Dead Man's Rock Part 42

With a dreadful snarl he was on me and smote me across the face.

Then as I continued to call and shout, struck me one fearful blow behind the ear. I remember that the dim lamp shot out a streak of blood-red flame, the cabin was lit for one brief instant with a flash of fire, a thousand lights darted out, and then--then came utter blackness--a vague sensation of being caught up and carried, of plunging down--down--

CHAPTER XI. AND LAST.

TELLS HOW AT LAST I FOUND MY REVENGE AND THE GREAT RUBY.

"Speak--speak to me! Oh, look up and tell me you are not dead!"

Down through the misty defiles and dark gates of the Valley of the Shadow of Death came these words faintly as though spoken far away.

So distant did they seem that my eyes opened with vague expectation of another world; opened and then wearily closed again.

For at first they stared into a heaven of dull grey, with but a shadow between them and colourless s.p.a.ce. Then they opened once more, and the shadow caught their attention. What was it? Who was I, and how came I to be staring upward so? I let the problem be and fell back into the easeful lap of unconsciousness.

Then the voice spoke again. "He is living yet," it said. "Oh, if he would but speak!"

This time I saw more distinctly. Two eyes were looking into mine--a woman's eyes. Where had I seen that face before? Surely I had known it once, in some other world. Then somehow over my weary mind stole the knowledge that this was Mrs. Luttrell--or was it Claire?

No, Claire was dead. "Claire--dead," I seemed to repeat to myself; but how dead or where I could not recall. "Claire--dead;" then this must be her mother, and I, Jasper Trenoweth, was lying here with Claire's mother bending over me. How came we so? What had happened, that--and once more the shadow of oblivion swept down and enfolded me.

She was still there, kneeling beside me, chafing my hands and every now and then speaking words of tender solicitude. How white her hair was! It used not to be so white as this. And where was I lying?

In a boat? How my head was aching!

Then remembrance came back. Strange to tell, it began with Claire's death in the theatre, and thence led downwards in broken and interrupted train until Colliver's face suddenly started up before me, and I knew all.

I raised myself on my elbow. My brain was throbbing intolerably, and every pulsation seemed to shoot fire into my temples. Also other bands of fire were clasped about my arms and wrists. So acutely did they burn that I fell back with a low moan and looked helplessly at Mrs. Luttrell.

Although it had been snowing, her bonnet was thrust back from her face and hung by its ribbons which were tied beneath her chin.

The breeze was playing with her disordered hair--hair now white as the snow-flakes upon it, though grey when last I had seen it--but it brought no colour to her face. As she bent over me to place her shawl beneath my head, I saw that her blue eyes were strangely bright and prominent.

"Thank G.o.d, you are alive! Does the bandage pain you? Can you move?"

I feebly put my hand up and felt a handkerchief bound round my head.

"I was afraid--oh, so afraid!--that I had been too late. Yet G.o.d only knows how I got down into your boat--in time--and without his seeing me. I knew what he would do--I was listening behind the part.i.tion all the time; but I was afraid he would kill you first."

"Then--you heard?"

"I heard all. Oh, if I were only a man--but can you stand? Are you better now? For we must lose no time."

I weakly stared at her in answer.

"Don't you see? If you can stand and walk, as I pray you can, there is no time to be lost. Morning is already breaking, and by this evening you must catch him."

"Catch him?"

"Yes, yes. He has gone--gone to catch the first train for Cornwall, and will be at Dead Man's Rock to-night. Quick! see if you cannot rise."

I sat up. The water had dripped from me, forming a great pool at our end of the boat. In it she was kneeling, and beside her lay a heavy knife and the cords with which Simon Colliver had bound me.

"Yes," I said, "I will follow. When does the first train leave Paddington?"

"At a quarter past nine," she answered, "and it is now about half-past five. You have time to catch it; but must disguise yourself first. He will travel by it, there is no train before.

Come, let me row you ash.o.r.e."

With this she untied the painter, got out the sculls, sat down upon the thwart opposite, and began to pull desperately for sh.o.r.e.

I wondered at her strength and skill with the oar.

"Ah," she said, "I see at what you are wondering. Remember that I was a sailor's wife once, and without strength how should I have dragged you on board this boat?"

"How did you manage it?"

"I cannot tell. I only know that I heard a splash as I waited under the bows there, and then began with my hands to fend the boat around the schooner for dear life. I had to be very silent. At first I could see nothing, for it was dark towards the sh.o.r.e; but I cried to Heaven to spare you for vengeance on that man, and then I saw something black lying across the warp, and knew it was you. I gave a strong push, then rushed to the bows and caught you by the hair.

I got you round by the stern as gently as I could, and then pulled you on board somehow--I cannot remember exactly how I did it."

"Did he see you?"

"No, for he must have gone below directly. I rowed under the shadow of the lighter to which we were tied just now, and as I did so, thought I heard him calling me by name. He must have forgotten me, and then suddenly remembered that as yet I had not given him the money. However, presently I heard him getting into his boat and rowing ash.o.r.e. He came quite close to us--so close that I could hear him cursing, and crouched down in the shadow for fear of my life.

But he pa.s.sed on, and got out at the steps yonder. It was snowing at the time and that helped me."

She pulled a stroke or two in silence, and then continued--

"When you were in the cabin together I was listening. At one point I think I must have fainted; but it cannot have been for long, for when I came to myself you were still talking about--about John Railton."

I remembered the sound which I had heard, and almost in spite of myself asked, "You heard about--"

"Claire? Yes, I heard." She nodded simply; but her eyes sought mine, and in them was a gleam that made me start.

Just then the boat touched at a mouldering flight of stairs, crusted with green ooze to high-water mark, and covered now with snow.

She made fast the boat.

"This was the way he went," she muttered. "Track him, track him to his death; spare him no single pang to make that death miserable!"

Her low voice positively trembled with concentrated hate.

"Stay," she said, "have you money?"

I suddenly remembered that I had given all the money on me to Bagnell for getting out my boat, and told her so. At the same moment, too, I thought upon the tin box still lying under the boat's stern.

I stepped aft and pulled it out.

"Here is money," she said; "money that I was to have given him.

Fifty pounds it is, in notes--take it all."

"But you?" I hesitated.

"Never mind me. Take it--take it all. What do I want with money if only you kill him?"

I bent and kissed her hand.

"As Heaven is my witness," I said, "it shall be his life or mine.