind manners had won his heart. They ought at once to have gone to Captain Askew, and procured proper a.s.sistance, with lights, ropes, and ladders. Old John was scarcely able to descend the ladder, and did any hole exist, the blind man would most probably have fallen into it. Notwithstanding this he proposed descending, till old John persuaded him to give up the idea, and at length, when it would very likely be too late to save the lives of the explorers, they agreed to summon the captain. Captain Askew could scarcely understand the account he heard. That there was a vault under the Tower he was ready to believe, as he now remembered hearing the report that one existed, but that his young friend Charley and old companion Tom should have gone into it and been irretrievably lost he would not believe. He would immediately have descended himself to look for them, but that his timber-toe and a rickety ladder did not suit each other. He considered whom he could summon in the village, but they were all more or less connected with the smugglers. He however determined to ask the a.s.sistance of some of the most trustworthy among them. He took his hat and was hurrying down the hill when he met one of the men of the coastguard going his rounds. He at once agreed to accompany the captain, but said that by the delay of twenty minutes or so he could obtain the a.s.sistance of two or three of his mates, and as he could be of little use by himself, the captain begged him to get them as soon as possible.

The captain then went back to the Tower, and found blind Peter and old John waiting at the trap-door. They had heard sounds, they said, but had got no answer to their shouts. In vain the captain also hailed as a sailor alone can, though his voice had perhaps lost something of its strength. All remained silent below, and his fears for the safety of his friends increased to a painful degree. At last the coastguard men arrived--stout fellows, well armed--with their lanterns and ropes; they were not likely to be baffled in the search. As, however, they stood over the entrance of the dark abyss, the countenances of most of the party turned pale. They were ready to face smugglers or pirates, Russians, Frenchmen, Turks, or savages of every description, all the enemies of their country; but they had heard of the Tower being haunted, and suppose any of the ghosts, or spirits, or imps, who frequented the spot, should start up and confront them! The captain saw what they were thinking about. Following the system he had always adopted where danger was to be incurred, he exclaimed, "Lower me down first, my lads, I'll see what is to be seen." Suiting the action to the word he fastened a rope round his waist, and, with the help of it and the ladder, soon reached the bottom. The men now followed without hesitation, the captain leading the way, and looking round and round the vault. "It is very extraordinary," he exclaimed at length. "I can scarcely believe that they came down here, there is no hole into which they could have fallen, no outlet through which they could have pa.s.sed."

"It's vary terrible, vary terrible indeed, sir," said Sandy MacGregor, an old Scotchman and the chief boatman. "It's the spirits or the bogies ha' carried them off, there's na doubt about that, and it's only to be hoped that they'll na come and carry us awa' too."

The fear thus expressed very soon communicated itself to the other men, and had a rat started up, although they would not have deserted the captain, their knees would certainly have shaken as they had never done in the presence of a mortal foe.

"Nonsense, my man," exclaimed Captain Askew. "There are no spirits in this vault to hurt us, and depend on it if our friends have been carried away spirits have had nothing to do with it; still, I tell you, I cannot account for it."

It was indeed strange. Every cell, every nook and corner was examined.

The sides of the vault were either solid rock or masonry. There was no place through which two people could have pa.s.sed by any visible means.

At length, most unwillingly, Captain Askew told the men that he should return into the Tower. The order was obeyed with wonderful alacrity, and they were well pleased when he told them that he would be the last man up. They were all soon out of the vault, and ready to a.s.sist him up in the way he had gone down. He had to confess himself thoroughly baffled. When he talked the subject over with Mrs Askew, they could neither of them account for the way in which their dear child had been so cruelly carried off, nor how Tom nor Charley had disappeared, and yet they were fully convinced that human agency alone had been at work.

Meantime Becky had taken charge of the coasts guard men, and blind Peter and John, and was able, in spite of her grief, to serve them with bread and cheese and cider. As they continued to discuss the matter, Peter was the only one who persisted in a.s.serting that human agency alone had been employed, while Sandy MacGregor as strongly maintained that spirits of a very disreputable nature had a finger in the pie. That, however, like other matters of mystery, was one day to receive a solution.

CHAPTER EIGHT.