Chapter Thirty Eight.Suggestions of Escape.The morning broke so bright and clear, and from the window there were so many wonders of architecture visible in the old stronghold, that the professor and Lawrence forgot for the time that they were prisoners, and stood gazing out at the wonderful scene.Where they had been placed was evidently a portion of an old castle, and looking down there were traces of huge buildings of the most solid construction, such as seemed to date back a couple of thousand years, and yet to be in parts as strong as on the day they were placed and cemented stone upon stone.Huge wall, tremendous battlement, and pillared remains of palace or hall were on every side, and as they gazed, it seemed to them that they could easily imagine the presence of the helmeted, armoured warriors who had once owned the land.The sun was so glorious that the professor proposed a look round before breakfast.“Never mind the inconvenience, Lawrence,” he said, “we have fallen into a wonderful nest of antiquities, worth all our journey and trouble. Here, come along.”They went to the doorway, drew the great rug hanging before it aside, and were stepping out when a couple of guns were presented at their breasts, and they were angrily bidden to go back.It was a rude reminder that they were no longer upon a touring journey, and the fact was farther impressed upon them, after a breakfast of yaourt or curd, bread, and some very bad coffee, by a visit from the chief and half a dozen men.Yussuf was called upon to interpret, and that which he had to say was unpalatable enough, for he had to bid them empty their pockets, and pass everything they possessed over to their captors.Watches, purses, pocket-books, all had to go; but it was in vain to resist, and everything was handed over without a word, till it came to Mr Burne’s gold snuff-box, and this he slipped back into his pocket.The attempt to save it was in vain; two sturdy scoundrels seized him, one on each side, and the snuff-box was snatched away by the chief himself.He uttered a few guttural sounds as he opened the box, and seemed disappointed as he found therein only a little fine brown dust, into which he thrust his finger and thumb.He looked puzzled and held it to his nose, giving a good sniff, with the result that he inhaled sufficient of the fine dust to make him sneeze violently, and scatter the remainder of the snuff upon the earth.Mr Burne made a start forward, but he was roughly held back, and the chief then turned to Yussuf.“Tell them,” he said in his own tongue, “to write to their friends, and ask for the ransom—two thousand pounds each, and to say that if the money is not given their heads will be sent. Bid them write.”The fierce-looking scoundrel turned and stalked out of the place with his booty, and the moment he was free, Mr Burne dropped upon his knees and began sweeping the fallen snuff together in company with a great deal of dust and barley chaff, carefully placing the whole in his handkerchief ready for clearing as well as he could at his leisure.“That’s just how they served us,” said Mrs Chumley dolefully. “I thought they would treat you the same.”“So did I,” said her husband dolefully. “They’ve got my gold repeater, and—”“Now, Charley, don’t—don’t—don’t bother Mr Preston about that miserable watch of yours, and I do wish you wouldn’t talk so much.”“But we must talk, madam,” cried Mr Burne. “Here, you, Yussuf, what’s to be done?”“I can only give one piece of advice, effendi,” said Yussuf gravely; “Write.”“What, and ruin ourselves?”“Better that than lose your life, effendi,” replied the guide. “These people are fierce, and half savage. They believe that you have money, and they will keep their word if it is not sent.”“What, and kill us, Yussuf?” said Lawrence, with a horrified look.“Not if I can save you, Lawrence effendi,” said Yussuf eagerly. “But the letters must be sent. It will make the villains think that we are content to wait, and put them off their guard. Preston effendi, it is a terrible increase of the risk, but you will take the lady?”“Take the lady?”“Hush! When we escape. Do not say more now; we may be overheard. Write your letters.”“Then you mean to try and escape.”“Try and escape, effendi?” said Yussuf with a curious laugh; “why, of course.”“What will you do?”“Wait, excellency, and see. There are walls here, and I think places where we might get down past the guards with ropes.”