Читать книгу: «The Old Tobacco Shop», страница 9

CHAPTER XVII
HIGH DUDGEON AND LOW DUDGEON

The pirate captain and his men rose from the ground, and Captain Lingo, in his politest manner, requested his captives to follow him. The entire party moved down the slope into the valley, and after a walk of some quarter of a mile entered a grove of trees. In this grove were tethered ten handsome mules, of which seven were saddled and three were laden with packs.

One of the pack-mules was quickly unladen, a fire was built, and in ten minutes the hungry guests and their hosts were making a very good breakfast of bacon, fried by Mr. Leatherbread, as the captain called him, one of the pirates to whom the business of the frying-pan was left by general consent. When the bacon had been washed down with clear cold water from a spring near by, and the mule had been packed again, Freddie and Aunt Amanda were assisted into the saddles of the two smallest mules, and the captain mounted into the saddle of the largest.

"Now look here, Captain Lingo," said Aunt Amanda, "I want to know where we are going and all about it. The idea of me sitting here a-straddle of a mule! And this bonnet simply ruined, and my dress just about fit to go to the rag-bone man, and my hair – Look here, Captain Lingo, I ain't going a step on this mule until you tell me what – "

"Pardon me, my dear lady," said the captain, "but I must ask you to put up with my little whims a short while longer. I beg the pleasure of your society upon a little journey; nothing more. I assure you the country is very interesting. May I not promise myself the bliss of your approval?" He turned to the six pirates with a scowl. "Mount the rest of them, scoundrels!"

Four of the captives were mounted by the pirates on the remaining mules, and the procession moved out of the grove into the open valley.

Freddie had never ridden a mule before, and he was delighted. When they entered, as they soon did, the great forest which they had seen from the plateau, Freddie was more than ever delighted. After the blazing sun of the open country, the shade of the forest was delicious. The trees were huge, and while the trunks were far apart, their branches made a leafy roof overhead which was almost unbroken. Flowering plants grew everywhere; vines climbed the trees; little streams murmured here and there; and the only sound which disturbed the repose of the forest was the occasional screech of a parrot and the occasional chatter of monkeys. The first time Freddie heard the sudden scream of a parrot in the stillness he was thoroughly alarmed, but when he learned what it was, and saw the flash of the bird's plumage between the trees, he forgot all about his danger, and for the rest of the day he gave himself up to the pleasure of watching for parrots and monkeys among the branches.

The Sly Old Codger turned in his saddle and said to Toby, who was riding behind, with Mr. Punch walking between:

"A work of nature, my dear friend, a real work of nature. So beautiful! Parrots and monkeys flitting about overhead, the primeval forest stretching its bosky arms above us in all directions —so bosky! What one might call a real work of nature; so very, very bosky."

"Right you are," said Toby. "It puts our Druid Hill Park in the shade, that's a fact; makes it take a back seat and play second fiddle, as sure as you're born."

"Hi beg your pardon," said Mr. Punch. "'Ow can a park sit down and play a fiddle?"

All day long they moved onward, single file, further and further into the depths of the forest. At noon they halted for a luncheon of fried bacon, prepared by Mr. Leatherbread. The afternoon wore on, and the forest became gloomier and gloomier about them as they marched; the silence grew almost terrifying; and all the pleasure which Freddie had felt in the morning vanished. Night fell, and the procession entered a little clearing, and there the pirates made camp for the night.

After a supper of fried bacon, prepared by Mr. Leatherbread, the whole party retired to rest, each on a mattress of green branches and leaves, covered with blankets. The night was mild, and when the last blanket had been made ready the moon rose and tinged the tops of the trees with silver; and while Freddie was watching the moon as it climbed higher, he fell asleep. Aunt Amanda did not go to sleep so soon.

Ketch the Practitioner had devoted himself very specially to her in preparing her resting-place. While he was spreading the branches and blankets for her, she said to him:

"Ketch, where are we going?"

"Not so loud, ma'am," said he. "We are going to High Dudgeon."

"High Dudgeon! What's that?"

"S-sh! When we're disappointed, or disgusted, or vexed, we always go to our home in High Dudgeon."

"Is that where you live?"

