 Section 14 of Library of the World's Best Mysteries and Detective Stories, Volume 2. 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 Mary Ann. Library of the World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 2 by Julian Hawthorne Editor. Section 14 The Pavilion on the Links by Robert Louis Stevenson, Part 1 1. I was a great solitary when I was young. I made it my pride to keep aloof and suffice for my own entertainment. And I may say that I had neither friends nor acquaintances until I met that friend who became my wife and the mother of my children. With one man only was I on private terms. This was our Northmore, Esquire, of Great and Easter, in Scotland. We had met at college, and though there was not much liking between us, nor even much intimacy, we were so nearly of a humour that we could associate with ease to both. Misanthropes, we believed ourselves to be, but I have thought sense that we were only sulky fellows. It was scarcely a companionship, but a coexistence in unsociability. Northmore's exceptional violence of temper made it no easy affair for him to keep the peace with anyone but me. And as he respected my silent ways and let me come and go as I pleased, I could tolerate his presence without concern. I think we called each other friends. When Northmore took his degree and I decided to leave the university without one, he invited me on a long visit to Great and Easter. And it was thus that I first became acquainted with the scene of my adventures. The mansion house of Greaton stood in a bleak stretch of country some three miles from the shore of the German Ocean. It was as large as a barrack, and as it had been built of a soft stone, liable to consume the eager air of the seaside, it was damp and draughty within and half ruinous without. It was impossible for two young men to lodge with comfort in such dwelling. But there stood in the northern part of the estate, in a wilderness of links and blowing sandhills, and between a plantation and the sea, a small pavilion, or Belvedere, of modern design, which was exactly suited to our wants. And in this hermitage, speaking little, reading much, and rarely associating accepted meals, Northmore and I spent four tempestuous winter months. I might have stayed longer, but one March night there sprung up between us a dispute which rendered my departure necessary. Northmore spoke hotly, I remember, and I suppose I must have made some tart rejoinder. He leaped from his chair and grappled me. I had to fight, without exaggeration, for my life, and it was only with great effort that I mastered him, for he was nearly as strong in body as myself, and seemed filled with the devil. The next morning we met on our usual terms, but I judged it more delicate to withdraw, nor did he attempt to dissuade me. It was nine years before I revisited the neighbourhood. I travelled at that time, with a tilt-cart, a tent, and a cooking stove, tramping all day beside the wagon, and at night, whenever it was possible, gypsying in a cove of the hills or by the side of a wood. I believe I visited in this manner most of the wild and desolate regions both in England and Scotland, and, as I had neither friends nor relations, I was troubled with no correspondence and had nothing in the nature of headquarters, unless it was the office of my solicitors, from whom I drew my income twice a year. There was a life in which I delighted, and I fully thought to have grown old upon the march, and at last died in a ditch. It was my whole business to find desolate corners, where I could camp without the fear of interruption, and hence, being in another part of the same shire, I b'thought me suddenly of the pavilion on the links. No thoroughfare passed within three miles of it. The nearest town, and that was but a fisher village, was at a distance of six or seven. For ten miles of length, and from a depth varying from three miles to half a mile, this belt of bearing country lay along the sea. The beach, which was the natural approach, was full of quicksands. Indeed I may say there is hardly a better place of concealment in the United Kingdom. I determined to pass a week in the sea-wood of Great and Easter, and making a long stage reached it at about sundown on a wild September day. The country, I have said, was mixed sand-hills and links. Links, being a Scottish name for sand which has ceased drifting, and become more or less solidly covered with turf. The pavilion stood on an even space. A little behind it the wood began in a hedge of elders, huddled together by the wind. In front a few tumbled sand-hills stood between it and the sea. An outcropping of rock had formed a bastion for the sand, so that there was here a promontory in the coastline between two shallow bays. And just beyond the tides the rock again cropped out and formed an islet of small dimensions, but strikingly designed. The quicksands were of great extent at low water, and had an infamous reputation in the country. Close inshore, between the islet and the promontory, it was said they would swallow a man in four minutes and a half. But there may have been little ground for this precision. The district was alive with rabbits, and haunted by gulls which made a continual piping about the pavilion. On summer days the outlook was bright and even gladsome, but at sundown, in September, with a high wind and a heavy surf rolling in close along the links, the place told of nothing but dead mariners and sea disaster. A ship beating to windward on the horizon, and a huge truncheon of wreck half buried in the sands at my feet, completed the innuendo of the scene. The pavilion, that had been built by the last proprietor, Northmore's uncle, a silly and prodigal virtuoso, presented little signs of age. It was two stories in height, Italian in design, surrounded by a patch of garden in which nothing had prospered but a few coarse flowers, and looked, with its shuttered windows, not like a house that had been deserted, but like one that had never been tenanted by man. Northmore was plainly from home, whether, as usual, sulking in the cabin of his yacht, or in one of his fitful and extravagant appearances in the world of society, I had of course no means of guessing, the place had an air of solitude that daunted even a solitary like myself. The wind cried in the chimneys with a strange and wailing note, and it was with a sense of escape, as if I were going indoors, that I turned away and, driving my cart before me, entered the skirts of the wood. The sea-wood of Graydon had been planted to shelter the cultivated fields behind, and check the encroachments of the blowing sand. As you advanced into it from coastward, elders were succeeded by other hardy shrubs, but the timber was all stunted and bushy. It led a life of conflict. The trees were accustomed to swing there all night long in fierce winter tempests, and even in early spring the leaves were already flying, and autumn was beginning, in this exposed plantation. Inland the ground rose into a little hill, which, along with the islet, served as a sailing-mark for seamen. When the hill was open of the islet to the north, vessels must bear well to the eastward to clear Graydon Ness, and the Graydon Bullars. In the lower ground a streamlet ran along the trees, and, being dammed with dead leaves and clay of its own carrying, spread out every here and there, and lay in stagnant pools. One or two ruined cottages were dotted about the wood, and, according to Northmore, these were ecclesiastical foundations, and in their time had sheltered pious hermits. I found a den, or small hollow, where there was a spring of pure water, and there, clearing away the brambles, I pitched the tent, and made a fire to cook my supper. My horse I picketed farther in the woods where there was a patch of suard. The banks of the den not only concealed the light of my fire, but sheltered me from the wind, which was cold as well as high. The life I was leading made me both hearty and frugal. I never drank but water, and rarely eat anything more costly than oatmeal, and I required so little sleep that, although I rose with a peep of the day, I would often lie long awake in the dark or starry watches of the night. Thus ingrained in sea-wood, although I fell thankfully asleep by eight in the evening, I was awake again before eleven, with a full possession of my faculties, and no sense of drowsiness or fatigue. I rose, and set by the fire, watching the trees and clouds tumultuously tossing and fleeing overhead, and hearkening to the wind and the rollers along the shore. Till at length, growing weary of inaction, I quitted the den and strolled toward the borders of the wood. A young moon, buried in mist, gave a faint illumination to my steps, and the light grew brighter as I walked forth into the links. At the same moment the wind, smelling salt of the open ocean and carrying particles of sand, struck me with its full force, so that I had to bow my head. When I raised it again to look about me, I was aware of a light in the pavilion. It was not stationary, but passed from one window to another, as though some one were reviewing the different departments with a lamp or candle. I watched it for some seconds in great surprise. When I had arrived in the afternoon the house had been plainly deserted. Now it was as plainly occupied. It was my first idea that a gang of thieves might have broken in and be now ransacking Northmore's cupboards, which were many and not ill-supplied. But what should bring thieves at great an Easter? And, again, all the shutters had been