Patience Wins Part 18

"I was asleep and dreaming," I said to myself; and, starting up impatiently, I walked right out of the furnace-house across the strip of yard, and in at the door, making Piter give his stumpy tail a sharp rapping noise upon the floor of his kennel.

I went on all through the grinding workshop, and listened at the end of the place to the water trickling and dripping down in the great water-floored cellar.

That place had an attraction for me, and I stood listening for some minutes before walking back, thoroughly awake now.

I was so used to the place that I had no need to open the lantern, but threaded my way here and there without touching a thing, and I was able to pa.s.s right through to the upper floor in the same way.

Everything was correct, and Uncle Jack sleeping soundly, as I hoped to be after another hour or so's watching.

I would not disturb him, but stole out again, and along the workshop to the head of the stairs, where I descended and stooped to pat Piter again before looking about the yard, and then walking slowly into the warm furnace-house.

Then, after a glance at the windows where I had fancied I had seen someone creep in, I sat down in my old place enjoying the warmth, and once more the drowsy sensation crept over me.

How long it was before I dropped asleep I can't tell, but, bad watchman that I was, I did drop asleep, and began dreaming about the great dam miles away up the valley; and there it seemed to me I was fis.h.i.+ng with a long line for some of the great pike that lurked far down in the depths.

As I fished my line seemed to pa.s.s over a window-sill and sc.r.a.ped against it, and made a noise which set me wondering how large the fish must be that was running away with it.

And then I was awake, with the perspiration upon my forehead and my hands damp, listening.

It was no fis.h.i.+ng-line. I was not by the great dam up the river, but there in our own furnace-house, and something was making a strange rustling noise.

For some few moments I could not tell where the noise was. There was the rustling, and it seemed straight before me. Then I knew it was there, for immediately in front on the open fire something was moving and causing a series of little nickers and sparkles in the glowing ashes.

What could it be? What did it mean?

I was so startled that I was ready to leap up and run out of the place, and it was some time before I could summon up courage enough to stretch out a hand, and try to touch whatever it was that moved the glowing ashes.

Wire!

Yes; there was no doubt of it--wire. A long thin wire stretched pretty tightly reached right across me, and evidently pa.s.sed from the window overlooking the lane across the furnace and out of the window by the side of the dam.

What did it mean--what was going to happen?

I asked myself these questions as I bent towards the furnace, touching the wire which glided on through my hand towards the window by the dam.

It was all a matter of moments, and I could feel that someone must be drawing the wire out there by the dam, though how I could not tell, for it seemed to me that there was nothing but deep water there.

"Some one must have floated down the dam in a boat," I thought in a flash; but no explanation came to the next part of my question, what was it for?

As I bent forward there wondering what it could mean, I began to understand that there must be some one out in the lane at the other end of the wire, and in proof of this surmise I heard a low sc.r.a.ping noise at the window on my right, and then a hiss as if someone had drawn his breath in between his lips.

What could it mean?

I was one moment for shouting, "Who's there?" the next for turning on my bull's-eye; and again the next for running and rousing up Uncle Jack.

Then I thought that I would shout and call to Piter; but I felt that if I did either of these things I should lose the clue that was gliding through my hands.

What could it mean?

The wire, invisible to me, kept softly stirring the glowing ashes, and seemed to be visible there. Elsewhere it was lost in the black darkness about me, but I felt it plainly enough, and in my intense excitement, hundreds of yards seemed to have pa.s.sed through my hand before I felt a check and in a flash knew what was intended.

For, all at once, as the wire glided on, something struck against my hand gently, and raising the other it came in contact with a large canister wrapped round and round with stout soft cord.

What for?

I knew in an instant; I had read of such outrages, and it was to guard against them that we watched, and kept that dog.

I had hold of a large canister of gunpowder, and the soft cord wrapped around it was prepared fuse.

I comprehended too the horrible ingenuity of the scheme, which was to draw, by means of the wire, the canister of gunpowder on to the furnace, so that the fuse might catch fire, and that would give the miscreants who were engaged time to escape before the powder was fired and brought the chimney-shaft toppling down.

For a moment I trembled and felt ready to drop the canister, and run for my life.

Then I felt strong, for I knew that if I kept the canister in my hands the fuse could not touch the smouldering ashes and the plan would fail.

But how to do this without being heard by the men who must be on either side of the furnace-house.

It was easy enough; I had but to hold the canister high up above the fire, and pa.s.s it over till it was beyond the burning ashes and then let it continue its course to the other window.

It was a great risk, not of explosion, but of being heard; but with a curious feeling of reckless excitement upon me I held up the canister, stepping softly over the ash floor, and guiding the terrible machine on till the danger was pa.s.sed.

Then stealing after it I climbed gently on to the broad bench beneath the clean window, and with my head just beneath it touched the wire, and waited till the canister touched my hand again.

I had made no plans, but, urged on by the spirit of the moment, I seized the canister with both hands, gave it a tremendous jerk, and with my face at the window roared out:

"Now, fire! Fire! Shoot 'em down!"

I stood on the work-bench then, astounded at the effect of my cry.

Behind me there was a jerk at the wire, which snapped, and I heard the rush of feet in the lane, while before me out from the window there came a yell, a tremendous splash, and then the sound of water being beaten, and cries for help.

At the same moment Piter came rus.h.i.+ng into the furnace house, barking furiously, and directly after there was the noise of feet on the stairs, and Uncle Jack came in.

"What is it, Cob? Where's your light?" he cried.

I had forgotten the lantern, but I turned it on now as I tucked the canister beneath my arm.

"There's a man or two men drowning out here in the dam," I panted hoa.r.s.ely; and Uncle Jack leaped on to the bench by my side.

"Give me the lantern," he cried; and, taking it from my wet hands, he turned it on, held it to the open window, and made it play upon the surface of the dam.

"There are two men there, swimming to the side," he cried. "Stop, you scoundrels!" he roared; but the beating noise in the water increased.

One seemed to get his footing and held out his hand to his companion in distress. The next minute I saw that they had gained the stone wall at the side, over which they clambered, and from there we heard them drop down on to the gravel stones.

"They're gone, Cob," said my uncle.

"Shall we run after them?" I said.