"Part of the time, ma'am. Mostly we are away at sea or on the Island; but when anything goes wrong, and we're angry about it, we always go home and stay there, in High Dudgeon. Yes, ma'am."

"And what are they going to do with us when they get us there?"

"S-sh! You'll be in great danger there. If you can find any way to escape from there, I advise you – S-sh! Not another word. Captain Lingo is looking this way. I must go."

Aunt Amanda did not sleep very well that night.

In the morning, after a breakfast of fried bacon, prepared by Mr. Leatherbread, the company resumed its march.

At noon, a halt was made beside a spring for rest and food, and here Mr. Leatherbread prepared a luncheon of fried bacon.

In the evening, as the travellers were plodding onward, Ketch walked for a time at the head of Aunt Amanda's mule. Aunt Amanda leaned forward and said to him:

"Ketch, are we going to have more bacon tonight?"

"No, ma'am," said he, in a low voice. "We'll have supper in High Dudgeon. My old mother's the cook there. You heard me mention her yesterday morning. I've an idea there'll be pigeon pies for supper. And mark what I'm saying to you, ma'am." His voice sank to a whisper. "If you get a pigeon pie for supper, look careful to see what's inside of it before you eat it."

"Mercy on us!" said Aunt Amanda. "Are they going to poison us?"

But Ketch slipped away in the gathering darkness, and said no more.

They had gone but a few hundred yards further, when, at the moment when the darkness of night was making ready to blot out everything, they suddenly emerged into a round grassy clearing enclosed by the forest, where the light was better, and over which a star or two could be seen glimmering in a pale blue sky. In the midst of this clearing rose a tower.

It was a round tower, built of stone; its top came scarcely to the top of the surrounding trees, and it was in fact not more than two stories high; it appeared, with its wide girth, low and squat. Its sides were pierced here and there with deep and narrow slits, for windows, and on one side was a heavy oaken door, with great iron hinges and an iron lock. Through two or three of the upper slits in the wall glimmered a light from within. It was otherwise dark and forbidding.

Aunt Amanda found Ketch at her mule's head again. She leaned forward and said to him:

"Is that High Dudgeon?"

"No, ma'am. That's Low Dudgeon."

"Low Dudgeon? What do you mean by Low Dudgeon?"

Ketch looked at the tower and shuddered. "I don't like to talk about it, ma'am. I don't like the place. It's the place where we used to live long ago, before we built High Dudgeon. There's none of us wants to live there now. We haven't lived there since – " Ketch paused, and shuddered again, and evidently decided not to go on.

"There's a light up there," said Aunt Amanda. "Does anybody live there?"

"No, ma'am," said Ketch. "Nobody lives there."

"But there's a light," said Aunt Amanda. "Surely there must be somebody there."

"There is, ma'am; there is; thirteen of 'em."

"Thirteen what?"

But Ketch only shuddered again, and would say no more.

Aunt Amanda noticed that instead of going straight onward past the door of Low Dudgeon, the pirates led the file in a wide course away from it, along the edge of the clearing, as if to avoid coming near to it; and when the procession had thus skirted the clearing and entered the forest again on the other side, leaving the low tower behind, a sigh, as if of relief, went up from Ketch and all the other pirates; except, however, from Captain Lingo himself, who appeared to be wholly indifferent.

"How much further?" said Aunt Amanda to Ketch.

"About a mile, ma'am," said he.

The last mile of their journey was a long mile, and it was traversed in perfect darkness. The moon had not yet risen. Not a word was spoken, and there was no sound except the pad of the mules' feet and the breaking of twigs and branches as the travellers pushed their way through. The prisoners were in a state of greater nervousness and anxiety than before, and as they neared the place where their lives were to be disposed of in one way or another, their sense of uncertainty became almost unbearable. When it seemed that they must be close to the fateful place, the procession suddenly halted, and at the same instant the screech of a parrot startled the silence and made each of the prisoners jump.

"It's only the captain," said Ketch. "It's a signal."

Immediately, as if in response, there came from a distance in advance the note of a cuckoo, three times repeated. The procession moved forward.

A moment or two later, the whole company came forth from the forest under the stars, and stood on the edge of a wide round clearing, grown high with grass and weeds. In the midst of this clearing rose a tower.

"High Dudgeon," said Ketch over his shoulder.

