Doctor Syn on the High Seas - Thorndike Russell - Страница 15
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you have shown quite enough of your mettle by knocking the bully into
the roadway, and my advice is to let it rest at that.”
After an hour or so, the mellowness of the god old man’s excellent
advice and admirable wine imparted itself to the spirits of both the
young gentlemen, so that when they bade him farewell, and walked into
the night air, each was desirous of seeing the other to his home.
“You are a guest, Tony,” said Doctor Syn, “and you have already kept
your future relatives up too long. I will walk there with you.”
“And have you no regard for your College gate -keeper?” laughed
Cobtree. “I told my in-laws I should be late, and they have entrusted
me with their house key. I will therefore walk with you to Queen’s, and
drink a good -night glass with you. What do you say?”
“I can hardly refuse my best friend hospitality,” laughed Syn.
And thus it was the Fate gave Doctor Syn a valued ally in a great
adventure for no sooner had they rung the porter’s bell than the
Squire’s note was handed to the Doctor.
He read it by the light of the lantern in the lodge, and as he read,
his friend saw his face veiled over with determined rage.
“What is wrong, Christopher?” he asked.
Doctor Syn crumpled the letter in his hand and, bringing his fist
down with a crash upon the porter’s desk, cried out, “That settles it!
Either I or that rascal dies tonight. The Chancellor did not guess at
this. Read it and wait here. There is something I must fetch from my
chambers.”
Cobtree did not obey, but with the letter in his hand hurried after
his friend, and when the chamber door was unlocked and Doctor Syn had
lighted a candle in the cozy and familiar study, Tony smoothed the paper
and read. By the time he had finished it, with many a gasp of horror
and surprise, his friend stood before him in a long clock.
“This is a wicked lie,” cried Cobtree, flourishing the letter. “Let
us go to White Friars, where no doubt we shall find the dear ladies are
sleeping saf ely. This is but a trap to get you to Iffley.”
“By gad, Tony, you are right, I never thought of that. Come with me
to St. Giles’, and if they are not there —well, then, I am for Iffley
and the rascal’s blood.”
“Of course they will be there,” said Tony. “How could he have
dragged them from the house?”
“Well, if he has,” said Syn between clenched teeth, “I have this
about me that will rescue them,” and drawing back his cloak he tapped
the hilt of a long sword. “It was my father’s, who was but the Prince
in ‘45. He took it from my father’s dead hand. Aye, the old lawyer
died game enough, and so will I if needs be. Come on, If they have
gone, I’ll get a horse at Hobson’s. And if they are there I’ll get it
just the same and teach this rogue that parsons are first of all
gentlemen. The Chancellor may groan, but this night I fight a duel. At
least come with me to St. Giles’, but after that I go alone.”
“Come along, then,” replied Tony grimly. “We’ll get along there as
quickly as we can, and a fter we will get two horses from Hobson’s.”
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And so the two friends hurried from Queen’s to St. Giles’, where all
was quiet, as the Fair had closed.
Now, owing to the fact that the landlady at White Friars had been
extremely anxious as to the fate of Doctor Syn, the two young gentlemen
found a light burning downstairs, and on their knock upon the door it
was immediately opened. Although very glad to find the Doctor alive and
able, when she had told them about the ladies under her charge and had
read the contents of the Squire of Iffley’s letter, she was in a sore
state of panic, in which Doctor Syn and Tony had to leave her, since
their haste was urgent to rescue the ladies from what they knew would be
unspeakable torture.
As they ran toward Hobson’s stables, Doctor Syn begged Tony to go
home and leave the rest to him, which, of course, Tony refused to do.
But it was not until Doctor Syn found himself galloping neck to neck
over Magdalen Bridge alongside his friend that he realized nothing could
shake off Tony Cobtree from the perilous adventure.
“To the gates of Iffley, I suppose?” cried Tony, spurring on.
“No,” reported the Doctor. “I have a better plan. We will pick up
on our way another ally against the rascal. We will rouse the farmer I
told you about, because this is to be war to the death, and the more
upon our side the better our generalship against this rogue, who will
have a host of retainers at his back. From what I told you, I think
this farmer will not hang back now.”
“Aye,” cried Tony, riding hard. “If we ride to the gates of Iffley
they will be prepared for you, but if this fellow can ferry us over the
Isis in his boat and land us there upon the Iffley estate, we shall
attack perhaps with more surprise.”
Although the hour was very late, the young men were fortunate in
finding a light in the cowshed, where the farmer was attending to a sick
animal. He recognized Doctor Syn immediately, and after hearing that
their errand was in the quest of revenge, was at once eager not only to
help, but to take an active part in the affair. In the space of a few
minutes Hobson’s horses were stabled, and he was leading them towards
the meadow bank where he moored a fishing-boat.
“I bring a loaded pistol for the cause, sir,” he said. “I am no
gentleman and cannot use a sword, but if you two should fail to kill
this vermin, believe me, gentlemen, I can shoot straight. And now,
please tell me how you intend to act when we touch the farther bank.”
“Proceed to the house, and kick up hell till we get in, of course,”
said Syn.
“I have a better plan than that,” replied the farmer. “A secret that
for years has been a source of comfort to me. You may have heard of
Charles Herman. He is the most skillfull cabinet-maker in Oxford.”
“Very well,” said Syn. “He does a lot of work for the colleges.”
“He is my brother -in-law,” went on the farmer. “A year or so back he
was called in by the Squire yonder to open up a sliding panel in the
great oak room on the first floor which the scoundrel uses for his
gaming. This panel, as our Charles discovered, leads by a flight of
winding steps to the old water-gate. In his father’s time it had been
closed, but no doubt the present Squire has found good use for it.
There have been bodies recovered from the Isis before now over which the
coroner has pronounced ‘Suicide’ or ‘Accidential death by drowning’. On
each occasion, Charles and I thought differently. The poor victims had
no doubt fallen foul of Bully Tappitt.
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Charles repaired the secret spring which operates on both sides of the
door, and being an expert locksmith too, he had to make a new key to fit
the water-gate. After the tragedy to my daughter, Charles told me of
this secret way, and I learned that he had n ot destroyed the mold from
which he made the key. I begged him to make another, which he did, and
gave to me. I have it always here against my heart. It is a large key,
but the feel of it has ever been a joy to me. The knowledge that at any
time I had the means to surprise that devil has made my heart sing
for sheer delight. I have used it many times, and listened at the
panel. But on each occasion he had company, and I needed him alone.
Sometimes in the dead of night I have let myself through the panel,
which Charles had made to slide so silently, and have stood in the oak
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