thrown open, and it would have been more in the character of such gentry to close them. I dismissed the notion, and fell back upon another. Northmore himself must have arrived, and was now airing and inspecting the pavilion. I have said that there was no real affection between this man and me, but had I loved him like a brother, I was then so much more in love with solitude that I should nonetheless have shunned his company. As it was, I turned and ran for it, and it was with genuine satisfaction that I found myself safely back beside the fire. I had escaped in acquaintance. I should have one more night in comfort. In the morning I might either slip away before Northmore was abroad, or pay him as short a visit as I chose. But when morning came, I thought the situation so diverting that I forgot my shyness. Northmore was at my mercy. I arranged a good practical jest, though I knew well that my neighbour was not the man to jest with in security. And, chuckling beforehand over its success, took my place among the elders at the edge of the wood, whence I could command the door of the pavilion. The shutters were all once more closed, which I remembered thinking odd, and the house, with its white walls and green venetians, looked spruce and habitable in the morning light. Hour after hour passed, and still no sign of Northmore. I knew him for a sluggard in the morning, but as it drew on toward noon I lost my patience. To say the truth, I had promised myself to break my fast in the pavilion, and hunger began to prick me sharply. It was a pity to let the opportunity go by without some cause for mirth, but the grosser appetite prevailed, and I relinquished my jest with regret and sallied from the wood. The appearance of the house affected me as I drew near, with disquietude. It seemed unchanged since last evening, and I had expected it, I scarce knew why, to wear some external signs of habitation. But no, the windows were all closely shuttered, the chimneys breathed no smoke, and the front door itself was closely padlocked. Northmore, therefore, had entered by the back. This was the natural, and indeed, the necessary conclusion. And you may judge of my surprise when, on turning the house, I found the back door similarly secured. My mind at once reverted to the original theory of thieves, and I blamed myself sharply for my last night's inaction. I examined all the windows on the lower story, but none of them had been tampered with. I tried the padlocks, but they were both secure. It thus became a problem how the thieves, if thieves they were, had managed to enter the house. They must have got, I reasoned, upon the roof of the outer house where Northmore used to keep his photographic battery. And from thence, either by the window of the study, or that of my old bedroom, completed their bogarious entry. I followed what I supposed was their example, and, getting on the roof, tried the shutters of each room. Both were secure, but I was not to be beaten, and, with a little force, one of them flew open, grazing, as it did so, the back of my hand. I remember I put the wound to my mouth and stood for perhaps half a minute licking it like a dog, and mechanically gazing behind me over the waste links and the sea. And, in that space of time, my eye made note of a large schooner yacht some miles to the northeast. Then I threw up the window and climbed in. I went over the house, and nothing can express my mystification. There was no sign of disorder, but, on the contrary, the rooms were unusually clean and pleasant. I found fires laid ready for lighting. Three bedrooms prepared with a luxury quite foreign to Northmore's habits, and with water in the use and the beds turned down. A table set for three in the dining room, and an ample supply of cold meats, game, and vegetables on the pantry shelves. There were guests expected, and that was plain, but why guests when Northmore hated society? And, above all, why was the house thus stealthily prepared at the dead of night, and why were the shutters closed and the doors padlocked? I faced all traces of my visit and came forth from the window feeling sobered and concerned. The schooner yacht was still in the same place, and it flashed for a moment through my mind that this might be the Red Earl, bringing the owner of the pavilion and his guests. But the vessel's head was set the other way. Two. I returned to the den to cook myself a meal, of which I stood in great need, as well as to care for my horse, whom I had somewhat neglected in the morning. From time to time I went down to the edge of the wood, but there was no change in the pavilion, and not a human creature was seen all day upon the links. The schooner in the offing was the one touch of life within my range of vision. She, apparently with no set object, stood off and on, or lay to, hour after hour. But as the evening deepened, she drew steadily nearer, and I became more convinced that she carried Northmore and his friends, and that they would probably come ashore after dark, not only because that was of a peace with the secrecy of his preparations, but because the tide would not have flowed sufficiently before eleven to cover great inflow, and the other sea quags that fortify the shore against invaders. All day the wind had been going down, and the sea along with it, but there was a return towards sunset of the heavy weather of the day before. The night set in pitch dark, the wind came off the sea in squalls, like the firing of a battery of cannon, now and then there was a flaw of rain, and the surf rolled heavier with the rising tide. I was down at my observatory among the elders, when a light was run up to the mast head of the schooner, and showed she was closer in than when I had seen her by the dying daylight. I concluded that this must be a signal to Northmore's associates on shore, and, stepping forth into the links, looked around me for something in response. A small footpath ran along the margin of the wood and formed the most direct communication between the pavilion and the mansion house, and, as I cast my eyes to that side, I saw a spark of light, not a quarter of a mile away, and rapidly approaching. From its uneven course it appeared to be the light of a lantern carried by a person who followed the windings of the path, and was often staggered and taken aback by the more violent squalls. I concealed myself once more among the elders, and waited eagerly for the newcomer's advance. It proved to be a woman, and, as she passed with a half-rod of my ambush, I was able to recognize the features. The deaf and silent old Dane, who had nursed Northmore in his childhood, was his associate in this underhand affair. I followed her at a little distance, taking advantage of the innumerable heights and hollows concealed by the darkness, and favored not only by the nurse's deafness, but by the uproar of the wind and surf. She entered the pavilion, and, going at once to the upper story, opened and set a light in one of the windows that looked toward the sea. Immediately afterwards the light at the schooner's mast-head was run down and extinguished. Its purpose had been attained, and those on board were sure that they were expected. The old woman resumed her preparations, although the other shutters remained closed. I could see a glimmer going to and fro about the house, and a gush of sparks from one chimney after another soon told me that the fires were being kindled. Northmore and his guests, I was now persuaded, would come ashore as soon as there was water on the flow. It was a wild night for boat service, and I felt some alarm mingle with my curiosity as I reflected on the danger of the landing. My old acquaintance, it was true, was the most eccentric of men, but the present eccentricity was both disquieting and legubrious to consider. A variety of feelings thus led me towards the beach, where I lay flat on my face in a hollow within six feet of the track that led to the pavilion. Thence I should have the satisfaction of recognizing the arrivals, and, if they should prove to be acquaintances, greeting them as soon as they landed. Sometime before eleven, while the tide was still dangerously low, a boat's lantern appeared close inshore, and, my attention being thus awakened, I could perceive another still far to seaward, violently tossed and sometimes hidden by the billows. The weather, which was getting dirtier as the night went on, and the perilous situation of the yacht upon a lee shore, had probably driven them to attempt a landing at the earliest possible moment. A little afterwards, four yachtsmen carrying a very heavy chest, and guided by a fifth with a lantern, passed close in front of me as I lay, and were admitted to the pavilion by the nurse. Then they returned to the beach and passed me a third time with another chest, larger but apparently not so heavy as the first. A third time they made the transit, and on this occasion one of the yachtsmen carried a leather portman too, and the other a lady's trunk and carriage bag. My curiosity was sharply excited. If a woman were among the guests of Northmore, it would show a change in his habits, and an apostasy from his pet theories of life, well calculated to fill me with surprise. When he and I dwelt there together, the pavilion had been a temple of misogyny, and now one of the detested sex was to be installed under its roof. I remembered one or two particulars, a few notes of daintiness, and almost coquetry which had struck me the day before as I surveyed the preparations in the house. Their purpose was now