This also was a round tower, built of stone; but it was very tall, much taller than the highest trees, and from the top there must have been a view of all the surrounding country, even as far as the hill within which was the treasure cave; from the number of deep and narrow slits which served as windows it must have been six or seven stories high. The top of the tower was flat, with battlements around the rim. As a fortress, it seemed to be impregnable; as a dwelling-house, it was very dismal indeed. It was totally dark. The captives trembled at the thought of being imprisoned in such a place.

The wayfarers proceeded in their single file directly to the great iron-bound oaken door of the tower, and those who were mounted got down. Ketch assisted Aunt Amanda and Freddie to alight, and having done so he took charge of the mules and led them away.

Captain Lingo took from his breeches pocket a small key and unlocked the door.

"Be so kind as to enter," he said, and made way for the captives and his men.

When all were within, including Ketch, who had now returned, the captain locked the door on the inside and restored the key to his pocket.

CHAPTER XVIII
THE SOCIETY FOR PIRATICAL RESEARCH

They were in a dark and narrow passage-way. As they stood huddled there together, a candle glimmered at the end of the passage, held in a tremulous hand, and lighting up the face of a very old woman. She advanced towards the party by the door, and holding her candle high above her head inspected the strangers with little blinking watery eyes. She was short and bent; she hobbled as she came forward; her face was seamed with deep wrinkles, and the hand which held the candle was knotted and gnarled; wisps of dirty grey hair hung over her eyes.

"Aha! Mother Ketch," said Captain Lingo. "I wager thou didst not expect us so soon. What's in the larder? We are famished."

Old Mother Ketch looked at her son, the Practitioner, and nodded her head at him once or twice, blinking her eyes. Then she fixed her eyes on Aunt Amanda, and seemed to forget everybody else.

"Well? well?" said Captain Lingo, impatiently. "Art going to keep us here all night? Come, woman! Speak up directly! What's for supper, eh?"

Mother Ketch slowly removed her eyes from Aunt Amanda, and looked at the captain steadily.

"There's nought but pigeons and mushrooms and – " said she.

"Good!" said the captain. "Then we will have pigeon pies; one for each; and well filled, mind you. Now haste; be off."

Mother Ketch turned and hobbled slowly down the passage, and the glimmer of her candle disappeared.

"Follow me," said Captain Lingo.

The six pirates vanished somewhere in the darkness, and the others followed Captain Lingo up a winding stair. At the top was a heavy door, which he unlocked with his key, and locked again on the inside after his guests had passed through. He then led them down a dark passage-way, and turning to the right unlocked a door with his key and threw it open.

They were in a large dining-room, on the table of which were numerous candles, which the captain lighted. In one wall was an opening for a dumb-waiter for sending up food from the kitchen below. The party seated themselves at the table, and after a considerable time Ketch entered, a napkin on his arm, and at the same time the dumb-waiter rose from the kitchen, and the meal commenced.

Ketch waited on the table. Besides pigeon pies there were mushrooms, a lettuce salad, hot biscuit, and excellent coffee. Ketch placed the first pigeon pie before the captain, and Aunt Amanda noticed that he examined the top of it carefully as he did so. She observed that he examined the top of each pie carefully before he placed it, until he had put one before herself, after which he put the others about without looking at them. She examined the top of her own pie herself, to see what Ketch could have been looking at. She saw in the center of it a tiny figure made of very brown dough, and as she looked closer it seemed to have the shape of a tiny key. She glanced at the other pies, and none of them bore any mark of this kind.

Everyone set to with a good will, and Aunt Amanda opened her pie. She remembered Ketch's caution, and she prodded it secretly with her fork before taking a bite. At the bottom her fork touched something hard. She immediately began to put the contents of her pie on her plate, and she did so in such a way as to leave the hard object beneath the rest. In the course of the meal, she dropped a portion of the pie to the floor, and stooped to pick it up. As she did so, she managed to take the hard object from her plate and conceal it in her lap. It was a key.

When the meal was over, the captain led his guests forth to their respective bedrooms, each carrying a lighted candle from the table. At the top of a stair was a closed door, which he unlocked with his key, and locked after the others had passed through. Along the passage which ran from this door were doors at intervals in the walls, and these he opened, one after another, showing one of his guests each time into a bedroom and leaving him there. On the stair, Aunt Amanda had whispered into Toby's ear the words, "Don't go to bed. Pass it along." And these words had been passed in a whisper from one to another of the captives.

