Witness to the Deed Part 26

It was just the same down at home; there was our big old apple tree, the Gennet-Moyle, as I could get up when I liked, or knock as many down as I pleased with mother's clothes props--good apples they was, too; but they wouldn't do--one always wanted to get over Thompson's walls to smug those old hard baking pears, which was like nibbling the k.n.o.bs off the top of the bedposts."

He laughed until his shoulders shook.

"Poor old Thompson!" he said half aloud. "Said he'd have some of us put in prison for stealing. Wonder whether some of these poor beggars began that way and then went on. Humph! maybe. Well, they should have known better."

He continued his march up and down for a while, and then stopped once more, grounded his piece, and stood there quite invisible to anyone a few yards away. He went on thinking about the town at the head of the bay, and the music, and of how time was going; and then his thoughts went back to the great body of dangerous criminals shut up in the huge, grim buildings, and of how much depended on the care and diligence of those in charge--a mere handful compared to those they guarded.

"Only we've got the law on our side and they haven't," he thought; and as the thought ran through his brain he felt the blood pulsate sharply and there was a heavy throb at his heart, for there was a peculiar sound away to his right, high up the steep slope of the cliff, as if a stone had been dislodged and had slipped down a few yards before stopping in a cleft. He stood listening intently, but the sound was not repeated--all was still as death; but the man's pulses had been stirred, and his heart beat in a manner that was painful.

It was not that he was particularly wanting in courage, but, shut in there by the darkness, it was impossible to keep back the thought that a desperate man who had stolen out or hidden might be lurking close by ready to spring upon him in an unguarded moment, drive him off the cliff shelf which formed his beat, and all would be over in an instant. For a fall there meant death by drowning or the fearful crash on to the rocks below.

"They shan't take me unawares," he thought, and then he hesitated as to whether he should give the alarm by firing his piece.

In an instant he had raised it and his finger was on the trigger, but he did not make its flash cut the darkness for a moment and its report run re-echoing along the cliffs.

"What for?" he said to himself; "bring the fellows here to laugh at me because I heard a rabbit on the move. I should never hear the last of it."

He again grounded his piece, but very softly, and stood with his back to the sea, straining his eyes in the direction from whence the sound had come, but the stones that towered up were all blurred together into one black ma.s.s, and though he fancied several times over that he could make out the figure of a man half-hidden by some projection, he was fain to confess directly after that it was all fancy.

"But fancy or not," he said to himself, "I don't mean to be taken on the grand hop,"--and he did not stir from his position where he stood on the very edge of the cliff shelf, but kept on glancing to right and left along the stone path, and sweeping the slope in front.

Ten minutes pa.s.sed like this--ten long-drawn intervals of time--and then the man threw up his rifle and stood ready, fully expecting an attack, certain now that there had been good reason for the dislodgement of the stone. For from high up on the top of one of the ranges of prison buildings a sound rang out which sent a thrill through the watcher's nerves.

It was the alarm bell, which might mean the escape of prisoners or an attack from a deadly enemy; but it could not be the latter, for there was no reflection of a fire.

"Now for it!" muttered the man, with his finger on the trigger, prepared for the rush of a man or men, and he thought over the formula he must utter before he fired.

"I don't want to hurt anybody," he said softly, "but no one shall drive me over without getting something first. It's that Ratcliff Highway chap at his games again. I wish they'd hang him or send him somewhere else."

And he thought of a warder who had been disabled for life, and another who was absent twelve months, both from injuries inflicted by a savage brute whom all the men feared.

Another instant and all doubts were at an end, for there was a bright flash, and directly after the heavy, reverberating roar of a gun.

"Sharp's the word!" said the man softly as, taught by training, his fingers involuntarily drew forth aloud clicking from the lock of the piece he held; and as he stood there, breathing hard, every nerve and muscle was on the strain, for he could hear steps coming rapidly in his direction, and they must pa.s.s him--there was no other way; and it meant a desperate attack made by men armed with hammers and bars, perhaps only stones, and on the warder's part duty and self defence.

"Someone's number crossed out," he muttered fiercely, for there was no feeling of dread now.

Then a change came over him as, with an intense feeling of satisfaction, he grasped the fact that the measured beat of feet was that of their more disciplined men.

He challenged, and there was the rea.s.suring response.

"Anyone been this way?" cried a sergeant breathlessly as he halted four men.

"No."

"Three of 'em got out and half killed two warders. They came along here, we think."

"n.o.body been this way."

"Keep a sharp lookout, then. We're going on. Challenge, of course, but if they don't stand let them have it. They won't spare you. Ready, there; we'll go on to the next post, and come back directly."

"Stop!" said the sentry huskily; "I thought I heard a stone roll down from up yonder a few minutes ago."

"They are there, then," cried the sergeant, "safe enough. Now, then,"

he shouted; "the game's up, my lads. Give in. No stones, or I'll give orders to fire. Ready, there; present!"

There was a dead silence.

"n.o.body could get over the cliff here," growled one of the men.

"Monkeys might, perhaps."

"Silence!" cried the sergeant. "They must be there. Now, then, will you come down, or are we to pick you off?"

"Hus.h.!.+ What's that?"

The unmistakable rattling of stones and a scrambling sound as if someone had slipped.

"Hah! that's good enough. Now, then, is it surrender?"

Silence again, and the darkness in front blacker than ever.

"You will have it, then," cried the sergeant. "One and four, a dozen paces right and left."

The evolution was performed, and then with a man on each side of him the sergeant once more shouted to the convicts to give in.

"Hi, look out!" roared one of the warders.

"In the queen's name, surrend--"

A dull, heavy blow, and a groan were heard almost together, cutting short the sergeant's challenge, for a heavy piece of rock struck him full in the face, while a couple more blocks whizzed by the others, to fall heavily far below where they stood. Simultaneously three dark figures bounded on to the edge and made at the little group.

The attack was so sudden and direful in its results that the warders gave way right and left, while the convicts stooped, literally glided over the edge of the path, and began to descend the horribly steep cliff.

"Don't keep together," cried a hoa.r.s.e voice from below. "Every man for himself now."

"Fire!" shouted one of the warders; and almost together three rifles flashed out their contents, followed by a derisive laugh.

Then the warder who had been ordered off to the right fired, and as the shot echoed along the cliff there was a terrible cry, followed by a rush as of something falling.

"Now, then, surrender!" cried one of the warders, who was reloading rapidly, just as rapid steps were heard coming along the path.

"Where are they?" shouted an authoritative voice as ten or a dozen more men were now halted on the shelf-like path.

"Right below here, sir. One of 'em down."

"Halt, there! Do you hear, men? Surrender at once; you can't escape."

No reply, but those above could hear the scuffling noise of those descending and the rattle of a heavy stone, followed by a dull plunge.