clear, and I thought myself dull not to have perceived it from the first. While I was thus reflecting, a second lantern drew near me from the beach. It was carried by a yachtsman whom I had not yet seen, and who was conducting two other persons to the pavilion. These two persons were unquestionably the guests for whom the house was made ready, and, straining eye and ear, I set myself to watch them as they passed. One was an unusually tall man in a travelling hat slouched over his eyes, and a highland cape closely buttoned and turned up so as to conceal his face. You could make out no more of him than that he was, as I have said, unusually tall, and walked feebly with a heavy stoop. By his side, and either clinging to him or giving him support, I could not make out which, was a young, tall, and slender figure of a woman. She was extremely pale, but in the light of the lantern her face was so marred by strong and changing shadows that she might equally well have been as ugly as sin, or as beautiful as I afterwards found her to be. When they were just abreast of me the girl made some remark which was drowned by the noise of the wind. Hush, said her companion, and there was something in the tone with which the word was uttered that thrilled and rather shook my spirits. It seemed to breathe from a bosom laboring under the deadliest tear. I had never heard another syllable so expressive, and I still hear it again when I am feverish at night, and my mind runs upon old times. The man turned toward the girl as he spoke. I had a glimpse of a much red beard and a nose which seemed to have been broken in youth, and his night eyes seemed shining in his face with some strong and unpleasant emotion. But these two passed on and were admitted in their turn to the pavilion. One by one, or in groups, the seamen returned to the beach. The wind brought me the sound of a rough voice crying, shavoff. Then, after a pause, another lantern drew near. It was Northmore alone. My wife and I, a man and a woman, have often agreed to wonder how a person could be, at the same time, so handsome and so repulsive as Northmore. He had the appearance of a finished gentleman. His face bore every mark of intelligence and courage, but you had only to look at him, even in his most amiable moment, to see that he had the temper of a slaver-captain. I never knew a character that was both explosive and revengeful to the same degree. He combined the vivacity of the South with the sustained and deadly hatreds of the North, and both traits were plainly written on his face, which was a sort of danger signal. In person, he was tall, strong and active, his hair and complexion very dark, his features handsomely designed, but spoiled by a menacing expression. At that moment he was somewhat paler than by nature. He wore a heavy frown, and his lips worked, and he looked sharply round him as he walked, like a man besieged with apprehensions. And yet I thought he had a look of triumph underlying all, as though he had already done much and was near the end of an achievement. Partly from a scruple of delicacy, which I dare say came too late, partly from the pleasure of startling an acquaintance, I desired to make my presence known to him without delay. I got suddenly to my feet and stepped forward. Northmore, said I, I have never had so shocking a surprise in all my days. He leaped on me without a word, something shone in his hand, and he struck from my heart with a dagger. At the same moment I knocked him head over heels. Whether it was my quickness or his own uncertainty, I know not, but the blade only grazed my shoulder while the hilt and his fist struck me violently on the mouth. I fled, but not far. I had often and often observed the capabilities of the sandhills for protracted ambush or stealthy advances and retreats, and, not ten yards from the scene of the scuffle, plumped down again upon the grass. The lantern had fallen and gone out. But what was my astonishment to see Northmore slip at a bound into the pavilion and hear him bar the door behind him with a clang of iron? He had not pursued me. He had run away. Northmore, whom I knew for the most implacable and daring of men, had run away. I could scarce believe my reason, and yet, in this strange business, where all was incredible, there was nothing to make a work about in an credibility more or less. For why was the pavilion secretly prepared? Why had Northmore landed with his guests at dead of night in half a gale's wind and with the flow scarce covered? Why had he sought to kill me? Had he not recognized my voice? I wondered. And, above all, how had he come to have a dagger ready in his hand? A dagger, or even a sharp knife, seemed out of keeping with the age in which we lived, and a gentleman landing from his yacht on the shore of his own estate, even although it was at night and with some mysterious circumstances, does not usually, as a matter of fact, walk thus prepared for deadly onslaught. The more I reflected, the further I felt at sea. I recapitulated the elements of mystery, counting them on my fingers. The pavilion secretly prepared for guests. The guests landed at the risk of their lives and to the imminent peril of the yacht. The guests, or at least one of them, in undisguised and seemingly causeless terror. Northmore with a naked weapon. Northmore stabbing his most intimate acquaintance at a word. Last, and not least strange, Northmore fleeing from the man whom he had sought to murder, barricading himself, like a hunted creature, behind the door of the pavilion. Here were at least six separate causes for extreme surprise, each part and parcel with the others, and forming altogether one consistent story. I felt almost ashamed to believe my own senses. As I thus stood, transfixed with wonder, I began to grow painfully conscious of the injuries I had received in the scuffle. Sculpt round among the sandhills, and, by a devious path, regained the shelter of the wood. On the way, the old nurse passed again within several yards of me, still carrying her lantern on the return journey to the mansion house of Graydon. This made a seventh suspicious feature in the case. Northmore and his guests, it appeared, were to cook and do the cleaning for themselves while the old woman continued to inhabit the big empty barrack among the policies. There must surely be great cause for secrecy when so many inconveniences were confronted to preserve it. So thinking, I made my way to the den. For greater security, I trod out the embers of the fire and lighted my lantern to examine the wound upon my shoulder. It was a trifling hurt, although it bled somewhat freely, and I dressed it as well as I could, for its position made it difficult to reach, with some rag and cold water from the spring. While I was thus busied, I mentally declared war against Northmore and his mystery. I am not an angry man by nature, and I believe there was more curiosity than resentment in my heart. But war I certainly declared, and, by way of preparation, I got out my revolver, and, having drawn the charges, cleaned and reloaded it with scrupulous care. Next I became preoccupied about my horse, it might break loose or fall to name, and so betray my camp in the sea-wood. I determined to rid myself of its neighborhood, and long before dawn I was leading it over the links in the direction of the Fisher Village. Three. For two days I sulked round the pavilion, profiting by the uneven surface of the links. I became an adept in the necessary tactics. These low hillocks and shallow dells, running one into another, became a kind of cloak of darkness for my enthralling, but perhaps dishonorable, pursuit. Yet, in spite of this advantage, I could learn but little of Northmore or his guests. Fresh provisions were brought under cover of darkness by the old woman from the mansion-house. Northmore and the young lady, sometimes together, but more often singly, were an hour or two at a time on the beach beside the quicksand. I could not but conclude that this promenade was chosen with an eye to secrecy, for the spot was open only to seaward. But it suited me not less excellently, the highest and most accidented of the sandhills immediately joined, and from these, lying flat in a hollow, I could overlook Northmore or the young lady as they walked. The tall man seemed to have disappeared. Not only did he never cross the threshold, but he never so much as showed face at a window, or, at least, not so far as I could see. For I dared not creep forward beyond a certain distance in the day, since the upper floors commanded the bottoms of the links, and at night, when I could venture further, the lower windows were barricaded as if to stand a siege. Sometimes I thought the tall man must be confined to bed, for I remembered the feebleness of his gate, and sometimes I thought he must have gone clear away, and that Northmore and the young lady remained alone together in the pavilion. The idea, even then, displeased me. Whether or not this pair were man and wife, I had seen abundant reason to doubt the friendliness of their relation. Although I could hear nothing of what they said, and rarely so much as glean a decided expression on the face of either, there was a distance, almost a stiffness, to their bearing which showed them to be either unfamiliar or at enmity. The girl walked faster when she was with Northmore than when she was alone, and I conceived that any inclination between a man and a woman would rather delay than accelerate the step. Moreover, she kept a good yard free of him and trailed her umbrella, as