Chapter 14 of Dead Men Tell No Tales by E.W. Hornung Chapter 14. IN THE GARDEN It so happened that I met nobody at all, but I must confess that my luck was better than my management. As I came upon the back, a new sound reached me with the swirl. It was the jingle of bit and brittle, the beat of hooves came after, and I had barely time to fling myself flat, when two horsemen emerged from the plantation, riding straight towards me in the moonlight. If they continued on that course, they could not fail to see me as they passed along the opposite bank. However, to my unspeakable relief, they were scarce clear of the trees, when they turned their horses' heads, rode them through the water a good seventy yards from where I lay, and so away at a counter across, country toward the road. On my hands and knees, I had a good look at them as they bobbed up and down under the moon, and my fears subsided in astonished curiosity. For I have already boasted of my eyesight, and I could have sworn that neither Retri nor any one of his guests was of the horsemen, yet the back and shoulders of one of these seemed somehow familiar to me. Not that I wasted any moments over the coincidence, for I had other things to think about as I ran on to the whole. I found the rear of the building in darkness and relieved from within. On the other hand, the climbing moon beat so full upon the garden wall, it was as though a lantern pinned me as I crept beneath it. In passing, I thought I might as well try the gate, but ever was right, it was locked, and that made me half inclined to distrust my eyes in the matter of the two horsemen, for whence could they have come, if not from the whole? In any case, I was well rid of them. I now followed the wall some little distance, and then, to see over it, walked backwards until I was all but in the back, and there, sure enough, shone my darling scandal close as close against the diamond paints of her narrow lofty window. It brought those ready tears back to my foolish-figured eyes. But for sentiment there was no time, and every other emotion was either futile or premature. So I mustered my full heart, I steeled my wretched nerves, and brazed my limp muscles for the task that lay before them. I had a garden wall to scale, nearly twice my own height, and without notch or cranny in the ancient solid masonry. I stood against it on my toes, and I touched it with my fingertips as high up as possible. Some four feet severed them from the coping that left only half a sky above my upturned eyes. I do not know whether I have made it plain that the house was not surrounded by four walls, but nearly filled a breach in one of the four, which nipped it as it were at either end. The back entrance was approachable enough, but barred or watched, I might be very sure. It is ever the vulnerable points which are most securely guarded, and it was my one comfort that the difficult way must also be the safe way, if only the difficulty could be overcome. How to overcome it was the problem. I followed the wall right round to the point at which it abuted on the tower that immured my love. The highs never varied, nor could my hands or eyes discover a single foothold, ledge, or other means of mounting to the top. Yet my hot head was full of ideas, and I wasted some minutes in trying to lift from its hinges a solid, thick barred outlying gate, that my weak arms could hardly stir. More time went in pulling branches from the oak trees about the back, where the ladder ran nearest to the moonlit wall. I had an insane dream of throwing a long-forged branch over the coping, and so swarming up, hand over hand. But even to me the impracticability of this plan came home at last, and there I stood in a breathless leather, much time and strength thrown away together, and the candle burning down for nothing in that little lofty window, and the running water swirling noisily over its stones at my back. This was the only sound. The wind had died away, the moonlit wally lay as still as the dread old house in its midst, but for the splash and gurgle of the back. I fancied this grow louder as I paused and listened in my helplessness. All at once was it the tongue of nature telling me the way, or common gumption returning at the eleventh hour. I ran down to the water's edge, and could have shouted for joy. Great stones lay in equal profusion on bed and banks. I lifted one of the heaviest in both hands. I staggered with it to the wall. I came back for another. For some twenty minutes I was so employed, my ultimate reward a fine heap of boaters against the wall. Then I began to build, then mounted my pile, glowing the wall to keep my balance. My fingers were still many inches from the coping. I jumped down and gave another ten minutes to the backbreaking work of carrying more boaters from the water to the wall. Then I widened my cairn below so that I could stand firmly before springing upon the pinnacle, with which I completed it. I knew well that this would collapse under me if I allowed my weight to rest more than an instant upon it. And so at last it did. But my fingers had clutched the coping in time, had grabbed it, even as the insecure pyramid crumbled and left me dangling. Instantly exerting what muscle I had left and the occasion gave me, I succeeded in pulling myself up until my chin was on a level with my hands, when I flung an arm over and caught the inner coping. The other arm followed, then a leg, and at last I sat astride the wall, panting and palpitating and hardly able to credit my own achievement. One great difficulty had been my huge revolver. I had been terribly frightened it might go off and had finally used my cravat to slink it at the back of my neck. It had shifted a little, and I was working it round again, preparatory to my drop, when I saw the light suddenly taken from the window in the tower, and the kerchief waving for one instant in its place. So she had been waiting and watching for me all these hours. I dropped into the garden in a very ecstasy of grief and rapture, to think that I had been so long in coming to my love, but that I had come at last. And I picked myself up in a very frenzy of fear lest, after all, I should fail to spirit her from this horrible place. Doubly desolate it looked in the rays of that bright October moon. Skocking in the shadow of the wall which had so long baffled me, I looked across a sharp border of shape upon a chaos, the more striking for its lindering trim design. The long, straight paths were barnacled with weeds, the dense, fine hedges, once prim and angular, had flattened out of all shape or form, and on the velvet sword of other days you might have waded, waist high in rotten hay. Toward the garden end the shrunk jungle merged into a war-swirl wilderness of rhododendrons, the tallest I have ever seen. On all this the white moon smiled, and the grim house glowed, to the eternal swirl and rattle of the back beyond its walls. Long enough I stood where I had dropped, listening with all my being for some other sound. But at last the great stuttered door creaked and shivered on its ancient hinges, and I heard voices arguing in the Portuguese tongue. It was poor Eva, heedling that black rascal Joseph. I saw her in the lighted porch, the nacre I saw also, shrugging and gesticulating for all the world like his hateful master, yet giving in I felt certain, though I could not understand a word that reached me. And indeed my little mistress very soon sailed calmly out, followed by final warnings and expostulations hurled from the step, for the black stood watching her as she came steadily my way, now raising her head to sniff the air, now stooping to plug up a weed, the very picture of a prisoner, seeking the open air for its own sake solely. I had a keen eye apiece for them, as I covered closer to the wall, revolver in hand. But ere my love was very near me, for she would stand long moments gazing ever so innocently at the moon. Her jailer had held a bottle to the light, and had beaten a retreat so sudden and so hasty, that I expected him back every moment, and so dars not stir. Eva saw me, however, and contrived to tell me so without interrupting the air that she was humming as she walked. Follow me, she sang, only keep as you are, keep as you are, close to the wall, close to the wall. And on she strolled to her own tune, and came abreast of me without turning her head. So I crept in the shadow, my ugly weapon tucked out of sight, and she sound turned in the shine, until we came to the end of the garden, where the paths turned at right angles, running behind the road-attentions. Once in their shelter, she halted and beckoned me, and next instant I had her hands in mine. At last was all that I could say for many a moment, as I stood there gazing into her dear eyes, no hero in my heroic hour, but the bigger, lovesick fool than ever. But quick, quick, quick, I added, as she brought me to my senses by withdrawing her hands. We've no time to lose. And I looked wildly from wall to wall, only to find them as barren and inaccessible on this side as on the other. We have more time than you think, wherever's first words, we can do dancing for half an hour. Why not? I'll tell you in a minute, how did you manage to get over? I brought boulders from the back and piled them up till I could reach the top. I thought her eyes glistened. What patience! she cried softly. We must find a simpler way of getting out, and I think I have. Save all the gun, you know, but Joseph. All three? The captain has been gone all day. Then the other two must have been my horsemen, very probably in some disguise, and my head swam with the thought of the risks that I had run at the very moment when I sought myself safest. Well, I would have finished them both, but I did not say so to Eva. I did not mention the incident. I was so fearful of destroying her confidence in me. Apologizing, therefore, for my interruption, without explaining it, I begged her to let me hear her plan. It was simple enough. There was no fear of the others returning before midnight. The chances were that they would be very much later, and now it was barely eleven, and Eva had promised not to stay out about half an hour. When it was up, Joseph would come and call her. It is horrid to have to be so cunning, cried little Eva, with an angry shudder, but it's no use thinking of that. She was quick enough to add, when you have such dreadful men to deal with, such fiends. And I have had all day to prepare, and have suffered till I am so desperate I would rather die to night than spend another in that house. Now, let me finish. Joseph would come round here to look for me, but you and I will be hiding in the other side of those rudder dendrons. And when we hear him, here, we'll make a dash for it across the long grass. Once let us get to the door shut and locked in his face, and he'll be in the trap. It will take him some time to break it, time enough to give us a start. What's more, when he finds a gun, he'll do what they all used to do in any doubt. What's that?   