"There was but one who ever knew the secret of that passage; my kinsman,with whom I stayed in Crom when young, told me of him. He tried much tofind the entrance to the Castle, and finally under threat he went awayto America. He was a base-born and a thief. It must be he who has comeback after these years and has told of the secret way. Alas! they musthave watched me when I went, all unsuspicious; and so discovered theother secret." Then he tried to explain where the entrance was. It wasnot in the chamber where we had expected it would be, but in a narrowcorner of the stair, the whole corner being one stone and forming theentrance.
When we arrived at Crom we found that the Secret Service men werewaiting for me, having been instructed from London. There were alsotelegrams from Adams and Cathcart saying that they were on the way tojoin me. Adams wired from Aberdeen, and Cathcart from Kingussie. Mrs.Jack was with the detectives and had taken them through the rooms whichMarjory had used. They had had up the servants one by one and examinedthem as to what they knew. The chief man had insisted on this; he saidmatters were now too serious to play the fool any longer. The servantswere not told anything, even that Marjory was missing; but of coursethey had their suspicions. A peremptory order was given that no oneshould leave the house without permission. The chief confided to me thatMrs. Jack had quite broken down when she was telling him that Marjoryknew all along about the blackmailers and had never told her. "But she'sall right now, Sir," he concluded. "That old lady is just full of sand;and I tell you her head is level. She's been thinking of everythingwhich could possibly be of use to us. I guess I have heard more ofthis racket within the last half hour than I have done in the last twoweeks."
By the instructions of Don Bernardino we went into the library. I askedMrs. Jack to send for lamps and candles, and these were brought shortly.In the meantime I asked that one of the detectives should be sent intothe old chapel and another to the monument on the hill. Both were warnedto have their guns ready, and to allow no one to pass at any hazard. Toeach before going I explained the secret mode of entry.
The Don went over to one of the book-cases--the very section containingthe shelf in which I had replaced the old law book. Taking out thatparticular volume, he put his hand in and pressed a spring. There was afaint click. He replaced the book and pressed against the bookcase withslow level pressure. Very slowly it seemed to give way before him; andthen turning on a hinge at one side, left an open cavity through which aman could easily pass. I was about to rush in, and was quite ready, witha lamp in one hand and a revolver in the other, when the chief of thedetectives laid a restraining hand on my arm as he said:
"Wait a moment. If you go too fast you may obliterate some sign whichwould give us a clue!" The wisdom of his speech was not to be gainsaid.Instinctively I fell back; two of the trained observers drew close tothe doorway, and holding their lamp in such wise as to throw light allround the opening, began an exact scrutiny. One of them knelt down andexamined the flooring; the other confined his attention to roof andwalls. After a silence, lasting perhaps a minute, the man kneeling stoodup and said:
"Not a doubt about it! There has been a violent struggle here at thedoorway!"
CHAPTER XLIV
THE VOICE IN THE DUST
One of the men produced his note book and began taking down in shorthandthe rapid utterances of the chief, repeating it so as to check theaccuracy as he went on:
"Easy to see the marks; the floor is deep in dust, and the walls arethick with it. On floor, mark of several feet--confused in struggle, mayarticulate separately later on--one woman's--also trailing of longskirt. On walls marks of hands, fingers outspread, as if trying tograsp. Some of the long marks down the wall others across." The speakerhere raised his lamp and held it in the opening as far as his arm wouldgo; then he went on:
"Steps wind downwards to right. Struggle seems to have stopped.Footmarks more clear."... Then the chief turned to us:
"I think gentlemen, we may follow in now. The footmarks may bediscriminated and identified later. We must chance destroying them, orwe cannot pass in this narrow passage." Here I spoke; a thought had beensurging up in my brain ever since the detective had pointed out thefinger marks on the wall "down and across":
"Stop a moment please! Let me see the marks on the wall before any oneenters; the passage is narrow and they may be rubbed off." A glance wasenough, just time enough to formulate which was the symbol of "a" andwhich of "b." The perpendicular strokes were "a" and the horizontal "b."Marjory had kept her head, even at this trying time, and was leaving amessage for me as she was forced along. I understood why the strugglehad ceased. Seized and forced through the narrow doorway, she had atfirst struggled hard. Then, when she realised that she could leave aclue behind her, she had evidently agreed to go quietly; for so shemight have her hands free. It would be a hard job to carry or forcealong an unwilling captive through that narrow uneven passage; doubtlessthe captors were as willing as she was that she should go quietly. Isaid to the detectives:
"These marks on the wall are in a cipher which I can read. Give me thebest lamp we have, and let me go first."