“And the ropes?”Yussuf laughed softly, and stared at the rugs as he said quietly:“I can see the place full of ropes, your excellency; only be patient, and we’ll try what can be done in the darkness. Write your letters now.”Mr Preston had to appeal to the sentries, through Yussuf, for the necessary writing materials, and after a good deal of trouble his own writing-case, which had been in the plundered baggage, was brought to him. He wrote to the vice-consul, Mr Thompson, at Smyrna, telling of their state, and asking advice and assistance, telling him, too, how to obtain the money required if diplomacy failed, and the ransom could not be reduced.This done, and a similar letter being written by Mr Burne, the sentry was again communicated with, and the despatches sent to the chief.An hour later there was a little bustle in the open space before their prison, and a couple of well-armed men mounted their horses, the chief standing talking to them for a few minutes, as if giving them final instructions.He then summoned his prisoners, and spoke to Yussuf, bidding him ask Mr Burne, whose wonderful head-dress won for him the distinction of being considered the most important personage present, whether he would like to make any addition to his despatch; for, said he:“I have told the people that any attempt at rescue means your instant death. I will wait any reasonable time for your ransoms, and you shall be well treated; but I warn you that attempts to escape will be death to you. That is all.”“Wait a minute, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne. “Tell him he can keep the snuff-box and welcome, but he has a canister of best snuff in the package that was on the brown pony. Ask him to let me have that.”“Yes,” said the chief, on hearing the request, “it is of no use to anyone. He can have it. What a dog of a Christian to take his tobacco like that! Anything else?”“Yes,” said Mr Preston, on hearing the reply, “tell him to send his men to watch me as much as he likes, but I want leave to inspect the old ruins and to make drawings. Tell him I will not attempt to escape.”“No, effendi,” said Yussuf, “I will not tell him that, but I will ask the first;” and he made the request.“What! is he—one of the idiot giaours who waste their time in seeing old stones and imitate them upon paper?”“Yes, a harmless creature enough,” said Yussuf.“So I suppose, or he would have fought. Well, yes, he can go about, but tell him that if he attempts to leave my men behind they will shoot him. Not that he can get away, unless he has a djin to help him, or can fly,” he added with a laugh.He walked to his men, gave them some further instructions, and they saw the two ambassadors go in and out among the ruins till they passed between two immense buttresses of rock, and then disappear down the perilous zigzag path that led to the shelf-like way.“Yes,” said Yussuf, looking at Mr Preston, and interpreting his thoughts, “that is the only way out, excellency, but I do not despair of making our escape. It must be a long time before arrangements can be made for your release, and the winter comes early here in these high places.”“Winter?” cried Lawrence.“Yes,” said Yussuf. “It is fine and sunny one day, the next the snow has fallen, and a place like this may be shut off from the plains below for months. You do not wish to pass the winter here, Lawrence effendi?”“I don’t think I should mind,” replied the lad, “everything is so fresh, and there is so much to see.”“Well, now they are giving me leave to go about,” said Mr Preston thoughtfully, “I think I could spend some months in drawing and writing an account of this old city, especially if they would let me make some excavations.”“But his excellency, Mr Burne?” said Yussuf.“Oh! I’ve got my snuff—at least I am to have it, and if they will feed us well I don’t suppose I should mind very much. The fact is, Preston, I’ve been working so hard all my life that I like this change. Doing nothing is very pleasant when you are tired.”“Of course it is,” said the professor smiling.“And so long as there’s no nonsense about cutting off men’s heads, or any of that rubbish, I rather like being taken a prisoner by brigands. I wonder what a London policeman would think of such a state of affairs.”“My masters are submitting wisely to their fate,” said Yussuf gravely; “and while we are waiting, and those people think we are quite patient, I shall come with his excellency Preston, and while he draws I shall make plans, not of the city, but how to escape.”Further conversation was cut short by the coming of Mr and Mrs Chumley, who eagerly asked—at least Mr Chumley wished to ask eagerly, but he was stopped by his lady, who retained the right—what arrangements had been made. And she was told.“Oh, dear!” she sighed, “then that means weary waiting again. Oh, Charley! why would you insist upon coming to this wretched land?”Mr Chumley opened his mouth in astonishment, but he did not speak then, he only waited a few minutes, and then took Lawrence’s arm, and sat whispering to him apart, telling him how Mrs Chumley had insisted upon coming to Turkey when he wanted to go to Paris, and nowhere else, and that he was the most miserable man in the world.Lawrence heard him in silence, and as he sat he wondered how it was the most miserable man in the world could look so round and happy and grow so fat.
The morning broke so bright and clear, and from the window there were so many wonders of architecture visible in the old stronghold, that the professor and Lawrence forgot for the time that they were prisoners, and stood gazing out at the wonderful scene.