Once we get away, I shall be surprised if it's found out till morning, concluded Eva, without a word as to what I was to do with her. Neither indeed had I myself given that question a moment's consideration. Then let's make a dash for it now, was all I said or thought. No, they can't come yet, and Joseph is strong and brutal, and I have heard how ill you are, that you should have come to me not with standing. And she broke off with her little hands lying so gratefully in my shoulders, that I know not how I refrained from catching her, then and there to my heart. Instead I laughed and said that my illness was a pure and deliberate sharp, at my presence there its direct result. And such was the virtue in my beloved's voice, the magic of her eyes, the healing of her touch, that I was scarce conscious of deceit. But felt a whole man once more, as we two stood together in the moonlight. In a trance I stood there gazing in her brave young eyes. In a trance I suffered her to lead me by the hand through the rank, dense roto-dendrons. And still entrenched I crouched by her side near the further side, with only unkempt cross-blood, and a weedy path between us and that puncturous door, wide open still, and replaced by a section of the lighted hail within. On this we fixed our attention, with mingled dread and impatience, those contending elements of suspense. But the black was slow to reappear, and my eyes stole home to my sweet girl's face, with its glory of moonlight curls, and the eager resolute and battered look that put the world back two wall months, and ever-denison upon the Lady German's book, in the ship's last hours. But it was not her look alone, she had on her cloak, as the night before, but with me. God bless her, she found no need to clasp herself in its folds, and underneath she wore the very dress in which she had sung at our last concert, and being rescued in the gig. It looked as though she had worn it ever since. The roses were crushed and soiled, the tall old torn, and tarnished some strings of beads that had been gold. A totter of gently lace hung by a thread. It is another of the relics that I have unearthed in the writing of this narrative. I thought, men never notice dresses, my love said suddenly, a pleased light in her eyes, I thought, in spite of all. Do you really remember it? I remember every one of them, I said indignantly, and so I did. You will wonder why I wear it, said Eva quickly. It was the first that came that terrible night, they have given me many since, but I won't wear one of them, not one. How her eyes flashed, I forgot all about your say. I suppose you know why they hadn't room for you in the jig, she went on. No, I don't know, and I don't care. Say her dream for you, said I, that's all I care about. And to think she could not see I loved her. But do you mean to say you don't know that these murderers set fire to the ship? No, yes, I heard you say it so last night. And you don't want to know what for? Out of politeness I protested that I did, but as I live, all I wanted to know just then was whether my love loved me, whether she ever could, whether such happiness was possible under heaven. You remember all that mystery about the cargo? She continued, eagerly, her pretty lips so divinely parted. It turned out to be gunpowder, said I, still thinking only of her. No, gold. But it was gunpowder, I insisted, for it was my incorrigible passion for accuracy, which had led up to half our arguments on the voyage.  It was also gold, twelve thousand ounces from the Dickings, that was the real mystery. Do you mean to say you never guessed? No, by Jove, I didn't, said I. She had diverted my interest at last. I asked her if she had known on board. Not until the last moment. I found out during the fire. Do you remember when we said goodbye? I was nearly telling you then. Did I remember? The very letter of that last interview was cut deep into my heart. Not a sleepless night had I passed without rehearsing. It word for word and look for look. And sometimes when sorrow had spent in self and the heart could bleed no more, when grief had given place to vainer speculation, and I had cajoled my wakeful brains for the meaning of the new unsupple horror which I had read in my darling's eyes at the last. Now I understood, and the one explanation brought such a tribe in its train, that even the perilous ecstasy of the present moment was temporarily forgotten in the horrible past. Now I know why they wouldn't have me in the gig, I cried softly. She carried four heavy men's weight in gold. When on earth did they get it aboard? In provision boxes at the last, but they had been filling the boxes for weeks. Why I saw them doing it, I cried. But what about the gig, who picked you up? She was watching the open door once more, and she answered with notable indifference. Mr. Retray. So, that's the connection, said I, and I think it's very simplicity what surprised me most. Yes, he was waiting for us at Ascension. Then it was all arranged, every detail. And this young bloodguard is as bad as any of them. Worse, said she, with bitter brevity. Nor had I ever seen her look so hard but once, and that was the night before in the old Justice Hall, when she told Retray her opinion of him to his face. She had now the same angry flush, the same sad mouth, and scornful voice, and I took it finally into my head that she was unjust to the poor devil, villain though he was. With all his villainy, I declined to believe him as bad as the others. I told her so in as many words. And in a moment we were arguing as though we were back on the loyalty German with nothing else to do. You may admire whole-sale murderers and thieves, said Eva. I do not. Nor I. My point is simply that this one is not as bad as the rest. I believe he was really glad for my sake when he discovered that I knew nothing of the villainy. Come now, has he ever offered you any personal violence? Me? Mr. Retray? I should hope not, indeed. Has he never saved you from any? I don't know. Then I do. When you left him last night there was some talk of bringing you back by force. You can guess who suggested that, and who set his face against it and got his way. You would think the better of Retray had you heard what passed. Should I? She asked half eagerly, as she looked quickly round at me, and suddenly I saw her eyes fill. Oh, why will you speak about him? She burst out. Why must you defend him, unless it's to go against me, as you always did and always will?  I want you to take me away from these wretches, and all you do is to defend them. Not all, said I, clasping her hand warmly in mine. Not all, not all. I will take you away from them. Never fear. In another hour God grant you may be out of their reach for ever. But where are we to go? She whispered widely. What are you to do with me? All my friends think me dead, and if they knew I was not it would all come out. So it shall, said I, the sooner the better. If I had had my way it would all be out already.  This monstrous conspiracy, this cold-blooded massacre, and I crouched aghast. Yes, it could do no good, and at any rate, unless you promise I remain where I am. In their hands? Decidedly, to warn them in time, leave them I would but betray them never. What could I say? What choice had I in the face of an alternative, so headstrong and so unreasonable? To rescue Eva from these miscreants, I would have let every malefactor in the country go unscatched, yet the condition was a hard one, and, as I hesitated, my love went on her knees to me, there in the moonlight among the rotentrends.  They may deserve it richly, but I would rather be torn in little pieces than have them hanged. It's too good for most of them. Promise. To hold my tongue about them all? Yes, promise. Promise. When a hundred lives were sacrificed. Promise. I can't, I said, it's wrong. Then goodbye, she cried, starting to her feet. No, no, and I caught her hand. Well, then? I promise. End of chapter 14. Chapter 15 Of Dead Men Tell No Tales This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Christine Dead Men Tell No Tales By E. W. Hornung Chapter 15 First Blood So I bound myself to a guilty secrecy for Eva's sake to save her from these vretches, or if you will, to win her for myself. Nor did it strike me as very strange, after a moment's reflection, that she should intercede thus earnestly for a band headed by her own mother's widower, prime scoundrel of them all, though she knew him to be. The only surprise was that she had not interceded in his name, that I should have forgotten, and she should have allowed me to forget the very existence of so indisputable acclaim upon her loyalty. This, however, made it a little difficult to understand the hysterical gratitude with which my unwilling promise was received. Poor darling, she was beside herself with sheer relief. She wept as I had never seen her weep before. She seized and even kissed my hands, as one who neither knew nor cared what she did, surprising me so much by her emotion that this expression of it passed and heeded. I was the best friend she had ever had. I was her one good friend in all the world. She would trust herself to me, and if I would but take her to the convent, where she had been brought up, she would pray for me there until her does, but that would not be very long. All of which confused me utterly. It seemed an inexplicable breakdown in one who had shown such nerve and courage hitherto, and so herty elosing for that damnable sentos. So I've completely had her presence of mind forsaken her, that she looked no longer where she had been gazing hitherto. And thus it was that neither of us saw Joseph, until we heard him calling, Senora Evach, Senora Evach, with some rapid sentences in Portuguese. Now is our time, I whispered, crouching lower and clasping a small hand, gun suddenly cold. Think of nothing now, but getting out of this. I'll keep my word once we are out, and here's the toys that's going to get us out. And I produced my Dian and Adams with no small relish. A little trustful pressure was my answer and my reward. Meanwhile the black was singing out lustily in evident suspicion on alarm. He says they are coming back, whispered Eva, but that's impossible. Why? Because if they were, he couldn't see them, and if he heard them, he would be frightened of they are hearing him, but here he comes. A shuffling quick step on the path, a running grumble of unmistakable threats, a shambling moonlit figure, seen in glimpses through the leaves, very near us for an instant, then hidden by the shrubbery, as he passed within a few yards of our hiding place. A diminuendo of the shuffling steps, then a cursing, frightened savage at one end of the rhododendrons, and we too stealing out at the other, hand in hand, and bent quite double into the long neglected grass. Can you run for it? I whispered. Yes, but not too fast for fear we trip. Come on then. The lighted open doorway grew greater at every stride. He hasn't seen us yet. No, I hear him threatening me still. Now he has, though. A wild hoop proclaimed the fact, and a pride we tore at top speed through the last ten yards of grass, while the black rushed down one of the side paths, gaining audibly on us over the better ground. But our start had saved us, and we flew up the steps as his feet ceased to clutter on the path. He had plunged into the grass to cut off the corner. Thank God! cried Eva.  