if it were a barrier on the side between them. Northmore kept sidling closer, and, as the girl retired from his advance, their coarse lay at a sort of diagonal across the beach and would have landed them in the surf had it been long enough continued. But when this was imminent, the girl would un ostentatiously change sides and put Northmore between her and the sea. I watched these maneuvers, for my part, with high enjoyment and approval, and chuckled to myself at every move. On the morning of the third day she walked alone for some time, and I perceived, to my great concern, that she was more than once in tears. You will see that my heart was already interested more than I supposed. She had a firm yet airy motion of the body and carried her head with unimaginable grace. Every step was a thing to look at, and she seemed in my eyes to breathe sweetness and distinction. The day was so agreeable, being calm and sunshiny, with a tranquil sea, and yet with a healthful poquancy and vigor in the air, contrary to custom, she was tempted forth a second time to walk. On this occasion she was accompanied by Northmore, and they had been but a short while on the beach, when I saw him take forcible possession of her hand. She struggled and uttered a cry that was almost a scream. I sprung to my feet, unmindful of my strange position, but, ere I had taken a step, I saw Northmore bare-headed and bowing very low, as if to apologize, and dropped again at once into my ambush. A few words were interchanged, and then, with another bow, he left from the beach to return to the pavilion. He passed not far from me, and I could see him, flushed and lowering, and cutting savagely with his cane among the grass. It was not without satisfaction that I recognized my own handiwork in a great cut under his right eye and a considerable discoloration round the socket. For some time the girl remained where he had left her, looking out past the islet over the bright sea. Then, with a start, as one who throws off preoccupation and puts energy again upon its meadow, she broke into a rapid and decisive walk. She also was much incensed by what had passed. She had forgotten where she was, and I beheld her walk straight into the borders of the quicksand, where it is most abrupt and dangerous. Two or three steps further and her life would have been in serious jeopardy, when I slid down the face of the sand hill, which is there, precipitous, and, running half-way forward, called to her to stalk. She did so, and turned round. There was not a tremor of fear in her behavior, and she marched directly up to me like a queen. I was barefoot and clad like a common sailor, save for an Egyptian scarf round my waist, and she probably took me at first for someone from the Fisher Village, straying after bait. As for her, when I thus saw her face to face, her eyes set steadily and imperiously upon mine, I was filled with admiration and astonishment, and thought her even more beautiful than I had looked to find her. Nor could I think enough of one who, acting with so much boldness, yet preserved a maidenly air that was both quaint and engaging, for my wife kept an old-fashioned precision of manner through all her admirable life, an excellent thing in a woman, since it sets another value on her sweet familiarities. What does this mean? she asked. You were walking, I told her, directly in degrade and flow. You do not belong to these parts, she said again. You speak like an educated man. I believe I have a right to that name, said I, although in this disguise. But her woman's eyes had already detected the sash. Oh, she said, your sash betrays you. You have said the word betray, I resume. May I ask you not to betray me? I was obliged to disclose myself in your interest, but if Northmore had learned my presence, it might be worse than disagreeable for me. Do you know, she asked, to whom you are speaking? Not to Mr. Northmore's wife, I asked by way of answer. She shook her head, all this while she was studying my face with an embarrassing intentness. Then she broke out. You have an honest face. Honest like your face, sir, and tell me what you want and what you are afraid of. Do you think I could hurt you? I believe you have far more power to injure me. And yet you do not look unkind. What do you mean, you, a gentleman, by skulking like a spy about this desolate place? Tell me, she said. Who is it you hate? I hate no one, I answered, and I fear no one face to face. My name is Casalus, Frank Casalus. I lead the life of a vagabond for my own good pleasure. I am one of Northmore's oldest friends, and three nights ago, when I addressed him on these links, he stabbed me in the shoulder with a knife. It was you, she said. Why he did so, I continued, disregarding the interruption, is more than I can guess, and more than I care to know. I have not many friends, nor am I very susceptible to friendship, but no man shall drive me from a place by terror. I had camped in the grade in Seawood, ere he came. I camp in it still. If you think I mean harm to you or yours, madam, the remedy is in your hand. Tell him that my camp is in Hemlock Den, and tonight he can stab me in safety while I sleep. With this I doffed my cap to her, and scrambled up once more among the sandhills. I do not know why, but I felt a prodigious sense of injustice, and felt like a hero and a martyr. While, as a matter of fact, I had not a word to say in my defence, nor so much as one plausible reason to offer for my conduct. I had stayed at grade in out of a curiosity natural enough, but undignified, and though there was another motive growing in along with the first, it was not one which, at that period, I could have properly explained to the lady of my heart. Certainly, that night, I thought of no one else, and though her whole conduct and position seemed suspicious, I could not find it in my heart to entertain a doubt of her integrity. I could have staked my life that she was clear of blame, and, though all was dark at the present, that the explanation of the mystery would show her part in these events to be both right and needful. It was true, let me cudgel my imagination as I pleased, that I could invent no theory of her relations to Northmore, but I felt none the less sure of my conclusion, as it was founded on instinct in place of reason, and, as I may say, went to sleep that night with the thought of her under my pillow. Next day she came out about the same hour alone, and as soon as the sandhills concealed her from the pavilion, drew nearer to the edge and called me by name in guarded tones. I was astonished to observe that she was deadly pale and seemingly under the influence of strong emotion. Mr. Casalus! she cried. Mr. Casalus! I peered at once and leaped down upon the beach. A remarkable air of relief overspread her countenance as soon as she saw me. Oh! she cried with a hoarse sound, like one whose bosom had been lightened of a weight, and then, Thank God you were still safe! she added. I knew if you were you would be here. Was this not strange? So swiftly and wisely does nature prepare our hearts for these great lifelong intimacies that both my wife and I had been given a presentiment on this the second day of our acquaintance. I had even then hoped that she would seek me. She had felt sure that she would find me. Do not, she went on swiftly, do not stay in this place. Promise me that you will sleep no longer in that wood. You do not know how I suffer. All this night I could not sleep for thinking of your peril. Peril, I repeated. Peril from whom? from Northmore? Not so, she said. Do you think I would tell him after what you said? Not from Northmore, I repeated. Then how? from whom? I see none to be afraid of. You must not ask me, was her reply. For I am not free to tell you. Only believe me and go hence. Believe me and go away quickly, quickly for your life. An appeal to his alarm is never a good plan to rid oneself of a spirited young man. My obstinacy was but increased by what she said, and I made it a point of honour to remain. And her solicitude for my safety still more confirmed me in the resolve. You must not think me inquisitive, madam, I replied. But if Graydon is so dangerous a place, you yourself perhaps remain here at some risk. She only looked at me reproachfully. You and your father, I resumed, but she interrupted me almost with a gasp. My father, how do you know that, she cried. I saw you together when you landed, was my answer. And I do not know why, but it seemed satisfactory to both of us, as indeed it was the truth. But, I continued, you need have no fear from me. I see that you have some reason to be secret, and you may believe me, your secret is as safe with me as if I were in Graydon flow. I have scarcely spoken to anyone for years. My horse is my only companion, and even he, poor beast, does not beside me. You see, then, you may count on me for silence. So tell me the truth, my dear young lady, are you not in danger? Mr. Northmore says you are an honourable man, she returned, and I believe it when I see you. I will tell you so much. You are right, we are in dreadful, dreadful danger, and you share it by remaining where you are. Ah, said I, you have heard of me from Northmore, and he gives me a good character. I asked him about you last night, was her reply. I pretended, she hesitated, I pretended to have met you long ago, and spoken to you of him. It was not true, but I could not help myself without betraying you, and you had put me in a difficulty. He praised you highly. And you may permit me one question. Does