Where they had been placed was evidently a portion of an old castle, and looking down there were traces of huge buildings of the most solid construction, such as seemed to date back a couple of thousand years, and yet to be in parts as strong as on the day they were placed and cemented stone upon stone.
Huge wall, tremendous battlement, and pillared remains of palace or hall were on every side, and as they gazed, it seemed to them that they could easily imagine the presence of the helmeted, armoured warriors who had once owned the land.
The sun was so glorious that the professor proposed a look round before breakfast.
“Never mind the inconvenience, Lawrence,” he said, “we have fallen into a wonderful nest of antiquities, worth all our journey and trouble. Here, come along.”
They went to the doorway, drew the great rug hanging before it aside, and were stepping out when a couple of guns were presented at their breasts, and they were angrily bidden to go back.
It was a rude reminder that they were no longer upon a touring journey, and the fact was farther impressed upon them, after a breakfast of yaourt or curd, bread, and some very bad coffee, by a visit from the chief and half a dozen men.
Yussuf was called upon to interpret, and that which he had to say was unpalatable enough, for he had to bid them empty their pockets, and pass everything they possessed over to their captors.
Watches, purses, pocket-books, all had to go; but it was in vain to resist, and everything was handed over without a word, till it came to Mr Burne’s gold snuff-box, and this he slipped back into his pocket.
The attempt to save it was in vain; two sturdy scoundrels seized him, one on each side, and the snuff-box was snatched away by the chief himself.
He uttered a few guttural sounds as he opened the box, and seemed disappointed as he found therein only a little fine brown dust, into which he thrust his finger and thumb.
He looked puzzled and held it to his nose, giving a good sniff, with the result that he inhaled sufficient of the fine dust to make him sneeze violently, and scatter the remainder of the snuff upon the earth.
Mr Burne made a start forward, but he was roughly held back, and the chief then turned to Yussuf.
“Tell them,” he said in his own tongue, “to write to their friends, and ask for the ransom—two thousand pounds each, and to say that if the money is not given their heads will be sent. Bid them write.”
The fierce-looking scoundrel turned and stalked out of the place with his booty, and the moment he was free, Mr Burne dropped upon his knees and began sweeping the fallen snuff together in company with a great deal of dust and barley chaff, carefully placing the whole in his handkerchief ready for clearing as well as he could at his leisure.
“That’s just how they served us,” said Mrs Chumley dolefully. “I thought they would treat you the same.”
“So did I,” said her husband dolefully. “They’ve got my gold repeater, and—”
“Now, Charley, don’t—don’t—don’t bother Mr Preston about that miserable watch of yours, and I do wish you wouldn’t talk so much.”
“But we must talk, madam,” cried Mr Burne. “Here, you, Yussuf, what’s to be done?”
“I can only give one piece of advice, effendi,” said Yussuf gravely; “Write.”
“What, and ruin ourselves?”
“Better that than lose your life, effendi,” replied the guide. “These people are fierce, and half savage. They believe that you have money, and they will keep their word if it is not sent.”
“What, and kill us, Yussuf?” said Lawrence, with a horrified look.
“Not if I can save you, Lawrence effendi,” said Yussuf eagerly. “But the letters must be sent. It will make the villains think that we are content to wait, and put them off their guard. Preston effendi, it is a terrible increase of the risk, but you will take the lady?”
“Take the lady?”
“Hush! When we escape. Do not say more now; we may be overheard. Write your letters.”
“Then you mean to try and escape.”
“Try and escape, effendi?” said Yussuf with a curious laugh; “why, of course.”
“What will you do?”
“Wait, excellency, and see. There are walls here, and I think places where we might get down past the guards with ropes.”
“And the ropes?”
Yussuf laughed softly, and stared at the rugs as he said quietly:
“I can see the place full of ropes, your excellency; only be patient, and we’ll try what can be done in the darkness. Write your letters now.”
Mr Preston had to appeal to the sentries, through Yussuf, for the necessary writing materials, and after a good deal of trouble his own writing-case, which had been in the plundered baggage, was brought to him. He wrote to the vice-consul, Mr Thompson, at Smyrna, telling of their state, and asking advice and assistance, telling him, too, how to obtain the money required if diplomacy failed, and the ransom could not be reduced.
This done, and a similar letter being written by Mr Burne, the sentry was again communicated with, and the despatches sent to the chief.
An hour later there was a little bustle in the open space before their prison, and a couple of well-armed men mounted their horses, the chief standing talking to them for a few minutes, as if giving them final instructions.
He then summoned his prisoners, and spoke to Yussuf, bidding him ask Mr Burne, whose wonderful head-dress won for him the distinction of being considered the most important personage present, whether he would like to make any addition to his despatch; for, said he:
“I have told the people that any attempt at rescue means your instant death. I will wait any reasonable time for your ransoms, and you shall be well treated; but I warn you that attempts to escape will be death to you. That is all.”
“Wait a minute, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne. “Tell him he can keep the snuff-box and welcome, but he has a canister of best snuff in the package that was on the brown pony. Ask him to let me have that.”
“Yes,” said the chief, on hearing the request, “it is of no use to anyone. He can have it. What a dog of a Christian to take his tobacco like that! Anything else?”
“Yes,” said Mr Preston, on hearing the reply, “tell him to send his men to watch me as much as he likes, but I want leave to inspect the old ruins and to make drawings. Tell him I will not attempt to escape.”
“No, effendi,” said Yussuf, “I will not tell him that, but I will ask the first;” and he made the request.
“What! is he—one of the idiot giaours who waste their time in seeing old stones and imitate them upon paper?”
“Yes, a harmless creature enough,” said Yussuf.
“So I suppose, or he would have fought. Well, yes, he can go about, but tell him that if he attempts to leave my men behind they will shoot him. Not that he can get away, unless he has a djin to help him, or can fly,” he added with a laugh.
He walked to his men, gave them some further instructions, and they saw the two ambassadors go in and out among the ruins till they passed between two immense buttresses of rock, and then disappear down the perilous zigzag path that led to the shelf-like way.
“Yes,” said Yussuf, looking at Mr Preston, and interpreting his thoughts, “that is the only way out, excellency, but I do not despair of making our escape. It must be a long time before arrangements can be made for your release, and the winter comes early here in these high places.”
“Winter?” cried Lawrence.
“Yes,” said Yussuf. “It is fine and sunny one day, the next the snow has fallen, and a place like this may be shut off from the plains below for months. You do not wish to pass the winter here, Lawrence effendi?”
“I don’t think I should mind,” replied the lad, “everything is so fresh, and there is so much to see.”
“Well, now they are giving me leave to go about,” said Mr Preston thoughtfully, “I think I could spend some months in drawing and writing an account of this old city, especially if they would let me make some excavations.”
“But his excellency, Mr Burne?” said Yussuf.
“Oh! I’ve got my snuff—at least I am to have it, and if they will feed us well I don’t suppose I should mind very much. The fact is, Preston, I’ve been working so hard all my life that I like this change. Doing nothing is very pleasant when you are tired.”
“Of course it is,” said the professor smiling.
“And so long as there’s no nonsense about cutting off men’s heads, or any of that rubbish, I rather like being taken a prisoner by brigands. I wonder what a London policeman would think of such a state of affairs.”
“My masters are submitting wisely to their fate,” said Yussuf gravely; “and while we are waiting, and those people think we are quite patient, I shall come with his excellency Preston, and while he draws I shall make plans, not of the city, but how to escape.”
Further conversation was cut short by the coming of Mr and Mrs Chumley, who eagerly asked—at least Mr Chumley wished to ask eagerly, but he was stopped by his lady, who retained the right—what arrangements had been made. And she was told.
“Oh, dear!” she sighed, “then that means weary waiting again. Oh, Charley! why would you insist upon coming to this wretched land?”
Mr Chumley opened his mouth in astonishment, but he did not speak then, he only waited a few minutes, and then took Lawrence’s arm, and sat whispering to him apart, telling him how Mrs Chumley had insisted upon coming to Turkey when he wanted to go to Paris, and nowhere else, and that he was the most miserable man in the world.
Lawrence heard him in silence, and as he sat he wondered how it was the most miserable man in the world could look so round and happy and grow so fat.
Chapter Thirty Nine.Yussuf has his Wits about him.The weather was cold up there in the mountains, and it froze at night; but the sun was hot in the daytime, and the sky was mostly of a most delicious blue. The chief always seemed to be scowling, watchful, and suspicious, but the prisoners had nothing but their captivity to complain about. Rugs in abundance—every one of them stolen—were supplied for bedding and keeping out the cold night air that would have penetrated by door or window. Upon proper representations being made by Yussuf the food supply was better, the guide installing himself at once as cook, to Mr Chumley’s great delight; and agreeable dishes—pilaf, curry, kabobs, and the like—were prepared, with excellent coffee and good bread, while the scowling sentries became more agreeable, and took willingly to their duties, on finding that satisfactory snacks were handed to them, and hot cups of coffee on the bitter nights when they sat watching in their sheepskin or goatskin cloaks.As for the professor, in two days he had forgotten that he was a prisoner, and Lawrence was the best of friends with the evil-looking guards, who followed them with loaded guns to some old ruinous patch of wall, fortification, or hall. Here the professor was in his element, drawing, planning, and measuring, longing the while to set a dozen strong-armed men to work digging up the stones embedded in the earth—a task which he was sure would be rewarded by the discovery of many objects of antiquity.Parties of the brigands went out now and then, but it was evident that their object was merely to forage, large quantities of barley being brought in, and some of the old buildings being utilised for stores.These seemed to be well supplied, and the community was preparing for the coming winter, so Yussuf told Lawrence—for the days when no food would be obtainable perhaps for months.Everyone seemed to lead a careless nonchalant life, the prisoners they had taken would, no doubt it was considered, bring in sufficient to make this a prosperous year’s work, and till the ransoms were paid there was little more to do.The days glided by, and the watch over the prisoners grew less rigid. There was apparently only one way out of the stronghold, and that was always carefully guarded; and as it was evident to the captors that the professor and his companions were bent upon studying the place, the guards used to sit down upon some heap of old stones, with their guns across their knees, and smoke and sleep, while drawings were made, and inscriptions copied.Yussuf became quite a favourite, for he was a cook, and often showed the brigands’ wives how to make some savoury dish; but for the most part he was busy helping the professor, carrying his paper, cleaning stones, or performing some such office.And so the days glided by, with the professor perfectly contented, the old lawyer apparently little troubled so long as his snuff held out, and Lawrence growing sturdier, and enjoying the feeling of health more and more.The only discontented people were the Chumleys, the gentleman complaining bitterly about the absence of news, and the lady because her husband would chatter so incessantly.“I say, Yussuf,” said Lawrence one night as he sat talking to the guide, “they won’t cut off our heads, will they?”Yussuf shook his head.“I have only one dread,” he replied; “and that is of an attempt being made to rescue us.”“I don’t see anything to be afraid of there,” said Lawrence laughing.“But I do,” said the Turk seriously. “If an attack were made, those people would become fierce like dogs or rats at bay, and then they might take our lives.”“They would not without, then?”“No,” said Yussuf; “they would threaten, and hold out for a heavy ransom, but if the friends that have been written to are clever, they will make the ransom small, and we shall be freed. But it may take a long time, for the brigands will hold out as long as they think there is a chance of getting a large sum. They are safe here; they have abundant stores, and nothing to do: they can afford to wait.”“Well, I’m sure Mr Preston is in no hurry,” said Lawrence; “nobody is but the Chumleys.”“And I,” said Yussuf smiling.“You? why, I thought you were happy enough. You haven’t said a word lately about escaping.”“No,” replied Yussuf smiling; “but sometimes those who are so quiet do a great deal. I am afraid of the winter coming with its snow and shutting us in for months when we could not escape, for, even if the snow would let us pass, we should perish in the cold. I have been hard at work.”“You have, Yussuf? What have you been doing? Oh, I know; making plans.”“And ropes,” said Yussuf gravely.“Ropes? I have seen you make no ropes.”“No, because you were asleep. Wait a moment.”He rose quietly and walked to the entrance, drawing the rug that hung there aside and peering out, to come back as softly as he left his seat, and glancing at where the professor, wearied out with a hard day’s work, was, like his companions by the fire, fast asleep.“The guards are smoking out there, and are safe,” said Yussuf. “See here, Lawrence effendi, but do not say a word to a soul.”