The great door swung home with a mighty clutter, and Eva seized the key in both hands. I can't turn it. To lose a second was to take a life, and unconsciously I was sticking at that, perhaps from no higher instinct than distrust of my aim. Our pursuer, however, was on the steps when I clapped my free hand on top of those little white straining ones, and by a timely effort bent both them and the key round together. The ward shut home as Joseph hurled himself against the door. Eva bolted it. But the third was not repeated, and I gathered myself together between the door and the nearest window, for by now I saw there was but one thing for us. The nigger must be disabled, if I could manage such a nice tea, if not that I will take his own. Well, I was not one tick too soon for him. My pistol was not cocked before the crash came that I was counting on, and was it a shower of small glass driving across the six-foot sill and tinkling of the flags.  I had to wait till I saw his legs when I promptly shattered one of them at disgracefully short range. The report was as deafening as one upon the stage.  I searched him without a qualm, but threads of annihilation instead, and found him unarmed, but for that very knife which Ratry had induced me to hand over to him in town. I had a grim satisfaction in depriving him of this, and that small compunction in turning my back upon his pain. Come, I said to poor Eva, don't pity him, though I dare say he is the most pitiful of the lot. Show me the way through, and I'll follow with this lamp. One was burning on the old oak table. I carried it along a narrow passage, through a great low kitchen, where I bummed my head against the black oak beams, and I held it on high at a door, almost as massive as the one which we had succeeded in shutting in the nigger's face. I was afraid of it, cried Eva, with a sudden sob. What is it? Safe taken away the key. Yes, the key in air came through an empty keyhole, and my lamp, held close, not only showed that the door was locked, but that the lock was one with which an unskilled hand might tamper for hours without result. I dealt it a hurty kick by way of a test. The heavy tamper did not budge. There was no play at all at either lock or hinges, nor did I see how I could spend one of my four remaining bullets upon the former, with any chance of a return. Is this the only other door? Then it must be a window. All the back ones are barred, securely. Yes. Then we have no choice in the matter. And I led the way back to the hall where the poor black devil lay, flubbering in his blood. In the kitchen I found the bottle of wine, Retri's best port, that they were trying to make her take for her health, with which Eva had bribed him, and I gave it to him before laying hands on a couple of chairs. What are you going to do? Go out the way we came. But the wall. Pile up these chairs, and as many more as we may need if we can't open the gate. But Eva was not paying attention any longer, either to me or to Jose. His white teeth were showing in a grin for all his pain. Her eyes were fixed in horror on the floor. They've come back, she gasped. The underground passage. Hark! Hark! There was a muffled rush of feet beneath our own, then a dull but very distinguishable clutter on some invisible stair. Underground passage, I exclaimed, and in my sheer disgust I forgot what was due to my darling. Why on earth didn't you tell me of it before? There was so much to tell you, it leads to the sea. Oh, what shall we do? You must hide upstairs, anywhere. Try it, Eva, wildly. Leave them to me, leave them to me. I like that, said I, and I did, but I detested myself for the tears my words had drawn, and I prepared to die for them.  It would serve me right, but we'll see about it. And I stood with my revolver very ready in my right hand, while with the other I could pour Eva to my side. Even as the door flew open and rhetoric himself burst upon us, a lantern in his hand, and the perspiration shining on his handsome face in its light. I can see him now as he stood dumbfounded on the threshold of the hall, and yet at the time my eyes bet past him into the room beyond. It was the one I have described as being lined with books. There was a long rent in this lining, where the books had opened with the door, through which Captain Harris, Joachim Santos, and Jane Presswhite followed Ratri in quick succession. The men all with lanterns, the women scarled and disheveled, even for her. It was for hours the squire's shoulders I saw their faces. He kept them from passing him in the doorway, by a free use of his elbows. And when I looked at him again, his black eyes were blazing from a face white with passion, and they were fixed upon me.  Don't ask idle questions, was my reply to that. So you were shaming today. I was taking a leaf out of your book. You'll gain nothing by being clever, sneered the squire, taking a threatening step forward. For at the last moment I had tucked my revolver behind my back, not only for the pleasure, but for the obvious advantage of getting them all in front of me and off their guard. I had no idea that such eyes as Ratri's could be so fierce. They were dancing from me to my companion, whom their glitter frightened into an attempt to disengage herself from me, but my arm only tightened about her drooping figure. I shall gain no more than I expect, said I carelessly, and I know what to expect from brave gentlemen like you. It will be better than your own fate at all events, any things better than being taken hence to the place of execution, and hanged by the neck until you're dead, all three of you in a row, and your body is buried with the prisons of the prison. The very thing for him, murdered Santos, the very same. But I am so soft-hearted, I went insanely on, that I should be sorry to see that happen to such fine fellows as you are. Come out of that, you little frown behind there. It was my betrayers choking in the room. Come out and line up with the rest. No, I am not going to see you fellows dance on nothing. I have another kind of ball a piece for you, and one between them for the brace whites. Well, I suppose I always had a nasty tongue in me, and rather enjoyed making play with it on provocation. But if so, I met with my deserts at night. For the nicker of the Lady German lay all but hid behind Eva and me. If they saw him at all, they may have sought him drunk. But as for myself, I could fairly forget in his existence, until the very moment came for showing my revolver. When it was twisted out of my grasp instead, and a ball sank under my arm as the brute fell back exhausted and the weapon clattered beside him. Before I could stoop for it, there was a dead weight on my left arm, and square retry was over the table at the bound, with his arms jostling mine beneath Eva Denison's senseless form. Leave her to me, he cried fiercely, you fool, he added in a lover-key. Do you think I'd let any harm come to her? I looked him in the bright and honest eyes that had made me trust him in the beginning, and I did not utterly distrust him yet. Rather was the girl on my side as I drew back and watched Retre lift the young girl tenderly, and slowly carry her to the door by which she had entered and left the whole just twenty-four hours before. I could not take my eyes off them, till they were gone. And when I looked for my revolver, it also had disappeared. Just say had not got it, he lay insensible. Santos was whispering to Harris, neither of them seemed armed. I made sure that Retre had picked it up and carried it off with Eva. I looked wildly for some other weapon. Two unarmed men and a woman were all I had to deal with, for Braceway had long since vanished. Could I but knock the worthless life out of the men I should have put the square and his servants to deal with, and in that quarter I still had my hopes of a bloodless battle and a treaty of war. A log fire was smoldering in the open gate. I darted to it and had a heavy, health-burned brand whirling round my head next instant. Harris was the first within my reach. He came gamely at me with his fist. I sprang upon him and struck him to the ground with one blow, the sparks flying far and wide as my smoking brand met the seamen's skull. Santos was upon me next instant, and him, by sheer luck, I managed to serve the same. But I doubt whether either man was stunned, and I was standing ready for them to rise. When I felt myself seized round the neck from behind, and a mass of fluffy hair tickling my cheek, while a shrill voice set a ballistic scream for the squire. I have said that the woman Bracewayed was of a sinister strength, but I had little dreamed how strong she really was. First it was her arms that wwn themselves about my neck, long sinews and supple as the tentacles of some vile monster. Then, as I struggled, her thumbs were on my windpipe like pads of steel. Tighter she pressed and tighter yet. My eyeballs started, my tongue lulled. I heard my brand drop, and through a mist I saw it picked up instantly. It crushed upon my skull as I still struggled vainly. Again and again it came down mercilessly in the same place, until I felt as though a sponge of warm water had been squeezed over my head, and so a hundred wizard masks grinning sudden exaltation into mine.  CHAPTER XVI This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. A deadlock. It must have been midnight when I opened my eyes. A clock was striking as though it never would stop. My mouth seemed fire, a pungent flavour filled my nostrils. The wine-glass felt cold against my teeth. That's more like it, muttered a voice close to my ear. An arm was withdrawn from under my shoulders. I was allowed to sink back upon some pillows, and now I saw where I was. The room was large and poorly lighted. I lain my clothes on an old four-poster bed, and my enemies were standing over me in a group. I hope you are satisfied, sneered Joaquín Santos, with the flourish of his eternal cigarette. I am. You don't do murder in my house, wherever else you may do it. And now better lead him into nearest police station. Or will you go and tell the police yourself? asked the Portuguese, in the same tone of mordant irony. Aye-aye, growled Harris. That's the next thing. No, said Ratré. The next thing's for you two to leave him to me. We'll see you damned, cried the captain. No, no, my friend, said Santos, with a shrug. Let him have his way. He is as fond of his skin as you are of yours. He'll come round to our way in the end. I know this, senor Cole. It is necessary for him to die. But it is not necessary this moment. Let us leave them together for a little bit. That's all I asked, said Ratré. You won't ask it twice, rejoined Santos shrugging. I know this, senor Cole. There is only one way of dealing with a man like that. Besides, he has half killed my good Jose. It is necessary for him to die. I agree with the senor, said Harris, whose forehead was starred with sticking plaster. It's him or us? And we're all again you, squire. You'll have to give in first or last. And the pair were gone. Their steps grew faint in the corridor. When we could no longer hear them, Ratré closed the door and quietly locked it. Then he turned to me stern enough and pointed to the door with a hand that shook. You see how it is? Perfectly.  