Presently the other man came back from stabling his horse, and I heard the two conversing in low tones in the next room. I heard, also, the clatter of dishes, and wished fervently that the food would choke them both. I thought of all manner of things in those dreadful moments—of my mother, of Rose, of Jack Drumbleforth and Jacob Trusty, of Lucy and Ben Tuckett, and of matters which had happened many a year before and had been forgotten until then. I could see no possible way of escape. Presently the men would come in and run their knives into us, with no more compunction than if we had been sheep, and after that they would throw us into the old well, and leave us to rot. I would have given all I had in the world for the use of my arms at that terrible moment.
After what seemed a long time I heard another horse enter the yard in front, and presently a third voice was joined to the two already engaged in conversation. Then the sweat came out on my brow in great beads, and at every sound as of feet coming our way I trembled with anger and helpless rage. I strained at the cords that bound me, and felt them nip the flesh beneath.
And then an idea suddenly flashed across my mind like a ray of hope. I remembered once being at Doncaster Fair, and watching a man of enormous strength who was showing the people what he could do with his muscles and sinews. First of all he lifted weights, such as bars of iron and lead, and after that he swung heavy clubs about as if they had been mere willow wands. But what the people most admired was the following trick: the man produced a long strand of rope, and bound it tightly round his chest, after which he drew a deep breath, and then, sending out his chest to its full extent, he snapped the rope as if it had been a bit of straw or a woman’s strand of worsted.
Now, I was at that time as strong and mighty of muscle and sinew as any man of the age, and I knew that for every pound the strong man at the fair could lift, I could lift two. And at this terrible moment it occurred to me that now was the time to put forth my great strength and burst the bonds that bound me, so that I might at least have a blow at the villains in the next room before they threw me and my companion into the well.
I contracted my chest and arms as far as I could, and then suddenly expanded them so that the rope cracked again under the pressure. But, alas! there were more strands than one, and they cut into the thick part of my arms so cruelly that I almost cried out with pain. Nevertheless, I was spurred on to make another effort by the voices in the next room, so I drew breath once more, and once more tried to burst the bonds that bound me. I strove and strove and strove until the fire flashed from my eyes, and my chest was like to split, while the straining cords cut into my arms till the blood started and the sweat poured down my face. And then with one last effort the rope snapped sharply, and I sank back exhausted but free.
But there was no time for rest, and I immediately set to work to untie the bonds which confined my feet. This done, I crept over to where Philip Lisle lay asleep, and hastened to release him also. He was so soundly wrapped in slumber that all my tugging at his bonds and rolling him about did not suffice to wake him, and I did not dare to shout in his ear lest the men should hear me. So I withdrew him into the darkest part of the room, and then stole stealthily over to the door, with the intention of crushing the life out of the first man who entered. I had not stood there many minutes, when I heard very soft footfalls approach the door, which was presently unbolted from the outside and then gently opened to the extent of two or three inches. I held my breath and waited, yet my heart thumped so violently against my ribs that I feared it would be heard. However, my hands and arms were ready, and my fingers twitched to be at somebody’s throat.
Then the door was opened a little wider, and I heard the old man whispering as if to someone behind him.
“Fast asleep, captain dear, fast asleep! Don’t you hear how regularly they breathe? Aha, what a nice sleep they’ll have at the bottom of the old well, eh? You made the knife sharp enough, captain dear?”
“Sharp as a needle,” growled the other man. “Go in, Benny, and get it over.”
“Oh yes,” whispered the old villain. “Oh yes, I’m going. Do you hear them breathing, eh? Like children. Eh, eh, eh, how the warm blood will bubble under old Benny’s knife, captain dear! Eh—, sh—sh, my children—sh, here’s old Benny with his—”
As he came stealthily round the door I seized him by the throat and drove his head straight and true against the stone wall behind. I felt the skull crack under my hand, and the man’s body fell limp and lifeless at my feet, without ever a sound passing his lips. Then I caught the glittering knife from him as