this danger come from Northmore? I asked. From Mr. Northmore, she cried, Oh no, he stays with us to share it. While you propose that I should run away, I said, You do not rate me very high. Why should you stay? she asked. You are no friend of ours. I know not what came over me, for I had not been conscious of a similar weakness since I was a child, but I was so mortified by this retort that my eyes pricked and filled with tears as I continued to gaze upon her face. No, no, she said in a changed voice. I did not mean the word so unkindly. It was I who offended, I said, and I held out my hand with a look of appeal that somehow touched her, for she gave me hers at once, and even eagerly. I held it for a while in mine, and gazed into her eyes. It was she who first tore her hand away, and, forgetting all about her requests and the promise she had sought to exhort, ran at the top of her speed and without turning till she was out of sight. And then I knew that I loved her, and thought in my heart that she, she herself, was not indifferent to my suit. Many a time as she denied it in after-days, but it was with a smiling and not a serious denial. For my part I am sure our hands would not have lain so closely in each other if she had not begun to melt to me already, and when all is said it is no great contention since by her own avowal she began to love me on the morrow. And yet on the morrow very little took place. She came and called me down as on the day before, upgraded me for lingering at Graydon, and, when she found I was still obdurant, began to ask me more particularly as to my arrival. I told her by what series of accidents I had come to witness their disembarkation and how I had determined to remain, partly from the interest which had been awakened in me by Northmore's guests and partly because of his own murderous attack. As to the former I fear I was disingenuous and led her to regard herself as having been an attraction to me from the first moment that I saw her on the links. It relieves my heart to make this confession even now when my wife is with God and already knows all things and the honesty of my purpose even in this. For while she lived, although it often pricked my conscience, I had never the hardy-hood to undeceive her, even a little secret, in such a married life as ours, is like the rose-leave which kept the princess from her sleep. From this the talk branched into other subjects and I told her much about my lonely and wandering existence. She, for her part, giving ear and saying little. Although we spoke very naturally and laterally on topics that might seem indifferent, we were both sweetly agitated. Too soon it was time for her to go and we separated, as if by mutual consent, without shaking hands, for both knew that, between us, it was no idle ceremony. The next, and that was the fourth day of our acquaintance, we met in the same spot but early in the morning, with much familiarity and yet much timidity on either side. While she had once more spoken about my danger and that, I understood, was her excuse for coming, I, who had prepared a great deal of talk during the night, began to tell her how highly I valued her kind interest and how no one had ever cared to hear about my life nor had I ever cared to relate it before yesterday. She interrupted me, saying with vehemence, and yet, if you knew who I was, you would not so much as speak to me. I told her such a thought was madness and, little as we had met, I counted her already a dear friend, but my protestations seemed only to make her more desperate. My father is in hiding, she cried. My dear, said I, forgetting for the first time to add young lady, what do I care? If I were in hiding twenty times over, would it make one thought of change in you? Ah, but the cause, she cried, the cause, it is... She faltered for a second. It is disgraceful to us. End of Section 14 Section 15 of Library of the World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 2 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 Marianne. Library of the World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 2 by Julian Hawthorne, Editor. Section 15 The Pavilion on the Links by Robert Louis Stevenson, Part 2 4 This was my wife's story as I drew it from her among tears and sobs. Her name was Clara Huddlestone. It sounded very beautiful in my ears, but not so beautiful as that other name of Clara Casalus, which she wore during the longer end, I thank God, the happier portion of her life. Her father, Bernard Huddlestone, had been a private banker in a very large way of business. Many years before, his affairs becoming disordered, he had been led to try dangerous and at last criminal expedience to retrieve himself from ruin. All was in vain. He became more and more cruelly involved and found his honor lost at the same moment with his fortune. About this period, Northmore had been courting his daughter with great assiduity, though with small encouragement, and to him, knowing him thus disposed in his favor, Bernard Huddlestone turned for help in his extremity. It was not merely ruin and dishonor, nor merely a legal condemnation that the unhappy man had brought upon his head. It seemed he could have gone to prison with a light heart. What he feared, what kept him awake at night or recalled him from slumber into frenzy, was some secret, sudden and unlawful attempt on his life. Hence he desired to bury his existence and escape to one of the islands in the South Pacific, and it was in Northmore's yacht, the Red Earl, that he designed to go. The yacht picked them up clandestinely upon the coast of Wales and had once more deposited them at Graydon till she could be refitted and provisioned for the longer voyage. Nor could Claire a doubt that her hand had been stipulated as the price of passage, for, although Northmore was neither unkind nor even discourteous, he had shown himself in several instances somewhat over-boldened in speech and manner. I listened, I need not say, with fixed attention and put many questions as to the more mysterious part. It was in vain. She had no clear idea of what the blow was, nor of how it was expected to fall. Her father's alarm was unfaigned and physically prostrating, and he had thought more than once of making an unconditional surrender to the police. But the scheme was finally abandoned for he was convinced that not even the strength of our English prisons could shelter him from his pursuers. He had had many affairs in Italy, with Italians resident in London, in the later years of his business, and these last, as Claire fancied, were somehow connected with the doom that threatened him. He had shown great terror at the presence of an Italian scammon on board the Red Earl and had bitterly and repeatedly accused Northmore in consequence. The latter had protested that Beppo, that was the seaman's name, was a capital fellow and could be trusted to the death, but Mr. Huddleston had continued ever since to declare that all was lost, that it was only a question of days and that Beppo would be the ruin of him yet. I regarded the whole story as the hallucination of a mind shaken by calamity. He had suffered heavy loss by his Italian transactions, and hence the sight of an Italian was hateful to him, and the principal part in his nightmare would naturally enough be played by one of that nation. What your father wants, I said, is a good doctor and some calming medicine. But Mr. Northmore, objected Clara, he is untroubled by losses, and yet he shares in this terror. I could not help laughing at what I considered her simplicity. My dear, said I, you have told me yourself what reward he has to look for. All is fair in love, you must remember, and if Northmore foments your father's tears, it is not at all because he is afraid of any Italian man, but simply because he is infatuated with a charming English woman. She reminded me of his attack upon myself on the night of the disembarkation, and this I was unable to explain. In short, and from one thing to another, it was agreed between us that I should set out at once for the Fisher Village, great in Wester, as it was called, to look up all the newspapers I could find myself if there seemed any basis of fact for these continued alarms. The next morning, at the same hour in place, I was to make my report to Clara. She said no more on that occasion about my departure, nor, indeed, did she make it a secret that she clung to the thought of my proximity as something helpful and pleasant. And, for my part, I could not have left her if she had gone upon her knees to ask it. I reached great in Wester before ten in the forenoon, and in those days I was an excellent pedestrian, and the distance, as I think I have said, was little over seven miles, fine walking all the way upon the springy turf. The village is one of the bleakest on the coast, which is saying much. There is a church in the Hollow, a miserable haven in the rocks, where many boots have been lost as they returned from fishing, two or three score of stone houses arranged along the beach and in two streets, one leading from the harbor and another striking out from it at right angles. And, at the corner of these two, a very dark and cheerless tavern by way of principal hotel. I had dressed myself somewhat more suitably to my station in life, and at once called upon the minister in his little manse beside the graveyard. He knew me, although it was more than nine years since we had met, and when I told him that I had been long upon a walking tour and was behind with the news, readily lent me