Aunt Amanda, in her own room, now sat herself down to wait. She blew out her candle, and sat watching the shaft of moonlight which came through the slit that served for a window. She must have fallen asleep, for she came to herself with a start, and found the shaft of moonlight gone. She limped to the door, and found it locked. She took from her dress the pigeon-pie key and unlocked the door. The passage-way outside was silent and dark. She felt her way along the wall to the next door, and found it locked. She quietly unlocked it with her key. Toby was sitting within, waiting. He rose without a word, and followed her. They tiptoed from door to door, finding each one locked, and silently released each of the prisoners.

The key fitted every lock on their way down stairs. They reached the ground floor without an accident, and there in the passage which they had first seen they stopped to listen. They heard the click of a latch at the rear; a door there opened quietly on a crack and a light shone through; every heart stopped beating for a moment. The door opened wider, and a lighted candle appeared, and over it the wrinkled face of an old woman; she peered out into the passage, shading the candle with a trembling hand; the party of quaking runaways stood as still as mice, and held their breath; the old woman blinked for a moment into the darkness, and blew out her candle. All was dark again, and the latch of the door clicked.

The runaways lost no time. They crept silently but rapidly to the entrance door. Aunt Amanda unlocked and opened it, and they pressed out hurriedly. They were standing on the grass in a flood of moonlight.

Aunt Amanda, whose lameness had been almost forgotten in her excitement, now leaned on Toby, who was holding Freddie's hand, and who led the way to the rim of the forest where the trail lay. There was some difficulty in finding the trail, but they did find it at last, and they filed into the forest. They had not gone more than twenty yards when Toby, who was in advance, saw a great black object directly across their path. He went forward cautiously, in spite of his alarm, and breathed a sigh of joy when he saw what it was: it was a mule, saddled and bridled, and tied to a bush. Further on were other mules, all tethered; there were ten in all, of which eight were saddled and two were laden with packs.

"Blessings on that Ketch," whispered Aunt Amanda.

In a moment the entire party were mounted. In another moment they were going along the trail at a fast walk. The mules knew the way, and there was now no danger of going astray in the forest. Only, where were they to go, after all? If the pirates should catch them, everything would soon be over. If they should manage to elude the pirates, they would still be lost in the wilderness of this unknown Island. What was to become of them not one could tell. The future seemed very dark indeed.

Once or twice they paused, to listen for sounds of pursuit; but they heard nothing; not a sound disturbed the stillness; and the little moonlight which filtered here and there through the trees seemed to make the darkness more intense.

They had gone about half a mile, and were plodding along in drowsy silence, when suddenly, out of the tall bushes beside the trail, seven dark figures sprang upon them and seized the bridles of their mules.

"Ah!" cried Toby. "We are lost! The pirates!"

The mules stood stock still.

"It's no use," said Toby. "We can't escape. They are armed, and we are not. All right, Captain Lingo, don't strike; we surrender. We'll go back with you; don't strike."

"I beg your pardon," said a voice which none of them had ever heard before. "Are you pirates?"

"Ain't you pirates yourselves?" cried Aunt Amanda.

"What?" said the voice. "Is there a lady here? In that case, you are probably not pirates. Perhaps we have been too hasty. I beg your pardon."

"Who are you?" said Aunt Amanda.

"Do you admit that you are not pirates?" said the voice.

"Admit it!" said Aunt Amanda. "We vow and declare it! The very idea!"

"I am sorry to hear it," said the voice. "We are deeply disappointed. We of course cannot doubt the word of a lady, but we were almost sure we had found them. We have been searching for pirates for a long time, and we were advised that they lived somewhere near here. We must have missed our way. Could you perhaps direct us? It is a place called High Dudgeon."

"You bet we could," said Toby, "but we won't. We are running away from there, and you had better run too."

"Then perhaps you happen to know the whereabouts of a place called Low Dudgeon, where the pirates formerly lived?"

"We do," said Toby. "You are about half-way now between High Dudgeon and Low Dudgeon; and you had better get out of this neighborhood as fast as you can."