So, in an orderly procession, leaving two men in the library with Mrs.Jack to guard the entrance, we passed into the secret passage. As I readoff the words written on the wall, the man with the note-book took themdown, his companion holding a candle so as to enable him to do so. Howmy heart beat as I read my dear girl's message, marked on the wall onthe inner side whichever way the curves ran. Obviously it would createless attention by guiding herself in this wise as she passed. She hadkept her hand well down so that her signs should not be confused withthe marks made by the men who, guiding themselves likewise, had heldtheir hands at a natural height. Her sign marks ran continuously,even after we had passed into the passage between the chapel and themonument; the writing ran as follows:
"Four men came in--two waiting in passage through bookcase--late--strikingone--struggled--then quiet--hands free--same voice we heard in Chapel.Feathers thin voice, small man, dark--all masked--Whisky Tommy hoarsevoice, big man, sandy, large hands--Dago, deep voice, swarthy, littlefinger missing left hand--Max, silent, nods for speech, think dumb--twoothers on ahead too far see, hear."
In a pause I heard the chief detective murmur:
"That girl's a peach. We'll get her yet!" The spot at which we werepausing was where the way to the reservoir branched off. Here Marjoryprobably stood with her back to the wall and used her hands behind herback, for the strokes were smaller and more uneven. There were faultswhich put me out and I could only read a few words--"whispering"--"onlyword can hear 'manse.'" There was evidently some conversation going onbetween her captors, and she was making use of her opportunities. Thenwe went on and found the signs renewed. It cut me to the heart when Isaw a smear of blood on one of the marks; the rough uncertain movementand the sharp edges of the rock had told on her delicate skin. But lateron, the blood marks were continued, and I could not but think that shehad cut her fingers on purpose to make a more apparent clue. When Imentioned my surmise to the detective, his instinct having been trainedin such matters, showed a keener insight than my own:
"More likely she is preparing to leave a mark which we can see when theyget her out of the tunnel. They may not suspect intention if her fingersare bleeding already!" The words following the stop where I had read"manse" were:
"Boat ready--Seagull--Coffin--Hearse--bury isl--" Here the next markinstead of being horizontal took a sudden angle down, and the blood wasroughly rubbed off. It was as though her hand had been struck in the actof making the mark. Her captors had suspected her. There were no moremarks on the wall. I could not imagine, however, that Marjory would beentirely baffled. She had infinite resource, and would doubtless findsome other means of leaving a clue. Telling the others therefore to keepback I threw the rays of the lamp over roof and walls and floor as weproceeded.
It was a strange scene. The candles and lamp showing up but patches oflight in the inky black darkness; the moving figures projected againstthe lights as I looked back; the silence broken by the shuffling treadof stumbling feet on the rock floor; the eager intense faces, when achange in the light flashed them into view. It all moved me at moments,for there was a gleam of hope in its earnestness.