an armful of newspapers, waiting from a month back to the day before. With these I sought the tavern and, ordering some breakfast, sat down to study the Huddleston failure. It had been, it appeared, a very flagrant case. Thousands of persons were reduced to poverty, and one in particular had blown out his brains as soon as payment was suspended. It was strange to myself that, while I read these details, I continued rather to sympathize with Mr. Huddleston, rather than his victims. So complete already was the empire of my love for my wife. A price was naturally set upon the banker's head, and, as the case was inexcusable and the public indignation thoroughly aroused, the unusual figure of seven hundred and fifty pounds was offered for his capture. He was reported to have large sums of money in his possession. One day he had been heard of in Spain. The next there was sure intelligence that he was still lurking between Manchester and Liverpool, or along the border of Wales, and the day after a telegram would announce his arrival in Cuba or Yucatan. But in all this there was no word of an Italian nor any sign of mystery. In the very last paper, however, there was one item not so clear. The accountants who were charged to verify the failure had, it seemed, come upon the traces of a very large number of thousands, which figured for some time in the transactions of the House of Huddleston, but which came from nowhere and disappeared in the same mysterious fashion. It was only once referred to by name and then under the initials XX, but it had plainly been floated for the first time into the business at a period of great depression some six years ago. The name of a distinguished royal personage had been mentioned by rumour in connection with this sum. The cowardly desperado, such, I remember, was the editorial expression, was supposed to have escaped with a large part of this mysterious fund still in his possession. I was still brooding over the fact, and trying to torture it into some connection with Mr. Huddleston's daughter, when a man entered the tavern and asked for some bread and cheese with a decided foreign accent. Cite a tariano, said I? Si senor, was his reply. I said it was unusual far north to find one of his compatriots at which he shrugged his shoulders and replied that a man would go anywhere to find work. What work he could hope to find at Great and Wester, I was totally unable to conceive, and the incidents struck so unpleasantly upon my mind that I asked the landlord, while he was seen counting me some change, whether he had ever before seen an Italian in the village. He said he had once seen some Norwegians who had been shipwrecked on the other side of Great and Ness and rescued by the lifeboat from Caldhaven. No, said I, but an Italian, like the man who has just had bread and cheese. What? cried he, young black-avised fellow with the teeth? Was he an Italian? Well, young's the first that I ever saw, and I dare say he's liked to be the last. Even as he was speaking, I raised my eyes and, casting a glance into the street, beheld three men in earnest conversation together, not thirty yards away. One of them was my recent companion in the tavern parlor, the other two, by their handsome, sallow features and soft hats, should evidently belong to the same race. A crowd of village children stood around them, gesticulating and talking gibberish in imitation. The trio looked singularly foreign to the bleak, dirty street in which they were standing, and the dark gray heaven that overspread them, and I confess my incredulity received at that moment a shock from which it never recovered. I might reason with myself as I pleased, but I could not argue down the effect of what I had seen, and I began to share in the Italian terror. It was already drawing toward the close of day before I returned the newspapers to the mants and got well forward on to the links on my way home. I shall never forget that walk. It grew very cold and boisterous. The wind sung in the short grass about my feet. Thin rain showers came running on the gusts, and an immense mountain range of clouds began to arise out of the bosom of the sea. It would be hard to imagine a more dismal evening, and whether it was from these external influences, or because my nerves were already affected by what I had heard and seen, my thoughts were as gloomy as the weather. The upper windows of the pavilion commanded a considerable spread of links in the direction of Great and Wester. To avoid observation it was necessary to hug the beach until I had gained cover from the higher sandhills on the little headland when I might strike a cross through the hollows for the margin of the wood. The sun was about setting, the tide was low, and all the quicksands uncovered, and I was moving along lost in unpleasant thoughts when I was suddenly thunderstruck to perceive the prints of human feet. They ran parallel to my own course, but low down upon the beach instead of along the border of the turf, and when I examined them I saw it once by the size and coarseness of the impression that it was a stranger to me and to those of the pavilion who had recently passed that way. Not only so, but from the recklessness of the course which he had followed, steering near to the most formidable portions of the sand, he was evidently a stranger to the country and to the ill repute of Great and Beach. Step by step I followed the prints until a quarter of a mile further I beheld them die away to the southeastern boundary of Great and Flow. There, whoever he was, the miserable man had perished. One or two gulls, who had perhaps seen him disappear, wheeled over his sepulchre with their usual melancholy piping. The sun had broken through the clouds by a last effort and colored the wide level of quicksands with a dusky purple. I stood for some time gazing at the spot, chilled and disheartened by my own reflections, with a strong and commanding consciousness of death. I remember wondering how long the tragedy had taken and whether his screams had been audible at the pavilion. And then, making a strong resolution, I was about to tear myself away when a gust fiercer than usual fell upon this quarter of the beach, and I saw, now whirling high in the air, now skimming lightly across the surface of the sands, a soft, black felt hat, somewhat conical in shape, such as I had remarked already on the heads of the Italians. I believe, but I am not sure, that I uttered a cry. The wind was driving the hat shoreward, and I ran round the border of the flow to be ready against its arrival. The gust fell, dropping the hat for a while upon the quicksand, and then, once more freshening, landed it a few yards from where I stood. I seized it with the interest you may imagine. It had seen some service. Indeed, it was rustier than either of those I had seen that day upon the street. The lining was red, stamped with the name of the maker, which I have forgotten, and that of the place of its manufacture, Venedig. This, it is not yet forgotten, was the name given by the Austrians to the beautiful city of Venice, then and for a long time after, a part of their dominions. The shock was complete. I saw imaginary Italians upon every side, and for the first, and I may say, for the last time in my experience, I became overpowered by what is called a panic terror. I knew nothing, that is, to be afraid of, and yet I admit that I was heartily afraid, and it was with sensible reluctance that I returned to my exposed and solitary camp in the sea-wood. There I ate some cold porridge which had been left over from the night before, for I was disinclined to make a fire, and, feeling strengthened and reassured, dismissed all these fanciful tears from my mind and lay down to sleep with composure. How long I may have slept it is impossible for me to guess, but I was awakened at last by a sudden, blinding flash of light into my face. It woke me like a blow. In an instant I was upon my knees, but the light had gone as suddenly as it came. The darkness was intense, and, as it was blowing great guns from the sea, and pouring with rain, the noises of the storm effectually concealed all others. It was, I dare say, half a minute before I regained my self-possession. But for two circumstances I should have thought I had been awakened by some new and vivid form of nightmare. First, the flap of my tent, which I had shut carefully when I retired, was now unfastened, and second, I could still perceive with a sharpness that excluded any theory of hallucination the smell of hot metal and of burning oil. The conclusion was obvious. I had been awakened by someone flashing a bull's eye lantern in my face. It had then bought a flash and away. He had seen my face and then gone. I asked myself the object of so strange a proceeding, and the answer came pat. The man, whoever he was, had thought to recognize me, and he had not. There was another question unresolved, and to this, I may say, I feared to give an answer. If he had recognized me, what would he have done? My fears were immediately diverted from myself, for I saw that I had been visited in a mistake, and I became persuaded that some dreadful danger threatened the pavilion. It required some nerve to issue forth into the black and intricate thicket which surrounded and overhung the den. But I groped my way to the links, drenched with rain, beaten upon and deafened by the gusts, and fearing at every step to lay my hand upon some lurking adversary. The darkness was so complete that I might have been surrounded by an army and yet none the