Of course they do. It's your own fault you've run yourself into this. I did my best to keep you out of it. But in you come and spill first blood. I don't regret it, said I. Oh, you're damned mule enough not to regret anything, cried Ratré. I see the sort you are. Yet but for me I tell you plainly you'd be a dead man now. I can't think why you interfered. You've heard the reason. I won't have murdered an here if I can prevent it. So far I have. It rests with you whether I can go on preventing it or not. With me, does it? He sat down on the side of the bed. He threw an arm to the far side of my body and leaned over me with savage eyes now staring into mine. Now resting with a momentary gleam of pride upon my battered head. I put up my hand. It lit upon a very turban of bandages, and at that I tried to take his hand in mine. He shook it off, and his eyes met mine more fiercely than before. See here, Cole, said he. I don't know how the devil you got wind of anything to start with, and I don't care. What I do know is that you've made bad enough a long chalk worse for all concerned. And you'll have to get yourself out of the mess you've got yourself into, and there's only one way. I suppose Miss Denison has really told you everything this time. What's that? Oh, yes, she's all right again, no thanks to you. Now let's hear what she did tell you. It'll save time. I repeat at their hurried disclosures made by Eva in the road of dendrons. He nodded grimly, in confirmation of their truth. Yes, those are the rough facts. The game was started in Melbourne. My part was to wait at Ascension till the lady German signalled herself. Follow her in a schooner we had bought, and pick up the gig with a gold aboard.  God knows I was never a consenting party to that, though I know I'm responsible. I'm in this thing as deep as any of them. I've shared the risks, and I'm going to share the plunder, and I'll swing with the others if it ever comes to that.  So you were fool enough to tell us, and you step in and find out everything. What's to be done? You know what the others want to do. I say it rests with you whether they do it or not. There's only one other way of meeting the case. What's that? Be in it yourself, man. Come in with me and split my share. I could have burst out laughing in his handsome, eager face. The good faith of this absurd proposal was so incongruously apparent, and so obviously genuine was my young villain's anxiety for my consent. Become accessory after the fact in such a crime. Sell my silence for a price. I concealed my feelings with equal difficulty and resolution. I had plans of my own already, but I must gain time to think them over. Nor could I afford to quarrel with Ratre, meanwhile. What was the haul, I asked him, with the air of one not unprepared to consider the matter. Twelve thousand ounces. Forty-eight thousand pounds about? Yes, yes. And your share? Fourteen thousand pounds. Santos takes twenty, and Harris and I fourteen thousand each. And you offer me seven? I do, I do. He was becoming more and more eager and excited. His eyes were brighter than I had ever seen them, but slightly bloodshot and a coppery flesh tinged his clear sunburned skin. I fancied he had been making somewhat free with the brandy, but loss of blood had cooled my brain, and perhaps natural perversity had also a share in the composure which grew upon me as it deserted my companion. Why make such a sacrifice, said I, smiling? Why not let them do as they like? I've told you why. I'm not so bad as all that.  Not a life should have been lost if I had had my way. Besides, I've done all the dirty work by you. Cole, there's been no help for it. We didn't know whether you knew or not. It made all the difference to us, and somebody had to dog you and find out how much you did know. I was the only one who could possibly do it. God knows how I detested the job. I'm more ashamed of it than of worse things. I had to worm myself into your friendship, and, by Jove, you made me think you did know, but hadn't let it out, and might any day. So then I got you up here. Where you would be in our power, if it was so, surely you can see every move. But this much I'll swear I had nothing to do with Jose breaking into your room at the hotel.   I know that, I said. I also know who broke into my room, and I'm glad I'm even with one of you. It's done you no good, said Rat Ray. Their first thought was to put you out of the way, and it's more than ever their last. You see the sort of men you've got to deal with, and they're three to one, counting the nigger, but if you go in with me, they'll only be three to two. He was manifestly anxious to save me in this fashion, and I suppose that most sensible men in my dilemma would at least have nursed or played upon goodwill so lucky and so enduring. But there was always a twist in me that made me love in my youth to take the unexpected course, and it amused me the more to lead my young friend on. And where have you got this gold, I asked him, in a low voice so promising that he instantly lowered his, and his eyes twinkled notily into mine. In the old tunnel that runs from this place nearly to the sea, said he, we Rat Ray's have always been a pretty warm lot-call, and in the old days we were the most festive smugglers on the coast. This tunnel's a relic of them, although it was only a tradition till I came into the property. I swore I'd find it, and when I'd done so, I made a new connection which you shall see. I'm rather proud of it, and I won't say I haven't used the old drain once or twice after the fashion of my rude forefathers. But never was it such a godsend as it's been this time. By Jove, it would be a sin if you didn't come in with us call, but for the lives these black guards lost the things gone splendidly. It would be a sin if you went and lost yours, whereas if you come in, the two of us would be able to shake off these devils. We should be too strong for them. Seven thousand pounds, I murmured, twenty-eight thousand between us. Yes, and nearly all of it down below at this end of the tunnel, and the rest where we dropped it when we heard you were trying to bolt. We'd got it all at the other end, ready to pop aboard the schooner that's lying there still if you turned out to know anything and to have told what you knew to the police. There was always the possibility of that, you see. We simply dare and show our noses at the bank until we knew how much you knew, and what you'd done and were thinking of doing. As it is, we can take them the whole twelve thousand ounces, or rather I can. As soon as I like and broad daylight, I'm a lucky digger. It's all right. Everybody knows I've been out there. He jumped up all excitement and was at the door next instant. Stop, I cried. Where are you going? Downstairs to tell them. Tell them what? That you're going in with me, and it's all right. And do you really think I am? He had unlocked the door. After a pause I heard him lock it again. But I did not see his face until he returned to the bedside. And then it frightened me. It was distorted and discoloured with rage and chagrin. You've been making a fool of me, he cried fiercely. No, I have been considering the matter, Rat Ray. And you won't accept my offer. Of course I won't. I didn't say I'd been considering it. He stood over me with clenched fists and staring eyes.  Don't you see that this is the only way? Do you suppose a murder more or less makes any difference to that lock downstairs?  I won't hold it for money, at all events, said I. But that's what I was coming to. Very well, he interrupted. You shall only pretend to touch it. And all I want is to convince the others that it's against your interest to split. Self-interest is the one motive they understand. Your bare word would be good enough for me. Suppose I won't give my bare word, said I, in a gentle manner which I did not mean to be as irritating as it doubtless was. Yet his proposals and his assumptions were between them making me irritable in my turn.  You know I'm against the others, and you know what they want. Yet you do your best to put me on their side.  For the love of God be sensible.  All right, I said. I'll give you my word, my sacred promise. Retray on one condition. What's that? That you let me take Miss Denison away from you for good and all. His face was transformed with fury, honest passion faded from it, and left it bloodless, deadly, sinister. Away from me, said Retray, through his teeth, from the lot of you. I remember.  You were in love with her. You, you. That was nothing to do with it, said I. Shaking the bed with my anger and my agitation. I should hope not you indeed to look at her. Well, I cried. She may never love me, but at least she doesn't loathe me as she loathes you. Yes, the sight of you, and your very name. So I drew blood for blood, and for an instant I thought he was going to make an end of it by incontinently killing me himself. His fists flew out. Had I been a whole man on my legs, he took care to tell me what he would have done, and to drive it home with a mouthful of the oaths which were conspicuously absent from his ordinary talk.   You do your best to make me one, he answered bitterly. I try to stand by you at all costs.   I know I gave you provocation, and I know I'm rightly served. Why do you suppose I went into this accursed thing at all? Not for the gold, my boy, but for the girl! She won't look at me. And it serves me right. But I say, do you really think she loathes me, Cole? I don't see how she can think much better of you than of the crime in which you've had a hand, was my reply, made, however, with as much kindness as I could summon. The word I used was spoken in anger, said I.  In the room I fancied, where he once had lain as a pretty innocent child. Cole, said he, I'd give twice my share of the damn stuff never to have put my hand to the plow, but go back I can't, so there's an end of it. I don't see it, said I. You say you didn't go in for the gold. Then give me your share, the others I'll jump at it, and Eva won't think the worst of you at any rate. But what's to become of her if I drop out? You and I will take her to her friends, or wherever she wants to go. No, no, he cried. I never yet deserted my pals, and I'm not going to begin. I don't believe you ever before had such pals to desert, was my reply to that. Quite a part for my own share in the matter.  Get out of it, man. Get out of it while you can. Now's your time. Get out of it for God's sake. I sat up in my eagerness. I saw him waver, and for one instant a great hope fluttered in my heart. But his teeth met, his face darkened. He shook his head. That's the kind of rot that isn't worth talking, and you ought to know it, he said, when I begin a thing I go through with it, though it lands me in hell as this one will. I can't help that. It's too late to go back.  