I tried to put myself in Marjory's position. If her hands were useless,as they would be if she could not use them without suspicion--even werethey not tied now as was probable--her next effort would be with herfeet; I therefore looked out carefully for any sign made this way.Presently I came across a mark which I suspected. It was only a fewsteps beyond the last mark on the wall. It was a sort of drag of thefoot, where there was any slight accumulation of dust, or rubbish, orsand. There were more such traces ahead. So motioning to the others tokeep back, I followed them up, taking care not to disturb any of them.They were but the rough marks made during a stumbling progress; and fora time I was baffled; though I could distinguish the traces of Marjory'slittle feet amongst the great ones. Then I went back and looked at themafresh from the beginning, and a light burst upon me. They were madewith the right or left foot as required; thus she could reproduce thebi-literal symbol. Interpretation was now easy enough, and hence on, tothe exit from the tunnel, I could tell almost every word written. Therebeing only a few cases where the sign was not sufficiently marked forme to read it.
"Suspicious. Hands tied--gagged--find Seagull--find Manse."
It was sadly slow work, and my heart at times sank within me at theexasperating delay in our progress. However, it was progress afterall; and that sustained us. All along, as we worked our way towardsthe monument, I had been thinking of the word "manse;" and now itsrepetition showed its importance. It would be necessary that theabductors have some place in which to conceal their captive, before theyshould be able to get her out of the country. That this latter would bea necessary step towards their object was manifest; but the word_Seagull_ settled it.
When we got to the entrance of the tunnel we examined every inch of theway; this was the wish of the detective rather than my own. Marjorywould, it seemed to me, go quietly through the entrance. She wouldknow that she was being watched here with extra carefulness; and wouldreserve herself for a less suspicious opportunity. She would also knowthat if I were on her track at all, I would be able to follow throughthe secret entrance.
Outside, on the ground beside the monument, were no unusual signsof passage. The patch of bare earth and gravel, which we had beforenoticed, left no trace of footsteps. Those who had used it had evidentlytaken care that there should be no sign. We went slowly along theroute, which, by my former experiments with the thread, I had found washabitually used. Presently one of the Americans asked me to stop, as hehad seen a trace of feet. For my life I could distinguish nothing in theseemingly undisturbed mass of pine needles. But the man, who in hisyouth had been in Indian country, had learned something of tracking;he could interpret signs unseen to others with less highly developedinstincts. He went down on his knees and examined the ground, inch byinch, using a microscope. For some ten yards he crawled along on handsand knees engaged in this way. Then he stood up and said:
"There's no error about it now. There are six
men and a woman. They havebeen carrying her, and have let her down here!" We did not challenge hisreport, or even ask how he had arrived at it; we were all well contentto accept it.
We then moved on in the manifest direction in which the ground trended;we were working towards the high road which ran past the gates of Crom.I asked the others to let me go first now, for I knew this would beMarjory's chance to continue her warning. Surely enough, I saw presentlya slight disturbance in the pine needles, and then another and another.I spelled out the word "Manse" and again "Manse" and later on "try allManses near." Then the sign writing ceased; we had come out of the woodon to a grass field which ran down to the high road. Here, outside a gapat the bottom of the field, were the marks in the dust of several feet,the treading of horses, and the ruts of wheels. A little further on,the wheel marks--some four-wheeled vehicle--were heavy; and from thebackward propulsion of the dust and gravel in the hoof-tracks we couldeasily see that the horses were galloping.
We stopped and held a council of war. It was, of course understood by usall that some one should follow on the track of the carriage, and try toreach the quarry this way. For my own part, I felt that to depend on awheel mark, in such a country of cross roads, was only the off chance.In any case, this stern chase must be a long one; whereas time wasvital, every moment being precious. I determined to try to follow outMarjory's clue. "Try every Manse near." To do this we should get tosome centre where we could obtain a list of all the churches in theneighbourhood. Ellon was naturally the place, as it was in the centre ofthe district. They all acquiesced in my view; so we hurried back toCrom, leaving two men, the tracker and another, to follow the fugitives.Hitherto Don Bernardino had hardly said a word. He was alert, and theeager light of his eye was helpful; but after he had shown us the secretway, and found that already I knew the outer passage as well as he did,or better, he had contented himself with watchfulness. Now he suggested: