THE ADVENTURERS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 223, 21 September 1898, Page 6

THE ADVENTURERS.

Being a Narrative of Adventure compiled from the papers of EDWARD 't GREATOREX, of the Inner Temple, i Barrister at Law, and edited by his executor, H. B. Marriott-Watson.

BY H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON-

CHAPTER XV. (Continued.)

In these desperate considerations I spun out the best of an hour, at which time the keys creaked suddenly in the door, and Sercombe entered, bearing a heavy lamp. This he set down upon the rude bench table, and turned to me, seating himself in a chair, and disposing himself with comfort.

'I regret, Mr Greatorex,' said he, suavely, and pulling at his cigar, with his hat on the back of his head, 'I regret that I am somewhat late to my appointment- with yon. .It was to have been nine o'clock. I fancy,' said he, interrogating me civilly. Now I recalled what, to say the truth, I had completely forgotten in the adventure which I had experienced that I had myself named such an hour to receive the capitulation of the Captain. It maddened me to remember the fact, and my triumphant diplomacy of the afternoon, in the face of my dismal failure to this bleared and sprawling' creature. But I ,was not to take a rebuff with my ears down, and so I spoke up as calmly and as politely as himself. 'Yoii are right,' said I, 'nine o'clock it was. But, like you, I have been unavoidably delayed, so please don't apologise.' A smile lit up his face (and he was always best when he smiled) and his ey^s twinkled. * -I begin to see, Mr Greatorex,' he said, 'how it is that you have come so near winning this campaign.' •I have no doubt I shall win it yet,' I returned. 'No doubt,' lie replied, cordially. 'But forgive me, Mr Greatorex, I see you have no refreshments here, and I am sure you are in need of them. It was unpardonable of Hood.' So saying, he rose and went to the door, shouting some order to a man below, ■whom I judged must be considered a sentry. Presently, and before the Captain resumed his seat, Hood himself entered, bearing in his hands a tray containing- a bottle of whisky, a carafe of water, and some glasses. He cast an eye .of scrutiny on Sercombe, who lolled once more in his chair, but he said nothing, and retired, breathing his obsequiousness to the door. Sercombe filled two glasses. 'Allow me, Mr Greatorex,' he said, and puffed for some minutes in silence. Indeed, it was I who first resumed the conversation. 'I j>resume, Captain Sercombe,' I said, ' that you have come to tell me that you do not accept my offer.' 'Precisely,' he owned, taking his cigar from his mouth, 'That is exactly the position, Mr Greatorex. I don't know how you guessed it, but there it is. I do not feel justified in consideration of my relations with Mr Hood in accepting your proposals.' 'Then,' I said, bluffly, but keeping up the farce, 'I see no reason for our continuing this interview, and as I am somewhat tired, if you will excuse' me —' 'I would not trespass upon you in the slightest,' he interrupted. 'But I had an idea that perhaps we might arrive at a compromise.' 1 said nothing, for I had not the faintest notion of what he was drivingat, > 'You are aware,' he continued in his pleasant voice, 'that there is an access to the dungeon in Avhich, justifiably or otherwise (I express no opinion), you confined our host.' I bowed and sipped my whisky and water. ! 'You are also aware,' he went on, 'that now the only other person who has knowledge of that private road is—let us say—enjoying the hospitality of the "Woodman," the treasure chests are not likely to remain long where they are.' He waited on my answer, as if something anxious, but I merely nodded, and watched him. Captain Sercombe from his comfortable attitude bent his red brows at me. 'May I ask you, Mr Greatorex,' he said quite coolly, 'if you happen to have locked the door of the dungeon?' For answer, and without giving the matter a thought, I produced the key, which, as I have already narrated, I had put in my pocket. Sercombe's eye lightened. He rose, and went on a run to the door, opening it, and glancing into the darkness. Then he returned and drew his chair nearer to mine.

