Alexander and Marcus walked stealthily toward the light, but, not as familiar with the place as the highwayman, Alexander bumped into an old loom, which fell over with a clatter and alerted the highwayman to their approach.
The highwayman quickly extinguished the light, but Alexander and Marcus rushed in that direction, oblivious to any bumps and bruises they sustained in the process. They felt around in the darkness, finally finding the flint and tinder, but, after striking it, they were amazed to find the highwayman and Emily were nowhere to be found.
“What happened to them?” Alexander asked in bewilderment.
Marcus said nothing, looking around them. “It looks like he’s been sleeping here,” he told Alexander, pointing to a makeshift cot. “However, it looks like nothing more than a pied-à-terre. He’s definitely hiding the booty somewhere else.” He raised the rushlight, but they saw nothing more than a pile of blankets and some empty bottles.
Alexander, who could not understand how a man and woman could so completely disappear, ran back outside the building to verify that the highwayman’s horse was still tied. Finding the horse docilely eating some grass, he went back inside just in time to see Marcus lifting something off the floor. As Alexander got closer, he realized it was a door. When he finally joined Marcus, he saw he had uncovered some kind of underground tunnel.
“What the deuce!” Alexander exclaimed, and prepared to lower himself into the tunnel.
Once again, Marcus restrained him. “Wait. This is one of the tunnels that lead to the Tudor Arms in Hawkhurst. I think, rather than following him when he is most likely quite far ahead by now, we should go directly to the Tudor Arms and await him on the other end.”
“What if you are mistaken and it leads somewhere else? Meanwhile, he has Emily down there with him. Tell you what, you go to the Tudor Arms, I’ll go through the tunnel. That way one of us is bound to catch him.” Alexander was gone into the tunnel before Marcus had time to agree or disagree. Marcus, having left his horse tethered to a tree, took the highwayman’s horse, and rode as fast as he could to the Tudor Arms.
Alexander found himself in a narrow passage, cold and dank, through which he had to travel bent forward, as it was too low to walk upright. He had extinguished his light, so he was in complete darkness, and he walked with his hands outstretched, guiding him. All he could think with each labored step was how terrified Emily must be, and, although his inclination was to run as fast as he could, he forced himself to walk slowly and carefully. It would not do Emily any good were he to hit his head in the darkness and be rendered unconscious.
After a stretch of time that seemed interminable to him, but was probably only about fifteen minutes, he heard some noises and knew they were just ahead. Emily had impeded the man’s progress quite a bit, and Alexander could hear him warning her to hurry.
“I should’ve left you back there, and if I wasn’t such a fool for the ladies, I would’ve. But you seemed such a nice cozy armful, it seemed a shame to leave you behind for those clumsy oafs.”
Emily, gagged as she was, said nothing in reply. She felt as though she had stumbled into a horrible nightmare and could not believe it was all really happening. The blow to her head had left her a little dazed, as well, which also contributed to her sense of unreality. She stumbled along the narrow tunnel as best she could, which was made even more difficult by the fact that her hands were tied behind her back. Again and again she cursed her stupidity in venturing alone into an area known to be frequented by a highwayman. Her wretched suspicions of Alexander had led her into such a dangerous situation, and she wondered how she could have ever believed him guilty of such a thing. She wished she could go back in time to that morning, where she would give a very different answer to his question, thereby avoiding the situation she now found herself in.
She refused to think of what this man had in store for her and concentrated on the hope that Alexander and Marcus would somehow catch up with them. She prayed that they had been the ones who had chased them into this tunnel.
She did not know whether to be relieved or terrified when they finally reached their destination. She had begun to feel she would go insane if they had stayed in the dark and musty tunnel a moment longer. Being gagged with one’s hands tied was unpleasant enough, but being in a narrow, short space on top of it contributed to her feeling of suffocation, until she felt that something inside her was about to explode. Before this could happen, however, the highwayman had untied her hands and was pushing her up, out of the tunnel.