I shook my head. Only on the one condition. You stick to that, he said so rapidly that the words ran into one, so fiercely that his decision was as plain to me as my own. I do, said I. I could only sigh when he made yet one more effort to persuade me in a distress, not less apparent than his resolution, and not less becoming in him. Consider, Cole, consider. I have already done so, Rattray. Murder is simply nothing to them. It is nothing to me, either. Human life is nothing. No, it must end one day. You won't give your word unconditionally. No, you know my condition. He ignored it with a blazing eye, his hand upon the door. You prefer to die, then, infinitely. Then die, you may, and be damned to you. This is the end of Chapter 16. Chapter 17 Of Dead Men Tell No Tales This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Susan Umpleby. Dead Men Tell No Tales by E. W. Hornan Chapter 17 Thieves Fall Out The door slammed. It was invisibly locked and the key taken out. I listened for the last of an angry stride. It never even began. But, after a pause, the door was unlocked again, and Retray re-entered. Without looking at me, he snatched the candle from the table on which it stood by the bedside, and carried it to a bureau at the opposite side of the room. There he stood a minute with his back turned, the candle I fancy on the floor. I saw him putting something in either jacket pocket. Then I heard a dull little stamp, as though he had shed some small Morocco case. Whatever it was, he tossed it carelessly back into the bureau, and next minute he was really gone, leaving the candle burning on the floor. I lay and heard his steps out of earshot, and they were angry enough now, nor had he given me a single glance. I listened until there was no more to be heard, and then in an instant I was off the bed and on my feet. I reeled a little, and my head gave me great pain, but greater still was my excitement. I caught up the candle, opened the unlocked bureau, and then the empty case which I found in the very front. My heart leapt. There was no mistaking the depressions in the case. It was a brace of tiny pistols that Retray had slipped into his jacket pockets. Mere toys they must have been in comparison with my dear Dean and Adams. That mattered nothing. I went no longer in dire terror of my life. Indeed, there was that in Retray which had left me feeling fairly safe, in spite of his last words to me, albeit I felt his fears on my behalf to be genuine enough. His taking these little pistols, of course, there were but three chambers left loaded in mine, confirmed my confidence in him. He would stick at nothing to defend me from the violence of his bloodthirsty accomplices. But it should not come to that. My legs were growing firmer under me. I was not going to lie there meekly without making at least an effort at self-deliverance. If it succeeded, the idea came to me in a flash, I would send Retray and Ultimatum from the nearest town, and either Eva should be set instantly and unconditionally free, or the whole matter be put unreservedly in the hands of the local police. There were two lattice windows, both in the same immensely thick wall. To my joy, I discovered that they overlooked the open premises at the back of the hall, with the oak plantation beyond. Nor was the distance to the ground very great. It was the work of a moment to tear the sheets from the bed, to tie the two ends together, and a third round the mullion by which the larger window was bisected. I had done this and had let down my sheets when a movement below turned my heart to ice. The night had clouded over. I could see nobody. So much the greater was my alarm. I withdrew from the window, leaving the sheets hanging, in the hope that they also might be invisible in the darkness. I put out the candle and returned to the window in great perplexity. Next moment I stood aghast between the devil and the deep sea. I still heard a something down below, but a worse sound came to drown it. An unseen hand was very quietly trying the door, which Retray had locked behind him. Diablo came to my horrified ears in a soft vindictive voice. I told you so, muttered another. The young swabs got the key. There was a pause in which it would seem that Joaquin Santos had his ear at the empty keyhole. I think he must be slipping. At last I heard him sigh. It was not necessary to awaken him in this world. It is a pity. One kick over the lock would do it, said Harris. Only the young swab will hear. Not, perhaps, while he is dancing attendance on the sin hora. Was it not good to send him to her? If he does hear, well, his own turn will come the quicker. That is all. But it would be better to take them one at a time. So, keek away, my friend, and I will give him no time to squill. While my would-be murderers were holding this whispered colloquy, I had stood half petrified by the open window, unwilling to slide down the sheets into the arms of an unseen enemy, though I had no idea which of them it could be. More hopeful of slipping past my butchers in the darkness, and so to Retray and poor Eva. But not the less eagerly looking for some hiding place in the room. The best that offered was a recess in the thick wall between the two windows, filled with hanging clothes, a narrow closet without a door, which would shelter me well enough, if not too curiously inspected. Here I hid myself in the end, after a moment of indecision which nearly cost me my life. The coats and trousers still shook in front of me when the door flew open at the first kick, and Santo stood a moment in the moonlight, looking for the bed. With a stride he reached it, and I saw the gleam of a knife from where I stood among the squire's clothes. It flashed over my bed and was still. He is not ear.  Meek light, my friend, and we will very soon see. Harris did so. Here's a candle, said Santos. Light it and watch the door. Pero maldicto, what have we here? I felt certain he had seen me, but the candle passed within a yard of my feet and was held on high at the open window. We are too late, said Santos. He's gone. Are you sure? Look at this sheet. Then the other swab knew of it, and will settle with him. Yes, yes, but not yet, my good friend, not yet. We want his assistance in getting the gold back to the sea. He will be glad enough to give it, now that his pet bird has flown. After that, by all means, you shall cut his throat, and I will put one of his dear friends' bullets in him for my own satisfaction. There was a quick step on the stairs in the corridor. I'd like to do it now, whispered Harris, no time like the present. Not yet, I tell you. And Retray was in the room, a silver-mounted pistol in each hand. The sight of these was a surprise to his treacherous confederates, as even I could see.  We thought he was too quiet, said Santos. You perceive the reason. And he waved from empty bed to open window, then held the candle close to the tied sheet, and shrugged expressively. You thought he was too quiet, echoed Retray with fierce scorn. You thought I was too blind, that's what you mean. To tell me that Miss Denison wished to see me, and Miss Denison that I wish to speak to her, as if we shouldn't find you out in about a minute. But a minute was better than nothing, eh? And you've made good use of your minute, have you? You've murdered him, and you pretend he's got out?  I've been ready for this all night. And he stood with his back to the window, his pistols raised, and his head carried proudly, happily, like a man whose self-respect was coming back to him after many days. Harris shrank before his fierce eyes and pointed barrels. The Portuguese, however, had merely given a characteristic shrug, and was now rolling the inevitable cigarette. Your common sense is almost as remarkable as your sense of justice, my friend, said he. You see us one, two, three minutes ago, and you see us now. You see the empty bed, the empty room, and you imagine that in one, two, three minutes we have killed a man, and disposed of his body. Truly, you are very wise and just, and very loyal also to your friends. You treat a dangerous enemy as though he were your twin brother. You let him escape. Let him, I repeat. And then you threaten to shoot those who, as it is, may pay for your carelessness with their lives? We have always been very loyal to you, Sint-Horaté. We have leased into your advice, and often taken it against our better judgment. We are here not because we think it wise, but because you wished it. Yet, at the first temptation you turn upon us. You point your pistols at your friends. I don't believe in your loyalty, rejoined Retray. I believe you would shoot me sooner than I would you. The only difference would be that I should be shot in the back. It is untrue, said Santos with immense emotion. I call the Saints to witness that never by thought or word have I been disloyal to you, and the blasphemous wretch actually crossed himself with a trembling skinny hand. I have leasing to you, though you are the younger man. I have given way to you and everything from the moment we were so foolish as to set foot on this accursed coast. That also was your doing, and it will be your fault if evil comes of it. Yet I have not complained. Here in your own house you have been the master, I the guest. So far from plotting against you, show me the man who has heard me breath one treacherous word behind your back. You will find it difficult, friend Retray. What do you say, Captain? Me! cried Harris, in a voice bursting with abuse. And what the Captain said may or may not be imagined, it cannot be set down. But the man who ought to have spoken, the man who had such a chance as few men have off the stage, who could have confounded these villains in a breath and saved the wretched Retray at once from them and from himself. That unheroic hero remained ennobly silent in his homely hiding place. And what is more, he would do the same again. The rogues had fallen out. Now was the time for honest men. They all thought I had escaped. Therefore they would give me a better chance than ever of still escaping. And I have already explained to what purpose I meant to use my first hours of liberty. That purpose I hold to have justified any ingratitude that I may seem now to have displayed towards the man who had undoubtedly stood between death and me. Was not Eva Denison of more value than many Retrays? And it was precisely in relation with this pure young girl that I most mistrusted the Squire. Obviously then, my first duty was to save Eva from Retray, not Retray from these traitors. Not that I pretend for a moment to have been the thing I never was. You are not so very grateful to the man who pulls you out of the mud when he has first of all pushed you in. Nor is it chivalry alone which spurs one to the rescue of a lovely lady for whom, after all, one would rather live than die. Thus I, in my corner, was thinking, I will say, of Eva first. But next I was thinking of myself, and Retray's blood beyond his own hot head. I hold, moreover, that I was perfectly right in all this. But if anything may vary wrong, a sufficient satisfaction is in store for them, for I was very swiftly punished. The captain's language was no worse in character than in effect. The bed was bloody from my wounded head, all tumbled from the haste with which I had quitted it, and only two suggestive of stillfowler play. Retray stopped the captain with a sudden flourish of one of his pistols, the silver mountains making lightning in the room. Then he called upon the pair of them to show him what they had done with me, and to my horror Santos invited him to search the room. The invitation was accepted, yet there I stood. It would have been better to step forward even then, yet I cowered among his clothes until his own hand fell upon my collar, and forth I was dragged to the plain amazement of all three. Santos was the first to find his voice. Another time you will perhaps think twice before you speak, friend Squire.  