It was ten o’clock in the morning, the weather was very fine, and I had my ear to the keyhole of the archway door, when I heard a footstep upon the terrace beyond.
As I turned to summon Mansel, I felt his hand on my arm.
“Casemate is with her,” he said.
The next instant he was down in the channel and was peering under the door.
Slowly Adèle and her warder passed into and out of my view. Her hair had been rudely shorn to the shape of her head, and about her shoulders she wore a rag of a shawl.
Then I heard Casemate’s voice.
“⸻ this sunshine,” he said. “Don’t you want a hat on your curls?”
“No,” said Adèle.
“Well, I guess I do,” said Casemate. “You carry on, an’ move. You’re not here to wave to Charlie: you’re here for exercise. An’ Rose is red-hot this morning, so I shouldn’t tread on his toes.”
With that, he left her.
“Pull up the rope,” said Mansel; and, before I could think, he was gone.
I was taken so much by surprise that, though I did his bidding, I could hardly believe that our attempt at rescue was fairly begun. Casemate was seeking his hat: that, before he returned, we should be able to let down Adèle to safety seemed to me a chance in a thousand, while, if we were caught in the act, her life would be in great peril and our present enterprise wrecked. I found it unlike Mansel to take such a risk and was wondering whether for once his zeal had outrun his discretion, when Adèle’s face appeared in the channel almost between my legs.
In a flash I had her under the arms, and had drawn her clear of the door and lifted her up. Mansel followed at once, and, whilst I worked like a madman to pull up the rope, he spoke to Adèle.
“If we can do it in time, we shall let you down the face of the cliff. The moment you’re down, unfasten the rope and run for your life to the beechwoods that lie northeast.” He pointed the direction with his arm. “Over there. George or Carson will be there with one of the Rolls. Tell them to drive you—”
He stopped short there, and, after listening intently, caught my wrist.
“Let go the rope,” he breathed. …
For a moment I could hear nothing. Then came Rose Noble’s voice.
“Hat be damned. I said ‘See that she moves.’ By ⸻, that’s clean enough talking. D’you think—”
And there, I suppose, he saw that Adèle was gone. …
For a moment there was dead silence. Then came a rush of steps to the balustrade.
Adèle and Mansel and I stood still as death, while the rope fled steadily back the way it had come. That Rose Noble must now observe it seemed almost certain: whether he would see that it was moving we could not tell.
A sudden roar from the terrace made my heart stand still.
“By ⸻, she’s gone,” screeched Rose Noble. “Look at that ⸻ cord.”
“She’s never had time,” cried Casemate. “I only—”
“Time?” howled Rose Noble. “Time? It’s only your white-livered sort that wants time to break out of hell. Bunch! Punter!” he yelled. “Turn out the ⸻ car. Go and help them, you ⸻. And if we don’t take her at the foot of this blasted rock I’ll twist your block off your body with my bare hands.”
Before the threat was issued, Casemate was gone. I could hear him shouting for Bunch like a man possessed.
The rope was now back in the channel and lying as snug and as taut as though it had never been touched.
Mansel was speaking low.
“Sit down on the step, dear, and let me pull off your boots.”
Adèle obeyed him at once. She was, of course, drenched to the skin.
“Now go up these stairs: they’ll bring you into a room. Your dressing-case is there. Change your clothes as quickly as ever you can. The instant you’re through, come back.”
Here came voices from the courtyard, and almost at once I saw figures about the car. This was in the midst of the archway that ushered the castle gate and directly opposed to that beneath which we stood. The car was standing, as we were, in deep shadow, but the courtyard was full of light. It follows that I could not distinguish whose the figures might be but, after a little, I heard Rose Noble’s voice. I suppose the car was unready, for her engine would not start for all the frenzy with which someone was swinging the shaft. Another—Casemate, I think—was clumsily dashing spirit into the tank. …
At last with a stammer and then with a sudden roar the engine came to life: and that put an end to my observation, for the noise was deafening and a dense smoke from the exhaust screened any movement that was made.
Suddenly the gate was opened, and the car shot out.
Mansel’s hand touched my shoulder.
“Can you see who’s shutting the gate?”
“I think it’s the woman,” said I. “Yes, I can see her skirt.”
“Good,” said Mansel. “And now I think we’ll follow. But I hope the others won’t try to get in their way. Could you tell at all how many got into the car?”
I shook my head.
“Rose Noble?”
“I assume so,” said I. “I certainly heard his voice. Besides, you heard what he said.”
“I don’t count what he says,” said Mansel. “If he saw that the rope was moving, I’ve played my cards wrong.”
“What else could you have done?”
“Followed Casemate and met him,” said Mansel.
“But you couldn’t have known—”
Mansel smiled.
“You never do—at cards,” he said.
Adèle’s voice came from the stairway.
“I’m ready, Jonah,” she said.
A moment later we were in the King’s Closet.
With the utmost caution Mansel opened the door: then he signed to Adèle to follow. I caught up her dressing-case and brought up the rear.
The King’s Bedchamber was empty.
Like thieves in the night, we stole across its floor