“Pull yourself up by your hands,” he told her. She obeyed eagerly, but until the highwayman also came out of the tunnel and lit a lamp, she had no idea if her present situation was any better than the one she had just left. When the lamp was lit, she saw she was in a small chamber of some kind. She looked around for a door, but the room did not appear to possess doors or windows. There was a bed, a table with one chair, and a chest. She looked with interest at the highwayman, as well, who had joined her in the small room. This was the first time she had seen his face since he had abducted her. He looked to be about thirty-five, with dark hair and eyes. He was not horribly disfigured in any way, and was probably considered by many to be handsome. Emily, however, viewed his appearance with dislike, thinking how wrong the reports were that labeled him a gentleman. The highwayman told her to sit down, and she sat down at the table, wondering if she dare undo her gag now that her hands were free. Before she had time to act on the thought, the highwayman removed it for her.
“You can scream all you want now, my girl. There’s not anyone who will hear you, and if they did, they would not be able to find you.”
“Where are we?” she asked, although she scarcely recognized her voice for her own.
“Welcome to the Tudor Arms,” he said, with a flourish. He laughed as she looked around her in confusion. “We’re in a small room that adjoins the basement. It was used by the Hawkhurst Gang sixty or seventy years ago. It is generally known that the tunnels exist, and even that they used to lead to the Tudor Arms, but no one other than I has seen the inside of this room for sixty years. There’s another tunnel that leads out of here, much shorter than the one we took in.” He gestured to the wall opposite, and Emily saw what looked like a hole in the wall. “It leads to the stables. Very convenient for me, as I leave my horse stabled there.” To Emily’s dismay, he stopped talking and approached the table where she sat, holding the lamp up to her face. “Let’s see how I made out this evening.” Emily set in silence, petrified, as he studied her face. “I’d say I have got quite a jewel here, and I didn’t even have to rob a carriage.” He laughed at his little joke, and Emily found the courage to speak.
“Sir, I am related to the nobility. It will fare badly for you if you kidnap me. We have a duke in residence at our home as I speak. And his son, a marquess, is my betrothed. They would be quite concerned if anything happened to me,” Emily warned, heedless of the truth. She would have said she was married to the Prince Regent if she thought that would have deterred him.
The highwayman just laughed at her threats. “You think to scare me with a duke and marquess, do you? I lost my fear of the nobility long ago. My father was agent at a grand estate, and I have a fine lord in my pocket.”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked, although she was really not interested. However, she figured if she kept him talking, he would not touch her.
Alexander, on the other hand, was very interested. He was still in the tunnel, waiting for a good opportunity to come out. He crouched just below the exit, where the light could not touch him, and listened carefully.
“I mean that a certain lord supplies me with details of when particular information is to be carried, by whom it is to be carried, and what route they are to take. I obtain this information for him, and, in return, he rewards me handsomely.”
“To whom do you refer?” Emily asked, a little curious by this point, but mostly to keep him talking. The highwayman looked at Emily for a moment, as if trying to decide whether to share such a secret, and then shrugged. “I suppose it will do no harm to tell you, and as fond of titles as you are, you may be acquainted. Lord Cecil Burke, youngest son of the earl of Kilburne.”
Emily thought for a moment, as she did not recognize the name at first. “Of course, Lord Cecil,” she said, as she recollected him. “He’s a cousin or nephew, a connection at least, of Lord Abernathy. But I do not understand. What information is it that he desires to obtain?”
The highwayman smiled. “I am glad you are stupid, my little ladybird. I detest any sign of intelligence in females. Let me break it down for you. We are presently at war, and one side will always pay a great deal to know what the other side is doing. Lord Cecil, for want of ready cash, makes the information available to the other side.”
“With your assistance. You are despicable. A filthy traitor.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately many in England share your sentiments, which is why I have decided on a change of climate. I have enough money to live quite comfortably in France the rest of my days, and, while you may view me