Trying to give you blackards the slip, said I. Then it was you who let down the sheet? Of course it was. All right. I'm done with you, said he. That settles it. I make you an offer. You won't accept it. I do my best.  But I'll be shot if you get another chance from me. Brandy and the wine-glass stood where Retray must have set them, on an oak stool beside the bed. As he spoke he crossed the room, filled the glass till the spirit dripped and drained it at a gulp. He was twitching and wincing still when he turned, walked up to Joaquin Santos, and pointed to where I stood with a fist that shook. You wanted to deal with him, said Retray. You're at liberty to do so. I'm only sorry I stood in your way. But no answer. And for once no rings of smoke came from those shriveled lips. The man had rolled and lighted a cigarette since Retray entered, but it was burning and heated between his skinny fingers. I had his attention all to myself. He knew the tale that I was going to tell. He was waiting for it. He was ready for me. The attentive droop of his head, the crafty glitter in his intelligent eyes, the depth and breadth of the creased forehead, the knowledge of his resource, the consciousness of my error, all distracted and confounded me, so that my speech halted and my voice ran thin. I told Retray every syllable that these traders had been saying behind his back. But I told it all very ill. What was worse, and made me worse, I was only too well aware of my own failure to carry conviction with my words. And why couldn't you come out and say so? asked Retray, as even I knew that he must. Why wait till now? Ah, why? echoed Santos with a smile and a shake of the head.  You know why, I said, trusting to bluff honesty with the one of them who was not rotten to the core, because I still meant escaping. And then what? asked Retray fiercely. You had given me my chance, I said. I would have given you yours. You would, would you? Very kind of you, Mr. Cole. No, no, said Santos. Not kind, but clever. Clever, specious, and quick-weeded beyond belief. Senor Retray, we have all been in the dark. We thought we had fooled to deal with. But what admirable name the young man would make. Such readiness, such resource, with his tongue or with his pistol. How useful would it be to us? I am glad you have decided to live him to me, friend Retray. For I am quite come round to your way of thinking. It is no longer necessary for him to die. You mean that? cried Retray keenly. Of course I meant it. You were quite right. He must join us. But he will when I talk to him. I could not speak. I was fascinated by this wretch. It was reptile and rabbit with us. Treachery I knew he meant. My death for one. My death was certain, and yet I could not speak. Then talk to him for God's sake, cried Retray. And I shall be only too glad if you can talk some sense into him. I have tried and failed. I shall not fail, said Santo softly. But it is better that he has a little time to think over it calmly. Better steal for him to slip upon it, as you say. Let us live him for the night. What there is of it. Time enough in the morning. I could hardly believe my ears. Still, I knew that it was treachery, all treachery, and the morning I should never see. But we can't leave him up here, said Retray. It would mean one of us watching him all night. Quite so, said Santos, I will tell you where we could live him. However, if you will allow me to whisper one little moment. They drew aside, and as I live, I thought that little moment was to be Retray's last on earth. I watched, but nothing happened. On the contrary, both men seemed agreed, the Portuguese gesticulating, the Englishmen nodding, as they stood conversing at the window. Their faces were strangely reassuring. I began to reason with myself to rid my mind of mere presentiment and superstition. If these two were really at one about me, I argued, there might be no treachery after all. When I came to think of it, Retray had been closeted long enough with me to awake the worst suspicions in the breast of his companions. Now that these were allayed, there might be no more bloodshed after all, if, for example, I pretended to give in. Even though Santos had not cared whose blood was shed a few minutes since. That was evidently the character of the wretch. To compass his needs, or to defend his person, he would take life, with no more compunction, than the ordinary criminal takes money. But, and hence, murder for murder's sake was no amusement to him. My confidence was further restored by Captain Harris. Ever a gross ruffian, with no refinements to his rascality, he had been at the brandy bottle after Retray's example, and now was dozing on the latter's bed, taking his watch below when he could get it, like the good seaman he had been. I was quite sorry for him when the conversation at the window ceased suddenly, and Retray roused the Captain up. Watch his aft, said he. We want that mattress. You can bring it along, while I lead the way with the pillows and things. Come on, Cole. Where to, I asked, standing firm. Where there's no window for you to jump out of, old boy, and no clothes of mine for you to hide behind. You needn't look so scared. It's as dry as a bone as cellars go, and it's past three o'clock, and you've just got to come. It was a good-sized wine cellar, with very little wine in it. Only one full bin could I discover. The bins themselves lined but two of the walls, and most of them were covered in with cobwebs, close-drawn, like mosquito-curtains. The ceiling was all too low. Torpid spiders hung in disreputable parlours, dead to the eye, but loathsomely alive at an involuntary touch. Rats scuttled when we entered, and I had not been long alone when they returned to bear me company. I am not a natural historian, and had rather face a lion with the right rifle than a rat with a stick. My jailers, however, had been kind enough to leave me a lantern, which, set upon the ground, like my mattress, would afford a warning, if not a protection, against the worst, unless I slept, and as yet I had not lain down. The rascals had been considerate enough, more especially Santos, who had a new manner for me with his revised opinion of my character. It was a manner almost as courtly as that which embellished his relations with Eva Denison, and won him my early regard at sea. Moreover, it was at the suggestion of Santos that they had detained me in the hall, for much needed meat and drink on the way down. Thereafter they had conducted me through the book-lined door of my undoing, down stone stairs leading to three cellar doors, one of which they had double-locked upon me. As soon as I durst I was busy with this door, but to no purpose, it was a slab of solid oak hung on hinges as massive as its lock. It galled me to think that but two doors stood between me and the secret tunnel to the sea, for one of the other two must lead to it. The first, however, was all beyond me, and I very soon gave it up. There was also a very small grating which led in a very little fresh air. The massive foundations had been tunneled in one place. A rude alcove was the result, with this grating at the end and top of it, some seven feet above the earth floor. Even had I been able to wrench away the bars, it would have availed me nothing, since the aperture formed the segment of a circle whose cord was but a very few inches long. I had nevertheless a fancy for seeing the stars once more, and feeling the breath of heaven upon my bandaged temples, which impelled me to search for that which should add a cubit to my stature. And at a glance I described two packing cases, rather small and squat, but the pair of them together the very thing for me. To my amazement, however, I could at first move neither one nor the other of these small boxes. Was it that I was weak as water, or that they were heavier than lead? At last I managed to get one of them in my arms, only to drop it with a thud. A side started. A thin sprinkling of yellow dust glittered on the earth. I fetched a lantern. It was gold dust from the Bendigo or from Ballarat. To me there was horror unspeakable, yet with all a morbid fascination in the spectacle of the actual booty for which so many lives had been sacrificed before my eyes. Minute followed minute in which I looked at nothing, and could think of nothing but the stolen bullion at my feet. Then I gathered what of the dust I could, pocketed it in pinches to hide my metal someness, and blew the rest away. The box had dropped very much where I had found it. It had exhausted my strength, nonetheless, and I was glad at last to lie down on the mattress and to wind my body in rat-raised blankets. I shuddered at the thought of sleep. The rats became so lively the moment I lay still. One ventured so near as to sit up close to the lantern.  And yet in the midst of these horrors, to me as bad as any that had preceded them, nature overcame me, and for a space my torment ceased. He is a slip, a soft voice said. Don't wake the poor devil, said another. But I wished to speak with him. Senator Cole! Senator Cole! I opened my eyes. Santos looked of uncanny stature in the low yellow light from my pillow close to the earth. Harris turned away at my glance. He carried a spade and began digging near the boxes without more ado by the light of a second lantern set on one of them. His back was to me from this time on. Santos shrugged his shoulder towards the captain as he opened a campstool, drew up his trousers, and seated himself with much deliberation at the foot of my mattress. When you have treasure, said he, the better thing is to bury it, Senator Cole. Our young friend upstairs begs to defer, but he is slipping. It is peaty he takes such quantity of brandy.  We in Portugal never touch it, save as a liqueur. Therefore we require less slip. Friend's squire upstairs is at this moment no better than a porker. Have I made a mistake? I thought it was the same word in both languages. But I am glad to see you smile, Senator Cole. That is a good sign. I was going to say, he is so fast a slip up there, that he would not hear us if we were to shoot each other dead. And he gave me his paternal smile, benevolent, humorous, reassuring. But I was no longer reassured. Nor did I greatly care any more what happened to me. There is a point of last, as well as one of least, resistance. And I had reached both points at once. Have you shot him dead? I inquired, thinking that if he had, this would precipitate my turn. But he was far from angry. The parchment face crumpled into tolerant smiles. The venerable head shook a playful reproval as he threw away the cigarette that I am tired of mentioning, and put the last touch to a fresh one with his tongue. What question, I said he. Really, Senator Cole, but you are quite right. I would have shot him, or cut his throat. And he shrugged indifference on the point. If it had not been for you, and yet it would have been your fault, I need not explain. The position must have explained itself already. Besides, it is past, with you two against us, but it is past. You see, I have no longer the excellent Jose. You broke his leg, bad man. I fear it will be necessary to destroy him. Santos made a pause. Then inquired if he shocked me. Not a bit, said I, neither truly nor untruely. You interest me. And that he did.  