"This is very interesting," said the voice. "I feel that you will be able to give us some valuable information. If you have no objection, we will walk behind you until we come to a place where there is more light, when we will have a few minutes' conversation on this interesting subject."

The seven dark figures stood aside, and the mules moved onward. The seven figures walked behind.

In five minutes they reached a patch of ground where the moon shone brightly through the trees, and the riders drew in their animals, and turned to look at the figures who now marched sedately up beside them. These figures stood in a row facing the riders, and six of them turned their heads to the right, looking towards the first in the row, who was probably their leader.

They were seven tall men, dressed in black frock coats and striped trousers, with pearl-gray spats; but instead of high silk hats each wore a small black skull-cap, as more convenient, no doubt, for their rough life in the forest. It could be seen that they were no ordinary men; they looked like professors at college; their faces were thoughtful and even intellectual; each one wore spectacles; they squinted as if from too much poring over books by lamplight. The one at the head of the row was fat, with mutton-chop whiskers, and his frock coat was buttoned tight over a round stomach. He spoke in the same voice which they had heard in the dark.

"I beg your pardon," said he. "If you will be so kind as to direct us either to High Dudgeon or to Low Dudgeon, we will not fail to gratefully acknowledge – "

"Aha!" said one of the others, in a playful tone. "A split infinitive, Professor!"

"I beg your pardon. A slight inadvertence. To acknowledge gratefully your kind – "

"There's no time to talk now," said Toby. "We are running away from these bloodthirsty cut-throats, and if they catch us we are dead, as sure as you're born. I'll tell you what we will do. We'll all keep on to Low Dudgeon, and we'll go in there, if we can get in, and decide there what we had better do. It looked like a strong tower, and we would certainly be as safe inside there as out of doors, if the pirates should come along."

The Professor looked down the line of his companions. "What is the sense of the Committee on this proposal?" said he. "Ah. Very good. We are agreed. Proceed, my dear sir."

"One minute," said Aunt Amanda. "Excuse my asking, but I should like to know who you are, anyway."

The Professor waved a fat hand towards his companions, and looking at Aunt Amanda, said:

"We belong, madam, to the Society for Piratical Research, under the patronage of his gracious Majesty, the King of this Island. You behold before you a committee of that Society; the Committee on Doubtful and Fabulous Tales, sometimes called for the sake of brevity, from the initials of its title, the Daft Committee. As Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, I have the honour to be Chairman of the Daft Committee. The seat of our Society is far from here, in the principal city of this kingdom, the famous City of Towers, blest as the residence of his gracious Majesty, the most learned and liberal of princes. Our camp, which we made only late this evening, lies at no great distance from this spot. We did not wish to delay our researches until morning, and so, as Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, and Chairman of the Daft Committee, I – "

"Much obliged," said Toby. "We've no time to listen to any more. We must get on."

The Daft Committee, led by the Third Vice-President, fell in behind the mules, and the whole party moved forward, as rapidly as the mules and the committee could walk.

Aunt Amanda felt far from easy at the prospect of entering Low Dudgeon; but she had told Toby something of Ketch's strange words and manner regarding that place, and she was glad to leave the responsibility to him. Their dark and silent progress through the forest continued, and when they had gone what they thought must have been about half a mile, they knew they must be near their destination. Every eye was watchful and every ear was alert. A grunt from Toby in advance notified the others that they had arrived, and they filed out of the forest into the clearing, and saw before them the squat tower of Low Dudgeon in the moonlight.

The same light as before appeared from within, through the upper slits in the side of the tower. As they drew in their mules at the edge of the clearing, the Daft Committee came up, and the Third Vice-President spoke in a low voice.

"I presume," he said, "that this is Low Dudgeon. I have heard of it, but I have never seen it. It was formerly, some hundred years ago, the headquarters of the pirates. But something occurred here, I do not know what, which impelled the pirates to move. They accordingly built themselves a much better residence, known as High Dudgeon, where I understand they now live. I do not believe that Low Dudgeon has been occupied since. Gentlemen," he said, turning to his companions, "we are fortunate in having found this interesting place at last, after so much trouble. It is the very spot in which to begin our researches."

A murmur of approval arose from the other members of the committee.

"I don't know whether it's occupied or not," said Aunt Amanda. "Ketch told me that no one lives there, and that there's thirteen of 'em; and he seemed to be afraid of the place. And there's a light up there. I don't understand it."

