I must have lain unconscious a long time, for the sun had just gone down.
“What do you know?” said Rose Noble.
“I refuse to talk,” said I, “until you loosen this cord. I expect to be tied up, but this hubcap is breaking my back.”
Ellis laughed and spat, but Rose Noble only regarded me, rubbing his nose. Then, to my surprise, he rose and, coming behind me, began to loosen my bonds. Ellis’ surprise was plainly greater than mine, for, when he saw Rose Noble’s purpose, he started forward with an oath, and dropped his cigar.
“What the devil are you doing?” he cried.
The other told him not to be a fool.
When the strain was gone, I thanked him, and he made fast the cords.
“And now,” he said, resuming his seat on the box, “what do you know?”
“I believe,” said I, “there’s a chamber at the bottom of that well.”
“How far down?” said Rose Noble.
“Most of the way,” said I. “I can’t tell you for certain, because there was still too much water when last I went down: but I think it lies pretty low.”
“Were you the last to go down?”
“I was.”
“Can you speak German?” said Rose Noble.
“Not a word.”
I knew what was in his mind, and was glad to make a true answer, for to lie when your statement cannot be checked is one thing, but to give a reply which another captive may instantly show to be false is another matter.
“When you say ‘a chamber,’ ” said Rose Noble, “what do you mean?”
I told him of the well-digger’s statement, only omitting to speak any word of the shaft.
“Then the treasure’s under water?” he said.
“It must be,” said I. “In some recess in the wall.”
“How far down did you get?”
“About forty feet below high-water mark.”
“That tells me nothing,” said Rose Noble. “How close did you get to the bottom of the well?”
“Within twenty-five feet.”
The man’s bearing was curiously soft: he was certainly examining me, but his manner was not unpleasant, though something abrupt: all the time he kept his eyes on my face, tilting his chin a little and blinking musingly.
“And now,” he said, looking away, “what are your plans?”
“At the present moment,” said I, “we have no plans.”
For a moment Rose Noble did not move. Then he looked round and upon me, with his eyes wide.
I have tried before to describe the horror these lent his countenance, but I do not think I can ever begin to convey the appalling malevolence of his terrible gaze. It was not human: and, as I met it, I felt my hair rise upon my head.
“Guess again,” he purred.
I made him no answer, partly because I dared not trust my voice.
“Mansel,” continued Rose Noble, “sent you two guys down here, to draw us away from the well. Why?”
I was so much confounded by the man’s discernment that, instead of directly traversing what can only have been a conjecture, dressed up as a fact, I said nothing at all, but only stared upon him like a man in a dream.
“Why?”
I swallowed with difficulty.
“Mansel doesn’t talk,” I said hoarsely, “even to me. I know he wanted to have a look at the well, but he didn’t say why.”
The eyes seemed to scorch my brain.
“Why, d’you think?”
I could only shake my head.
“He’s lying,” said Ellis. “He knows.”
“Yes,” said Rose Noble. “He knows.” He raised his voice. “Bunch!” The driver of the car appeared. “Take off the fan-strap.”
I suppose I might have known what was coming, but not until the belt had been taken from the cooling-fan it controlled and I had been spreadeagled, with my back flat against the radiator of the car, did I realise that pressure in the shape of heat, was to be put upon me to open my mouth. I had but a shirt to my back, and I could feel that the radiator was just warm.
“Start her up,” said Rose Noble.
Bunch started the engine: then he played with the throttle, until she was idling in a leisurely way.
Rose Noble got to his feet.
“I am not in the habit,” he said, “of wasting my time. I shall, therefore, require your answer before you are taken down. Bear that in mind. Before. So don’t wait too long before announcing your readiness to reply. Leave, so to speak, a margin of endurance.”
The cold, imperious tone stung me to speech.
“That’s not the way,” said I, “to address your betters.”
Ellis, who was moving away, stopped in his stride and turned: Bunch, who was fastening a bootlace, looked up at me, open-mouthed: Rose Noble stood very still.
At length:
“That was a mistake,” he said slowly, “which Mansel would never have made.”
“Very likely,” said I, for I saw I had drawn blood, and this exhilarated me. “But then, he’s enough brain for five. And isn’t he quick with his hands?”
Rose Noble lifted his head and looked at the sky. This was dark with clouds, coming up from the west.
“After all,” he said, as though in soliloquy, “swans sing, don’t they? So why not a cygnet?”
Then he turned and walked firmly away, passing out of sight round the byre: Ellis followed him: and presently Rose Noble’s voice called Bunch, and I was left alone.
It was more than half dark now, and already the radiator was growing unpleasantly warm. I attempted to hollow my back, but I was lashed so tight that I could only spare one region at the expense of another. I, therefore, began an endeavour to stretch the cords: unless I could do this quickly, I should not be able, I knew, to do it at all, for to brace myself against the radiator would soon be out of the question. I, therefore, like Samson, put forth all my strength, taking the strain for a quarter of a minute at a time, with the happy result that, after three or four efforts, though the cords held, I must have added full half an inch to their length, for I
