The Black Box 6

The Black Box 6

With that, he replaced the box in its dark corner, and, having closed

the cupboard door, was just showing me the secret of the spring, when we

were once more startled by a noise outside--this time like that of

snapping twigs.

 

For a moment we both stood stock-still, listening, then running to the

window, looked out anxiously. But again there was nothing to be seen.

The ancient, broad-leaved chestnut tree which grew quite close above a

neighbouring wall and threw deep shadows on the lawn beneath, gave forth

no sign.

 

"Ah, Michael," quoth my father, smiling, though his look was most

uneasy, "methinks it is a case of guilty consciences begetting fearful

thoughts. A bird, an animal it surely was, or----" He stopped; for

suddenly, from nowhere, as it seemed to me, a great black cat sprang

into view and fled helter-skelter down the garden walk, with a goodly

length of narrow cord trailing from its neck.

 

We started back as though it had been the Evil One himself; then, as the

brute dashed out of view, turned to each other and broke out a-laughing.

But verily it struck me that our mirth was far from being hearty; and,

looking back, it seems a mockery that we laughed at all.

 

"So much for the disturber of our peace," remarked my father. "A poor

beast, doubtless tortured by some cruel lad, hath saved himself

from--hanging."

 

"’Tis a case of gallows cheating, then," said I; "and one of blackness,

too--a black cat there, a black box here."

 

I said this lightly, but my father cast a swift, uneasy glance towards

the secret panel.

 

"That’s true enough," he answered quickly. "But now for brighter

matters. This is your eighteenth birthday, Michael, and I have here for

you two presents which may help you on that way of soldiering which, as

I knew, would be your choice."

 

Going to a corner he brought therefrom two parcels, a long one and a

short one, neatly wrapped in cloth, and laid them on the table. The

larger one he undid first, and there, to my great delight, I saw as fine

a sword as any man could wish to wear; then, while I yet stood

enraptured at so grand a thing, he brought forth from the other package

a brace of handsome pistols with holsters all complete.

 

"Take these with a father’s blessing," said the old man, bowing

graciously. "And may you use them well and worthily, my son!"

 

"Sir!" I began, and forthwith tried to thank him, but the words came

stumbling awkwardly.

 

Then he must needs strap on the sword himself, and make me stand while

he surveyed the hang of it like any captain on parade.

 

"Yes, ’tis well enough, ’twill do," he said at last; "but remember,

Michael, that the truest blade is naught unless there be a good, true

heart behind it."

 

"Aye, sir, I will remember that," I answered solemnly.

 

"Ah, I am sure of it," rejoined my father. "And now I have it in mind

to write to my friend Lord Feversham concerning you. It may be that he

hath an ensignship or cornetcy to offer. Would that suit you?"

 

"With all my heart," I answered eagerly; "and may the chance to use this

sword come soon!"

 

My father smiled.

 

"Ah, never fear," he said, "’twill come quite soon enough; perhaps too

soon."

 

"You have no doubt, then, as to the meaning of that secret letter?"

 

"None whatever."

 

"And you feel certain that the Duke is coming on us?"

 

"Yes, quite certain, Michael."

 

"And where, think you, will he land?"

 

"Ah! there you ask too much. That is beyond my knowledge. But ’twill

be somewhere in the West, beyond a doubt."

 

"Will you not warn them up in London, then, of such grave danger?"

 

"Ah, I have thought of that. But where would be the use? The King, and

those around him, must know far more of this than I. Besides, rightly

to warn, the letter must be shown, and that, as I said before, is

fraught with real danger in such times as these."

 

I saw the truth of that, and was silent for a moment; then a thought

struck me.

 

"What if Monmouth landed here at Lyme?" I said.

 

My father started at the words.

 

"God forbid!" said he. "Our little town hath had enough of fighting for

all time. Enough! Let us leave warfare for the present, Michael;

’twill come quite soon enough--too soon, methinks. But that reminds me;

I have been thinking much about your meeting with that cut-throat rascal

on the road a few nights ago; and the more I think of it, the stranger

doth it seem. His name, now, I am not sure of it--what was it?--Tubal

something."