"Gentlemen," said the Third Vice-President, "is it the sense of the committee that we begin our researches in Low Dudgeon?"

Every member of the Daft Committee murmured his assent.

"If we go into the forest," said Toby, "we may be caught; if we go in here, we are safe for a while, anyway, and we can decide there what we had better do; maybe these gentlemen can send for help. Anyway, let's get in if we can."

The riders dismounted from their mules and tied them to trees; in another moment the whole party were standing before the door of the tower.

"Better knock," said Toby.

They knocked, and knocked again; there was no answer.

"Aunt Amanda," said Toby, "try your key."

Aunt Amanda tried the key, and it fitted; she turned it, and the lock snapped back. Toby thrust open the door.

The company entered, and Toby took the key and locked the door behind them. They were in a dark passage, near the foot of a winding stair. "We had better go up where the light is," said Toby, in a whisper.

They went cautiously and noiselessly up the stair to the landing. There they found themselves in a hall, and at a little distance down the hall they saw a dim light shining under a closed door. "There it is," said Toby. "Come on."

With the same breathless caution they tiptoed to the door. It had no lock, and Toby turned the knob and slowly pushed it open.

"Ah!" said Toby, in a frightened gasp, and started back.

The others crowded at his back and pushed him forward. The Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research brushed past him into the room, and the other six members followed him. The party of fugitives moved slowly in after them.

In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the center of this table stood some twenty wax tapers in silver candlesticks, burning brightly; and seated around the table were thirteen men.

Not one of these men moved as the party came into the room. Not a limb nor muscle stirred. The Third Vice-President coughed aloud. Still none of the men moved so much as a finger. The whole party came forward to the table and stood close behind the thirteen men and examined them. They were dead.

They were sitting in all positions. Food was before them, as if they were in the midst of a meal. Some were leaning across the table as if in conversation. Some were in the act of cutting meat on their plates, some in the act of putting forks to their mouths. Every face was ghastly white, and every eye was fixed in a vacant stare.

"See!" said Toby, in a whisper, pointing to their backs.

From the back of each was sticking the handle of a knife, the blade of which was buried in the flesh to the hilt.

Aunt Amanda sank on Toby's shoulder for a moment, but she soon recovered. Freddie grasped Toby's hand.

"Look," said Toby. "They must be pirates."

Each head was bound with a bright-colored kerchief, and as the horrified company examined the dead men closer, it was seen that they all wore knee breeches. A long dagger was sticking upright in the table, just under the candles. Pinned by this dagger to the table was a large sheet of white paper, and there was evidently writing on it.

The Third Vice-President had apparently little fear of thirteen dead men; he went directly to the table, and reaching across between two of the stiff figures drew the dagger from the table and took from the dagger's point the sheet of paper. He adjusted his spectacles, turned his back to the candles so as to obtain a good light on the paper, and read from it aloud:

"Thus does Captain Lingo serve All Traitors."

For a moment there was silence. Then Aunt Amanda spoke sharply.

"The wicked villain!" said she. "Thirteen of his men dead at once, by his own hand! No wonder the six that are left are afraid of him! No wonder they don't like this place! Oh the wicked scoundrel! If I had him here, I declare I would – "

She paused suddenly and listened. There was a stealthy creaking on the stairs. It grew more distinct; then it stopped, and there was silence.

The thirteen in their chairs made no motion whatever; but the living turned with one accord towards the open doorway of the room. They waited with bated breath. In another moment Captain Lingo himself was standing in the doorway, a pistol in his right hand and a knife in his left. Without a word he advanced into the room, and behind him came his six men, shrinking obviously away from the sight of their thirteen murdered friends.

As Captain Lingo came to a stand before his recent prisoners, his eyes blazed, and with his right thumb he cocked his pistol. Each of his men held a pistol in his right hand and a cutlass in his left, and each cocked his pistol with his thumb.

The Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, who seemed in no wise disconcerted, stepped forward and addressed the pirate.

"Captain Lingo, I presume?"

"Ay, ay; be quick. I must finish this business quickly."

"My committee and myself have been long anxious, sir, in the interest of science, to make your acquaintance. I rejoice at this opportunity."