We will not argue it. I have at least some respect for prejudice. In my youth, I had myself such prejudices, but one loses them on the Zambezi.  And when you have killed a great many kafirs, by the lash, with the crocodiles, or whatnot, then a white man or two makes less difference. I acknowledge there were too many on board that sheep. But what was one to do? You have your English proverb about the dead men and the stories. It was necessary to make clean sweep. You see the result. He shrugged again towards the boxes, but this time, being reminded of them, I supposed, he rose and went over to see how Harris was progressing. The captain had never looked round. Neither did he look at Santos. A little dipper, I heard the latter say, and perhaps a few inches. But I lost the last epithet. It followed a glass over the shoulder in my direction, and immediately proceeded the return of Santos to his campstool. Yes, it is always better to bury treasure, said he once more, but his tone was altered. It was more contemplative, and many smoke rings came from the shrunk lips before another word. But through them all, his dark eyes, dull with age, were fixed upon me. You are a treasure, he exclaimed at last, softly enough, but quickly and emphatically for him, and with a sudden and most diabolical smile. So you are going to bury me. I had suspected it when first I saw the spade. Then not. But since the visit to the hole, I had made up my mind to it. Bury you. No, not alive, said Santos and his playfully reproving tone. It would be necessary to dig so deep, he added through his few remaining teeth. Well, I said, you'll swing for it. That's something. Santos smiled again, benignantly enough this time, in contemplation also, as an artist smiles upon his work. I was his. You live town, said he. No one knows where you go. You come down here. No one knows who you are. Your dear friend Squire locks you up for the night, but he drinks too much and goes to slip with the key in his pocket. It is there when he wakes. But the prisoner, where is he? He is gone, vanished, escaped in the night.  Is it trace? Behind. A little earth is so easily bitten down, a little more is so easily carried up into the garden, and a bead of nice strong wire might so easily be found in a cellar and afterwards in the lock. No, said her coal, I do not expect to hang. My skims have seldom one single flaw. There was just one in the Lady German. There was, in her coal. If there is one this time, and you will be so kind as to point it out, I will run the risk of shooting you instead of a pinch of his baggy throat between the fingers and thumbs of both hands foreshadowed a cleaner end. And yet I could look at him. Nay, it was more than I could do not to look upon that bloodless face with the two dry blots upon the parchment that were never withdrawn from mine. No, you won't, messmate. If it's him or us for it, let a bullet do it, and let it do it quick, you bloody Spaniard. You can't do the other without me, and my part's done. Harris was my only hope. I had seen this from the first, but my appeal I had been keeping to the very end, and now he was leaving me before a word would come. Santos had gone over to my grave, and there was Harris at the door. It is not deep enough, said the Portuguese. It's as deep as I mean to make it, with you sitting there talking about it. And the door stood open. Captain! I screamed. For Christ's sake, Captain! He stood there trembling, yet even now not looking my way. Did you ever see a man hanged? asked Santos, with the vile eye for each of us. I once hanged fifteen in a row, abominable thieves, and I once poisoned nearly a hundred at one banquet, an untrustworthy tribe.  Phew! There was one man. He was no stouter than you are, Captain. But the door slammed. We heard the Captain on the stairs. There was a rustle from the leaves outside, and then a silence that I shall not attempt to describe. And, indeed, I am done with this description, as I live to tell the tale, or spoil it if I choose, I will make shorter work of this particular business than I found it at the time. Perverse I may be in old age, as in my youth. But on that, my agony, my humiliating agony, I decline to dwell. I suffer it afresh as I write. There are the cobwebs on the ceiling, a bloated spider crawling in one. A worse monster is gloating over me. Those dull eyes of his, and my own pistol barrel, cover me in the lamp light. The crucifix pin is awry in his cravet. That is because he has offered it to me to kiss. As a refinement, I feel sure, my revolver is not cocked. And the hammer goes up, up. He missed me, because a lantern was flashed into his eyes through the grading. He wasted the next wall, and firing wildly at the light. And the last chamber's load became suddenly too precious for my person, for there were many voices overhead. There were many feet upon the stairs. Harris came first, head first, saw me still living, as he reeled, hurled himself upon the boxes, and one of these into the hole. All far quicker than my pen can write it. The maneuver, being the captain's, explained itself. On his heels trod rat-frey, with one who brought me to my feet like the call of silver trumpets. The house is surrounded, said the squire, very quick and quiet. Is this your doing, Cole? I wish it was, said I. But I can't complain. It saved my life.  Two things to do, said rat-frey. I don't care which. He strode across the cellar and pulled at the one full bin. Something slid out. It was a bin full of empty bottles, and this time they were allowed to crash upon the floor. The squire stood pointing to a manhole at the back of the bin. That's one alternative, said he, but it will mean leaving this much stuff at least, pointing to the boxes, and probably all the rest at the other end, the other things to stop and fight. I fight, said Santos, stalking to the door. Have you no more ammunition for me, friend Cole? Then I must leave you alive, adios, señor. Harris cast a wistful look towards the manhole. Not in cowardice, I fancy, but in sudden longing for the sea. The longing of a poor devil of a sailor-man doomed to die ashore. I am still sorry to remember that rat-frey judged him differently. Come on, skipper, said he. It's all or none aboard the lager, and I think it will be none. Up you go. Wait a second in the room above, and I'll find you an old cutlass. I shan't be longer. He turned to me with a writhe smile. We're not half-armed, he said. They've caught us fairly on the hop. It should be fun. Goodbye, Cole. I wish you'd had another round for that revolver. Goodbye, Eva.  But now she turned her back upon him without a word. His face changed. The storm-light of passion and remorse played upon it for an instant. He made a step towards her, wheeled abruptly, and took me by the shoulder instead. Take care of her, Cole, said he. Whatever happens, take care of her. I caught him at the foot of the stairs. I do not defend what I did. But I had more ammunition. A few wadded bullets, caps, and powder-charges loose in a jacket pocket. And I thrust them into one of his upon a sudden impulse, not as I think altogether unaccountable, albeit, as I have said, so indefensible. My back was hardly turned an instant. I had left a statue of unforgiving coldness. I started round to catch in my arms a half fainting, grief-stricken form, shaken with sobs that it broke my heart to hear. I placed her on the camp stool. I knelt down and comforted her, as well as I could, stroking her hands, my arms about her heaving shoulders, with the gold-brown hair streaming over them, such hair as it was, so much longer than I had dreamt, so soft, so fine. My soul swam in the sight and touch of it. Well for me that there broke upon us from above such a sudden din as turned my hot blood cold. A wild shout of surprise, an ensuing roar of defiance, shrieks and curses, yells of rage and pain, and pistol shot after pistol shot as loud as cannon in the confined space. I know now that the battle in the hall was a very brief affair. While it lasted I have no sense of time, minutes or moments. They were, God forgive me, some of the very happiest in all my life. My joy was as profound as it was also selfish and incongruous. The villains were being routed. Of that there could be no doubt or question. I hoped Ratre might escape, but for the others no pity stirred in my heart, and even my snaking sympathy with the squire could take nothing from the joy that was in my heart. Eva Denison was free. I was free. Our oppressors would trouble us no more. We were both lonely. We were both young. We had suffered together and for each other.  My blood ran hot and cold by turns. I forgot everything but our freedom and my love. I forgot my sufferings as I would have you all forget them. I am not to be pitted. I have been in heaven on earth. I was there that night, in my great bodily weakness, and in the midst of bloodshed, death and crime. They have stopped, cried Eva suddenly. It is over, oh, if he is dead. And she sat upright, with bright eyes starting from a deathly face. I do not think she knew that she had been in my arms at all, any more than I knew that the firing had ceased before she told me. Excited voices were still raised overhead, but some sounded distant yet more distinct coming through the grating from the garden. And none were voices that we knew. One poor wretch on the other hand we heard plainly groaning to his death, and we looked in each other's eyes with the same thought. That's Harris, said I, with I fear but little compassion in my tone or in my heart just then. Where are the others? cried Eva piteously. God knows, said I, they may be done for too. If they are, it's better than the death they would have lived to die. But only one of them was a willful murderer. Oh, Mr. Cole, Mr. Cole, go and see what has happened. Come back and tell me. I dare not come. I will stay here and pray for the strength to bear whatever news you may bring me. Go quickly. I will wait and pray.  How different a picture from that which awaited me overhead.