 

"Tubal Ammon."

 

"Ah, yes; and what a name it is! It rings of wickedness and cunning.

Still, I greatly doubt if it be his real name; as I also doubt that fine

long tale he told you of the Indians."

 

"Yet what of those strange things he showed me?"

 

"Ah, they do not greatly count, methinks; for as a sailor he might well

have come by them in far-off countries. Perchance his story was half

lies, half truth. But what most puzzles me, what in fact I cannot put

away, is the man he told you of who died aboard that ship, and spoke of

me and Lyme. If that be true, ’tis very strange."

 

"I scarcely think it was true, sir, but rather a piece of trickery to

hold me in the lane. Having found out my name, that is, he made a tale

to fit it."

 

"Perhaps you hit it rightly, Michael--and yet----"

 

"Well, sir, at any rate I fear it is impossible for us to prove it; for

no doubt the rascal is far enough away by now."

 

Barely had I said those words when from without there came the loud

snapping of a tree branch, followed by a heavy thud, and this again by

the sound of swiftly-running feet.

 

Springing to the window, I looked out. As I have said, a lusty chestnut

tree grew close above a neighbouring wall. This time its leaves were

shaking violently, while a broken branch lay lodged upon the wall top;

but there was no one to be seen, and so it was clear that whoever had

fallen must have gone down on the far side of the wall, that is, the one

on which the tree was rooted.

 

"What is it?" asked my father in an anxious whisper, leaning over me.

 

"A broken branch," I answered. "Someone was certainly in yonder tree."

 

The hand upon my shoulder trembled.

 

"Ah! say you so? Who could it have been?"

 

"That I will try to find out."

 

Climbing through the casement, which was but some ten feet above the

ground, I dropped lightly to the lawn. Midway in the garden wall a

little door led to a small demesne, of shrubbery and orchard. Full

carefully I opened this, and, passing through, stood listening. Not a

sound was to be heard, and as the grass had been mown but a day or two

before, and still lay in a thick swath, there was little chance of

finding tracks.

 

Going to the chestnut tree I examined it carefully, but found no marks

upon the trunk. Beyond the broken branch (a smallish one) there was no

sign of him who had disturbed us, save for a hollow in the hay beneath,

where he had fallen.

 

Having made sure of this, I again paused to listen; then, as no sound

reached me, I went in and out among the trees and shrubs, probing the

latter with my sword and searching every likely place. In this fashion

I had covered three parts of the ground, and had wellnigh given up all

hope of finding anything, when suddenly there came a rending crash from

the far end of the orchard, and by the sound of it not twenty yards from

where I was then engaged in exploring the recesses of a laurel bush.

 

Darting off in the direction of the noise, I soon perceived the cause of

it. Someone had gone by sheer force through a lofty hedge of privet,

which served as a boundary to the orchard. Where one had thus escaped,

another might be counted on to follow; taking a run, I hurled myself

fiercely at the hedge, and after much struggling (for it was wondrous

thick and strong) tumbled head foremost, out upon the other side.

 

Here a narrow foothold ended in a high, steep bank, and such was my

eagerness that I had much ado to keep from rolling to the bottom; but by

clutching at the grass I saved myself, and rising, looked about me.

Below me lay a well-grown spinney, and from thence, though no one was in

sight, came the sound of swiftly-running feet.

 

Next moment I was down the bank and speeding round the outskirts of the

wood, with flying footsteps right ahead of me. I was reckoned very

fleet in those days, but he whom I now pursued flew like the wind; and

what with that, and the many bends and juttings of the wood, he beat me:

run as I would I could not get a sight of him.

 

In this mad fashion we must have circled round the wood at least three

times, and I was just wondering what the end of such a giddy chase would

be, when suddenly the running footsteps of my quarry ceased behind a

clump of bushes thirty yards or so ahead. Breathless, I stopped to

listen. The hurried pad of feet was followed by a curious scraping

noise--then all was still again.