'You made me a proposition this afternoon,' he said, earnestly. 'I did,' said I, 'which I now beg to retract.' 'It was not good enough,' he went on, paying" no attention to'my sarcasm, 'not nearly good enough. But what do you say if I make one to you now?' I shrugged my shoulders. 'I am at your mercy,' I said. 'Mr Greatorex,' he said, severely, 'I think you sometimes forget that I am a [gentleman.' 'I forget nothing-,' said I, 'but I remember everything. Sercombe uttered a hoarse laugh. His laughter was very discordant with his voice. 'I envy you your powers of ease,' he said. '1 am pretty good, but I admit you beat me. But come, lam making you a proposition. What do you say?' 'I have already said it.' 'I see I will get no more change out of you,' he said, soberly. 'But I know a man to trust when I see him. That has been my safeguard, Mr Greatorex. And I know a man to distrust, though sometimes it is unavoidable-^-' He broke off. 'Your friends don't know where you went to-night?' he asked, suddenly. 'Why do you ask?' I said. 'If the dungeon door is locked,' he continued, leaning towards me confidentally, but paying no attention to my rejoinder, 'it is impossible that they can get into it.' 'Two and two are four,' I answered. 'But if your friends had the key,' he went on, growing very earnest; 'what

would happen? I imagine that they would open the door, find the bird flown, and.' perhaps the entrance to the secret passage disclosed.' This began to interest me. What was the rascal's purpose? 'Well,' I put in. He lowered his voice, which conveyed a certain effect, of fear to my | mind. i 'In which case the treasure would | remain in the possession of the Castle.' j • 'Yo\i speak like a book of Euclid,' I ; returned after a pause. 'And now,- j Captain, let me ask in my turn, what i proposition you are making to me?' ! He .considered for a moment.' There [ ar& three of you,' he said, 'but I con- . fess I cannot reckon my friend Mont- ' gomery. Let us say two. I am will-' ing to go halves with you, in which! case, as, you will see, there is a quar- ; ter for yourself.' My watch ticked in my stomach, j and I could hear it distinctly. At,the j end of some seconds I looked at Ser- \ combe. He was lying- back in his chair, and had his glass to his nose. ■■ A strange confusion of liking and distaste assailed me. j 'You would betray your associates,' l I said, drily. ' 'Pardon me,' said (he Captain,' we | are not here to pass criticisms on \ morals. And if it comes to that, what j are we all? I see no pin prick be- j tween us. I do not invite your con- , elusions on my conduct; I have the i honour to" make you a proposal.' \

The rascal leaned back in his chair | and watched me with a curious air of J satisfaction. Indeed, his complacency j was well grounded, and I could not but admit to myself that he was making- me a handsome offer. His distrust or his fear of Hood was stronger than his greed, and it was to that we owed this unexpected intercession, when Fate had turned clean against us. Here was I, a prisoner, and with no possibility of escape; the treasure lay at the mercy of these vagabonds, and even at this moment the pieces might be slipping through Hood's loving fingers. Assuredly I should be a fool, I thought, to refuse Sercombe's compromise. He must certainly have made the proposal in good faith, for all I was invited to do was to surrender the key, a key which could be no possible xise to him, now that .the subterraneous entrance to the dungeon had been discovered. I withdrew it from my pocket. He nodded confidentially 'That is all I ask,' he said. 'And I?' I queried. 'You shall be at liberty at the earliest opportunity I can find,' he .returned. 'Observe, Mr Greatorex, that I- am taking a great risk. I am depending upon your word.' 'If I give it,' I replied, 'you may depend upon it.' 'Y Te.s, yes,' said the Captain, 'I know that . I run a risk, and you have yet to learn how great a risk. Unless this be carefully managed, there will be fighting, and bloody fighting, Mr Greatorex." We have only been skirmishing so far.' 'Y rou will warn my companions,' I asked.

'I will see that they pay a visit to their prisoner,' said he, 'and I reckon they will want little warning after that.'

'Y rou may take the key,' said I, after | a- pause. But at that very moment a slight sound as of soft feet upon the creaking stairway reached us. Sercombe 'whitened visibly, and looked uneasily at the door. There was a moment's silence* between us and then he spoke. 'It is better that I should-leave you now,' he said, hurriedly. 'We can settle this to-morrow morning,' and showing clear signs of discomposure, he left the barn. As for me, I sat with the key in my hand considering. I thought I could put a name on the owner of those steps. (To be Continued.)