wiser, and the uproar of the gale so loud that my hearing was as useless as my sight. For the rest of that night, which seemed interminably long, I patrolled the vicinity of the pavilion without seeing a living creature or hearing any noise but the concert of the wind, the sea, and the rain. A light in the upper story filtered through a cranny of the shutter and kept me company till the approach of dawn. With the first peep of day I retired from the open to my old lair among the sandhills, there to await the coming of my wife. The morning was gray, wild and melancholy. The rain had faded before sunrise and then went about and blew in puffs from the shore. The sea began to go down but the rain still fell without mercy. Over all the wilderness of lengths there was not a creature to be seen. Yet I felt sure the neighborhood was alive with skulking foes. The light that had been so suddenly and surprisingly flashed upon my face as I lay sleeping and the hat that had been blown ashore by the wind from overgrade and flow were two speaking signals of the peril that environed Clara and the party in the pavilion. It was perhaps half past seven or near eight before I saw the door open and that deer figure come toward me in the rain. I was waiting for her on the beach before she had crossed the sandhills. I have had such trouble to come, she cried. They did not wish me to go walking in the rain. Clara, I said, you are not frightened. No, said she with a simplicity that filled my heart with confidence. For my wife was the bravest as well as the best of women. In my experience I have not found the two go always together, but with her they did. And she combined the extreme afforditude with the most endearing and beautiful virtues. I told her what had happened and, though her cheek grew visibly paler, she retained perfect control over her senses. You see now that I am safe, but I, in conclusion, they do not mean to harm me, for had they chosen, I was a dead man last night. She laid her hand upon my arm and I had no resentment, she cried. Her accent thrilled me with delight. I put my arm about her and strained her to my side and before either of us was aware her hands were on my shoulders and my lips upon her mouth. Yet up to that moment I remember the touch of her cheek which was wet and cold with the rain and many a time since when she has been washing her face I have kissed it again for the sake of that morning on the beach. Now that she has taken from me and I finish my pilgrimage alone I recall our all loving kindnesses and the deep honesty and affection which united us and my present loss seems but a trifle in comparison. We may have thus stood for some seconds quickly with lovers before we were startled by a peel of laughter close at hand. It was not natural mirth but seemed to be affected in order to conceal an angrier feeling. We both turned though I still kept my left arm about Claire's waist nor did she seek to withdraw herself and there a few paces off upon the beach stood Northmore his head lowered, his hands behind his back, ah, castellus he said as I disclosed my face. That same said I for I was not at all put about and so Miss Huddlestone he continued slowly but savagely this is how you keep your faith to your father and to me this is the value you set upon your father's life and are you so infatuated with this young gentleman that you must brave ruin and decency and common human caution Miss Huddlestone I was beginning to interrupt him when he in turn cut in brutally you hold your tongue said he I'm speaking to that girl that girl as you call her is my wife said I and my wife only leaned a little near so that I knew she had affirmed my words your what he cried you lie Northmore said I we all know you have a bad temper you ask man to be irritated by words for all that I propose that you speak lower for I'm convinced that we are not alone he looked round him and it was plain that my remark had in some degree sobered his passion what do you mean he asked I said only one word Italians he swore a round oath and looked at us from one to the other Mr. Castellus knows all that I know said my wife he broke out is where the devil Mr. Castellus comes from and what the devil Mr. Castellus is doing here you say you are married that I do not believe if you were great and flow would soon divorce you four minutes and a half Castellus I keep my private cemetery for my friends it took somewhat longer said I for that Italian he looked at me for a moment half daunted and then almost civilly asked me to tell my story you have too much the advantage of me Castellus he added I complied of course and he listened with several ejaculations while I told him how I had come to Graden and that it was I whom he had tried to murder on the night of landing and what I had subsequently seen and heard of the Italians well said he when I had done it is here at last there is no mistake about that and what may I ask do you propose to do I propose to stay with you you are a brave man he returned with a peculiar intonation I am not afraid said I and so he continued I am to understand that you two are married and you stand up to it before my face Miss Huddleston we are not yet married said Clara but we shall be as soon as we can Bravo! cried Northmore and the bargain damn it you are not a fool young woman I may call a spade a spade with you how about the bargain you know as well as I do what your father's life depends upon I've only to put my hands under my coattails and walk away and his throat would be cut before evening yes Mr. Northmore returned Clara with great spirit but that is what you will never do you made a bargain that was unworthy of a gentleman but you are a gentleman for all that and you will never desert a man whom you have begun to help aha! said he you think I will give my yacht for nothing you think I will risk my life and liberty for love of the old gentleman and then I suppose be best man at the wedding to wind up well he added with an odd smile perhaps you are not altogether wrong but ask Casalus here he knows me am I a man to trust am I safe and scrupulous am I kind I know you talk a great deal I foolishly replied Clara but I know you are a gentleman and I am not the least afraid he looked at her with a peculiar approval and admiration then turning to me do you think I would give her up without a struggle Frank said he I tell you plainly you look out the next time we come to blows we'll make the third I interrupted smiling I true so it will he said I had forgotten well the third time's lucky the third time you mean you will have the crew of the Red Earl to help you I said do you hear him he asked turning to my wife I hear two men speaking like cowards said she I should despise myself either to think or speak like that and neither of you believe one word that you are saying which makes it the more wicked and silly she's a tramp quite northmore but she's not yet Mrs. Casalus or the present is not for me then my wife surprised me I leave you here she said suddenly my father has been too long alone but remember this you are to be friends for you are both good friends to me she has since told me her reason for this step as long as she remained she declares that we too would have continued to quarrel and I suppose that she was right for when she was gone we fell at once into a sort of confidentiality northmore stared after her as she went away over the sand hill she is the only woman in the world he exclaimed with an oath look at her action I for my part leaped at this opportunity for a little further light see here northmore said I we are all in a tight place are we not I believe you my boy he answered looking me in the eyes and with great emphasis we have all hell upon us that's the truth you may believe me or not I'm afraid of my life tell me one thing said I what are they after these Italians what do they want with Mr. Huddleston don't you know he cried the black old scamp had carbonari funds on a deposit two hundred and eighty thousand and of course he gambled it away on stocks there was to have been a revolution in the tridentino or parma but the revolution is off and the whole wasps nest is after Huddleston we shall all be lucky if we can save our skins the carbonari exclaimed God help him indeed amen said northmore and now look here I have said that we are in a fix and frankly I shall be glad of your help if I can't save Huddleston I want at least to save the girl come and stay in the pavilion and there's my hand on it I shall act as your friend until the old man is either clear or dead but he added once that he settled you become my rival once again and I warn you mind yourself done said I and we shook hands and now let us go directly to the fort said northmore and he began to lead the way through the rain six we were admitted to the pavilion by Clara and I was surprised by the completeness and security of the defenses a barricade of great strength and yet easy to displace supported the door against any violence and the shutters of the dining-room into which I was led directly and which was feebly illuminated by a lamp were even more elaborately fortified the panels were strengthened by bars and cross-bars and these in their turn were kept in position by a system of braces and struts some abutting on the floor some on the roof and others in fine against the opposite wall of the apartment it was at once a solid and well-designed piece of carpentry to conceal my admiration I am the engineer said northmore you remember the planks in the garden behold them I did