A Queen's Error Part 11

"Where is the key of the safe?"

I was enraged at the sound of his voice.

"You shall never know, you vile devil!" I cried.

"Give it to him," he exclaimed sharply to the two men in German. As he spoke I heard the sharp report of two sporting guns, one charged with black powder, one, from its quick sharp crack, with smokeless, _quite near_. There were two sportsmen.

Then--oh my G.o.d!--began that awful torture of a strong current of electricity pa.s.sing up my arms.

I threw back my head and cried with all my strength, directing my voice to the open window far above me in the roof of the tower--

"Help! Murder! Help!"

And immediately, to my great joy, I heard an answering shout!

"_Donner und blitzen_!" cried Saumarez, "he has attracted their attention! Stop his mouth!"

Immediately I felt a handkerchief being rammed into my mouth, but from far below came the sound of hard knocking on the door of the tower, and men's voices shouting.

Saumarez rapped out a fearful oath, and gave an order to the men.

"You must carry him down below and drop him through the trap door into the vaults," he cried. "You will have plenty of time to do it if you are quick. Unbind him, sharp now!"

The two men commenced to do as he told them and very soon had the straps off me, then they carried me between them towards the door after firmly securing the gag in my mouth.

They had got about half-way down the spiral staircase with me, Saumarez following behind, and I was in an agony of mind that they would succeed in reaching the vaults with me, when I heard the door burst in below, and a cheer from several voices, followed by rapid footsteps on the steps.

"It's no good," cried Saumarez with another oath, "drop him and follow me up to the roof."

They did drop me very roughly on the stone stairs, but before they went I heard one of the men cry out--

"Don't kill him in cold blood!"

Then there came the click of a pistol lock followed by a deafening report, and a bullet struck the step I was lying on about an inch from my temple. There was a scuffling of feet on the stairs above, mingled with words of remonstrance in German; the two men were hurrying Saumarez away.

The report and the impact of the bullet had half stunned me, but I sat up, and my hands being free, tore the gag out of my mouth. At the same time, rapid footsteps came up the stairs, and, in a few moments, I found a very familiar face, with an absolutely astounded expression on it looking down into mine.

"In Heaven's name!" a well-known voice cried, "what are you doing here, Bill?"

It was my cousin, Lord St. Nivel, a subaltern in the Coldstream Guards!

CHAPTER VII

CRUFT'S FOLLY

Looking over my cousin's shoulders were two other faces, one covered with rough hair, and evidently belonging to a game-keeper, the other the beautiful face of my cousin, Lady Ethel Vanborough, St. Nivel's sister.

"Poor fellow!" she remarked sympathetically. "What have they been doing to you?"

I could hardly believe my eyes, and pa.s.sed my hand wearily across my forehead.

St. Nivel turned to the keeper.

"Give me the brandy flask," he said.

The man produced it, and my cousin poured some out in the little silver cup attached to it.

"It's a lucky thing for you, Bill," he observed, while I greedily drank the brandy down, "that I thought of bringing this flask with me this morning. Ethel was against it; she's a total abstainer."

"Except when alcohol is needed medicinally," she interposed in an explanatory tone, "then it is another matter."

I now took a good look at her; she was wearing a short, tweed, tailor-made shooting costume, and carried in her hand a light sixteen bore shot gun.

"You look just about done," continued her brother. "Whatever has happened to you?"

"You would look bad," I answered, "if you had had nothing to eat since lunch yesterday."

St. Nivel was a soldier and man of action.

"Botley," he said to the keeper, "the sandwiches."

"Now," said the guardsman invitingly, when I had ravenously disposed of my second sandwich, "tell us something about it."

I had just opened my lips to speak, when there came a great cry from the roof of the tower above, and a black body shot past the little window near which I was sitting.

We all ran to the window but could see nothing.

Then St. Nivel made a suggestion.

"Let us mount up to the roof," he said, "and see what is to be seen.

You, Botley, had better go down to the foot of the tower."

The keeper touched his forelock and commenced his descent of the spiral staircase. Meanwhile, Lady Ethel, her brother and I mounted up to the top.

We pa.s.sed the room in which I had been imprisoned, and went up a very much narrower flight of steps to the roof, coming out at a little door which was standing open. The roof was flat and covered with lead.

"Take care how you tread," cried St. Nivel. "I expect it is all pretty rotten. In fact, Ethel, I think you had better go inside."

Ethel, however, was not of that way of thinking; she was a thorough sportswoman and wanted to see all the fun.

"All right, Jack," she rejoined cheerily. "You go on, I'll look after myself without troubling you."

It was very evident at the first glance that there had been an accident, a piece of the low stone wall which surrounded the roof was gone. It looked as if it had recently tumbled over. St. Nivel was evidently right when he said the place was rotten. Rotten it certainly was.

Stepping very gingerly we all approached the embattled wall, and, selecting the firmest part, looked over, one at a time. I had the second peep and was just in time to see two men, one limping very much--this I am sure was Saumarez--disappear into a neighbouring wood.