Good day everybody. This is Dr. Sanjeev Sanyal, Professor Department Chair. So this is going to be a demonstration of the structures on the right half of the face. We have completely decided out the supine cadaver. I'm standing on the right side. So first let's take a look at the muscles of facial expression. The thing about the muscles of facial expression are they are all derived from the second brankel arch and they are all supplied by branches of the facial nerve. So therefore though they are skeletal muscles, their texture is different and they do not have bony attachments on either side. One side may be having a bony attachment, the other side will be attached to the skin and they will be intermingled with fat and fascia. So therefore they are very fine structures and that's why they're called muscles of facial expression. So let's start off from the top and see what are the muscles that we can see here. First of all, we can see this muscle descending down. This is the alarnazalis. And if you look very carefully, we can see that there are some fibers which are going towards the ale of the nose. So therefore this is the alarnazalis and the rest of the muscle is the libator labiae superioris. So therefore the two together are called libator labiae superioris alec nasi. Then we have the next muscle here. This is the zygomaticus minor. Then we have this muscle here. This is a remnant of the zygomaticus major, which I'm going to come back again in a little while.  We can see this muscle here. This is the procerus muscle. This is the one which is responsible for producing horizontal wrinkles on the root of the nose. Then we have these muscle fibers. This is the corrugator super cli. And intermingle with the corrugator super cli and there's muscles around the eye. We have this muscle here. This is the frontalis muscle. This frontalis muscle is the one which gets attached to this ratio here. This is the galli aponeurotica. This circular muscle fibers that we can see here on upper eyelid and on the lower eyelid. These are the orbicularis oculi. The ones which are closer to the eyelid, they are the palpipar part and the ones which are more peripheral, they are the orbital part. And we can see them very clearly here. These are the ones which are responsible for closure of the eye. To continue further, as I've already mentioned, this is the zygomaticus major, the remnant of it. Deep down, we can see this muscle here. This is the libator anguli oris. Now this zygomaticus major, the libator anguli oris and the libator libis superioris, they all get attached to one fibromuscular condensation where my finger is pointing right now. This is called the modulus. The modulus is a fibromuscular cartwheel shaped structure, which is located approximately one centimeter lateral to the angle of the mouth. And attached to this modulus are six muscles. Three from above and three from below. The three from above are the libator libis superioris, the libator anguli oris and the zygomaticus major. The three from below are this muscle here, this curved muscle that we can see here. This is the depressor anguli oris. Then we have this muscle. We can see this going laterally. This is the risorius. Then we have the depressor labi inferioris and we can see this muscle here. This is the depressor labi inferioris. So three muscles from top, three muscles from below. And finally, we have a muscle coming from the median side and we can see a little bit of that here. This is the orbicularis and from the lateral side, we have this muscle here. This is the buccinator. The buccinator is a very unique muscle and we can see the parotid duct, the stenceless duct is piercing through the buccinator before it opens opposite the crown of the upper second molar tooth. This buccinator is the one which is responsible for blowing out the cheek. This takes origin from the terecomandibular raffae, from the maxilla, from the mandible and the fibers. They go anterior medially and they get inserted onto the modulus. So these are the total eight muscles, three from above, three from below, one from the median side, one from the lateral side, which are inserted onto this modulus. Having mentioned that, I will draw your attention to this big muscle that we can see here. This is not a muscle of facial expression. This is a muscle of mastication and this is the meseter muscle and we can see it is taking origin from the zygomatic arch. The fibers are very strong and they are covered by this aponeurotic sheet and they get inserted onto the meseter tuberosity on the lateral side of the angle of the mandible. This is responsible for tight closure of the jaw and the superficial fibers are responsible for protrusion of the mandible. And finally we can see a few muscle fibers here. These are the remnants of the platysma, which takes origin from the chest and the fibers they go up and they interdigitate with the muscles of the chin and with the opposite side and they are responsible for tensing the skin of the neck as well as depressing the mandible. Having mentioned these muscles of facial expression, which are all supplied by branches of facial nerve and we can show you some branches of facial nerve here. This is one branch of facial nerve, this is another branch of facial nerve and we can see it is supplying the platysma. They are all supplied by branches of facial nerve which comes through the parotid gland and we can see some of these branches here. Now let me draw your attention to the neurovascular structures that are visible in this particular dissection. So let's start from below. First of all we can see this torturous structure here. This is the facial artery. The facial artery is the branch from the external parotid artery from the neck. And as it goes up it makes a loop under the mandible and it makes a groove on this gland here. This is the submandibular salivary gland and then it follows a torturous pattern on the side of the face. It enters the face just anterior to the anterior border of the mandible and here against the lower border of the body of the mandible we can feel the pulsation. So this is the exact location of the pulsation of the facial artery and then the facial artery forms a torturous course. It intermeshes within the muscle fibres and with the fat and fascia and it finishes at the angle of the eye as the angular artery. So we can see a part of the facial artery here and we can see one of the branches here. It gives branches to the sub-mental artery, to the inferior labial, superior labial, lateral nasal, angular. So these are the essential branches of the facial artery. The next structure that I would draw your attention to is this one here. This is the facial vein. The facial vein starts as the angular vein here by the union of the supra-trochlear and the supra-orbital vein. And we can see one of the structures which are visible here at the root of the nose, this one. This angular vein, when it crosses the low margin of the orbit, it becomes known as the facial vein. So this is the continuation of the facial vein. And this is roughly parallel to the facial artery and as it goes down, it receives tributaries which correspond to the branches of the facial artery, namely an external nasal vein, a superior labial vein, inferior labial vein and the sub-mental vein. It receives communications. I will draw your attention to one particular vein which it is receiving and that is this one here. This is the deep facial vein. The deep facial vein comes through the buccinator muscle. This deep facial vein is the one which is responsible for carrying infection from the danger triangle of the face to the teregoid venous plexus. I shall come to the danger triangle of the face just in a little while. And then the facial vein, when it crosses the angle of the mandible, it comes to the neck. It is ideally supposed to unite with the anterior division of the retro mandibular vein, but in this case it is not uniting and then it forms what is known as a common facial vein which then opens into the internal jugular vein, which we cannot see in this particular dissection. That brings me to something called the danger triangle of the face. What is this danger triangle? This is a triangular area which starts from the root of the nose. It goes obliquely like this till the angle of the mouth on both the sides. This whole region is called the danger triangle of the face and we have made our skin incision corresponding to the danger triangle of the face. Any infection in the danger triangle of the face can potentially cause cavernous sinus thrombosis and how does it do so? Connections from here will go through the superior of thalmic vein. Connections from here will go through the inferior of thalmic vein and connections from here middle of the face will go through the deep facial vein. Any of these can communicate with the cavernous sinus either directly or indirectly through the teregoid venous plexus and can produce cavernous sinus thrombosis which is a potentially serious condition because that will produce what is known as cavernous sinus syndrome and can lead to injury to CN3, V1, V2 and CN6 and the sympathetic plexus and lead to what is known as Horner syndrome. So these are the importance of this facial venous drainage. Before I conclude I need to show you some other arteries which are visible on the face. We are in the upper portion of the parotid gland and we can see these structures here. This is the facial nerve which I had mentioned earlier. We can see the facial nerve and it's giving two trunks. One upper division, one lower division. Upper division is the temporal facial division which divides into a temporal and a psychomatic branch and the lower one is the cervical facial division which gives the buccal marginal mandibular and cervical branch and we can see the two divisions here. This is the type 1 division. We can see this artery here. This is the superficial temporal artery which is the smaller terminal division of the external parotid artery dividing into maxillary and superficial temporal. Then we can see this vein here. This is the superficial temporal vein and we can see this nerve here. This is the auricular temporal nerve. These three structures they travel in this superficial temporal fascia and we can see this tortuous artery here. This is the continuation of the superficial temporal artery and they supply the skin of the temporal region. So these are the structures which I wanted to show you on the face and before I conclude I need to show you one more structure. This is the great auricular nerve. The great auricular nerve comes from the cervical plexus and it goes and supplies the parotid sheath. It also supplies a little bit of the skin over the parotid region as well as the sweat glands over the skin of the parotid region in this here. So therefore if there is an injury of the trigeminal nerve this is the portion of the space which will be spared from loss of sensation. And talking about trigeminal nerve brings me to this nerve here that we can see. This is the continuation of the interorbital nerve which comes through the interorbital foremen and it supplies the skin of the middle one third of the face. So these are all the structures that I wanted to show you in a dissection of the face. The arteries, veins, nerves and the muscles of facial expression. Thank you very much for watching. Dr. Sanjeev Sanyam signing out. Solomon is the camera person. If you have any questions or comments please put them in the comment section below. Have a nice day. Please like and subscribe.