not know you had so many talents said I are you armed? he continued pointing to an array of guns and pistols all in admirable order which stood in line against the wall or were displayed upon the sideboard thank you I returned I have gone armed since our last encounter but to tell you the truth I have gone armed since early yesterday evening northmore produced some cold meat to which I eagerly set myself and a bottle of good burgundy by which, wet as I was I did not scruple to profit I've always been an extreme temperance man on principle but it is useless to push principle to excess and on this occasion I believe that I finished three quarters of the bottle as I ate I still continued to admire the preparations for defense we could stand to siege, I said at length yes, draw northmore a very little one perhaps it is not so much the strength of the pavilion I must doubt it is the double danger that kills me if we get to shooting, wild as the country is someone is sure to hear it and then, why that's the same thing only different as they say caged by law or killed by carbonari there's the choice it is a devilish bad thing to have the law against you in this world and so I tell the old gentleman upstairs he is quite of my way of thinking speaking of that, said I what kind of person is he oh, he, cried the other he's a rancid fellow as far as he goes I should like to have his neck rung tomorrow by all the devils in Italy I am not in this affair for him you take me I made a bargain for Missy's hand and I mean to have it too that, by the way, said I I understand but how will Mr. Huddlestone take my intrusion leave that to Clara returned to Northmore I could have struck him in the face for his coarse familiarity but I respected the truce as I am bound to say, did Northmore and so long as the danger continued not a cloud arose in our relation I bear him this testimony with the most unfeigned satisfaction nor am I without pride when I look back upon my own behavior that I was ever left in a position so invidious and irritating as soon as I had done eating we proceeded to inspect the lower floor window by window we tried the different supports now and then making an inconsiderable change and the strokes of the hammer sounded with startling loudness through the house I proposed, I remember to make loopholes, but he told me they were already made in the windows of the upper story it was an anxious business this inspection was downhearted there were two doors and five windows to protect and counting Clara only four of us to defend them against an unknown number of foes I communicated my doubts to Northmore who assured me with unmoved composure that he entirely shared them before morning said he we shall all be butchered and buried in great inflow for me that is written I could not help shuddering at the mention of the quicksand that our enemies had spared me in the wood do not flatter yourself said he then you were not in the same boat with the old gentleman now you are it's the flow for all of us mark my words I trembled for Clara and just then her dear voice was heard calling us to come upstairs Northmore showed me the way and when he had reached the landing knocked at the door of what used to be called my uncle's bedroom and had designed it especially for himself come in Northmore come in dear Mr. Casalus said a voice from within pushing open the door Northmore admitted me before him into the apartment as I came in I could see the daughters slipping out by the side door into the study which had been prepared as her bedroom in the bed which was drawn back against the wall instead of standing as I had last seen it boldly across the window set Bernard Huddleston a defaulting banker little as I had seen of him by the shifting light of the lantern on the links I had no difficulty in recognizing him for the same he had a long and shallow continents surrounded by long red beard and side whiskers his broken nose and high cheekbones gave him somewhat the air of a Kalmuk and his light eyes shown with the excitement of a high fever he wore a skull cap of black silk a huge Bible lay open before him on the bed with a pair of gold spectacles in the place and a pile of other books lay on the stand by his side the green curtains lent a cadaver a shade to his cheeks and as he sat propped on pillows his great stature was painfully hunched and his head protruded till it over hung his knees I believe if he had not died otherwise he must have fallen a victim to consumption in the course of but a very few weeks he held out to me a hand thin and disagreeably hairy come in, come in Mr. Casalus said he another protector another protector always welcome as a friend of my daughter's Mr. Casalus how they have rallied about me my daughter's friends may God in heaven bless and reward them for it I gave him my hand of course because I could not help it but the sympathy I had been prepared to feel for Claire's father was immediately soured by his appearance wielding unreal tones in which he spoke Casalus is a good man said Northmore worth ten so I hear, cried Mr. Huddlestone eagerly so my girl tells me Mr. Casalus, my sin has found me out you see I am very low, very low but I hope equally penitent we must all come to the throne of grace at last Mr. Casalus for my part I come late indeed but with unfeigned humility fiddle dee dee said Northmore roughly no, no dear Northmore cried the banker you must not say that you must not try to shake me you forget my dear good boy you forget that I may be called this very night before my maker his excitement was pitiful to behold and I felt myself growing indignant with Northmore whose infiddle opinions I well knew and heartily despised as he continued to taunt the dinner out of his humor of repentance who, my dear Huddlestone said he you do yourself injustice you are a man of the world inside and out and we're up to all kinds of mischief before I was born your conscience is tan like South American leather only you forgot to tan your liver and that if you will believe me is the seat of the annoyance rogue, rogue bad boy, said Mr. Huddlestone shaking his finger I know prescient if you come to that I always hated prescient but I never lost hold of something better through it all I have been a bad boy Mr. Casalus I do not seek to deny that but it was after my wife's death and you know with a widower is a different thing, sinful I won't say no but there is a gradation we shall hope and talking of that Hark, he broke out suddenly his hand raised, his finger spread with interest and terror only the rain, bless God he added after a pause and with indescribable relief for some seconds he lay back among the pillows like a man near to fainting then he gathered himself together and in somewhat tremulous tones began once more to thank me for the share I was prepared to take in his defense one question sir, said I when he had paused is it true that you have money with you he seemed annoyed by the question but admitted with reluctance that he had a little well, I continued it is their money they are after, is it not and why not give it up to them ah, replied he, shaking his head I have tried that already Mr. Casalus and alas that it should be so but it is blood they want Huddlestone, that's a little less than fair said Northmore you should mention that what you offered them 200,000 short the deficit is worth a reference it is for what they call a cool sum, Frank then you see the fellow's reason in their clear Italian way and it seems to them as indeed it seems to me that they may just as well have both while they are about it money and blood together by George and no more trouble for the extra pleasure is it in the pavilion, I asked it is, and I wish it were in the bottom of the sea instead, said Northmore and then suddenly what are you making faces at me for he cried to Mr. Huddlestone, on whom I had unconsciously turned my back do you think Casalus would sell you Mr. Huddlestone protested that nothing had been further from his mind it is a good thing retorted Northmore in his ugliest manner you might end by wearying us what were you going to say he added, turning to me I was going to propose an occupation for the afternoon, said I let us carry that money out piece by piece and lay it down before the pavilion door if the carbonoria come, why it's theirs at any rate no, no, cried Mr. Huddlestone it does not it cannot belong to them it should be distributed prorada among all my creditors come now, Huddlestone said Northmore, none of that well, but my daughter moaned the wretched man your daughter will do well enough here are two suitors, Casalus and I neither of us beggars between whom she has to choose and as for yourself to make an end of arguments you have no right to a farthing and, unless I'm much mistaken you are going to die it was certainly very cruelly said but Mr. Huddlestone was a man who attracted little sympathy and although I saw him wince and shudder I mentally endorsed the rebuke nay, I added a contribution of my own Northmore and I, I said are willing enough to help you save your life but not to escape with stolen property he struggled for a while with himself as though he were on the point of giving way to anger but Prudence had the best of the controversy my dear boys, he said do with me or my money what you will I leave it all in your hands let me compose myself and so we left him, gladly enough I am sure the last that I saw he had once more taken up his great Bible and with tremulous hands was adjusting his spectacles to read end of section 15