“I shall not speak,” said Lawrence.Yussuf gave another glance at the Chumleys, and then stepped to a corner of the great hall-like place which formed their prison, drew aside a rug on the floor, lifted a slab of stone, and pointed to a coil of worsted rope as thick as a good walking-stick, and evidently of great length.It was only a few moments’ glance, and then the stone was lowered, the dust swept over it, and the rug drawn across again.“You see I am getting ready,” said Yussuf.“But what are we going to do?”“I have been watching and waiting,” whispered the guide, “and I have found a place where we can descend from the old wall over the great defile.”“But it is so awful a place, Yussuf.”“Yes, it is awful; but there is a ledge we can reach, and then creep along and get beyond the sentries. Then all will be easy, for we can get a long way some dark night before the alarm is given, and in the day we can hide. Of course we must load ourselves with the food we have saved up.”“Yes, yes, of course,” said Lawrence thoughtfully; “but Mrs Chumley, she would not go down a rope.”“Why, not?” said Yussuf quietly; “she talks like a man.”“When are you going to try, then?” said Lawrence excitedly.“In about ten days. I shall be ready then, and the nights will be dark. But, patience—you must not be excited.”“But you will tell Mr Preston?”“Yes; to-morrow night, when I have finished my first rope. Go to sleep now.”“And you, Yussuf?”“Oh, I am going to work,” he said smiling. “See, my material is here.”He drew out a handful of worsted threads which were evidently part of a rug which he had unravelled, and as soon as Lawrence had lain down, the Turk walked to the darkest corner of the building, and Lawrence could just make out that he was busy over something, but he was perfectly silent.
The weather was cold up there in the mountains, and it froze at night; but the sun was hot in the daytime, and the sky was mostly of a most delicious blue. The chief always seemed to be scowling, watchful, and suspicious, but the prisoners had nothing but their captivity to complain about. Rugs in abundance—every one of them stolen—were supplied for bedding and keeping out the cold night air that would have penetrated by door or window. Upon proper representations being made by Yussuf the food supply was better, the guide installing himself at once as cook, to Mr Chumley’s great delight; and agreeable dishes—pilaf, curry, kabobs, and the like—were prepared, with excellent coffee and good bread, while the scowling sentries became more agreeable, and took willingly to their duties, on finding that satisfactory snacks were handed to them, and hot cups of coffee on the bitter nights when they sat watching in their sheepskin or goatskin cloaks.
As for the professor, in two days he had forgotten that he was a prisoner, and Lawrence was the best of friends with the evil-looking guards, who followed them with loaded guns to some old ruinous patch of wall, fortification, or hall. Here the professor was in his element, drawing, planning, and measuring, longing the while to set a dozen strong-armed men to work digging up the stones embedded in the earth—a task which he was sure would be rewarded by the discovery of many objects of antiquity.
Parties of the brigands went out now and then, but it was evident that their object was merely to forage, large quantities of barley being brought in, and some of the old buildings being utilised for stores.
These seemed to be well supplied, and the community was preparing for the coming winter, so Yussuf told Lawrence—for the days when no food would be obtainable perhaps for months.
Everyone seemed to lead a careless nonchalant life, the prisoners they had taken would, no doubt it was considered, bring in sufficient to make this a prosperous year’s work, and till the ransoms were paid there was little more to do.
The days glided by, and the watch over the prisoners grew less rigid. There was apparently only one way out of the stronghold, and that was always carefully guarded; and as it was evident to the captors that the professor and his companions were bent upon studying the place, the guards used to sit down upon some heap of old stones, with their guns across their knees, and smoke and sleep, while drawings were made, and inscriptions copied.
Yussuf became quite a favourite, for he was a cook, and often showed the brigands’ wives how to make some savoury dish; but for the most part he was busy helping the professor, carrying his paper, cleaning stones, or performing some such office.
And so the days glided by, with the professor perfectly contented, the old lawyer apparently little troubled so long as his snuff held out, and Lawrence growing sturdier, and enjoying the feeling of health more and more.
The only discontented people were the Chumleys, the gentleman complaining bitterly about the absence of news, and the lady because her husband would chatter so incessantly.
“I say, Yussuf,” said Lawrence one night as he sat talking to the guide, “they won’t cut off our heads, will they?”
Yussuf shook his head.
“I have only one dread,” he replied; “and that is of an attempt being made to rescue us.”
“I don’t see anything to be afraid of there,” said Lawrence laughing.
“But I do,” said the Turk seriously. “If an attack were made, those people would become fierce like dogs or rats at bay, and then they might take our lives.”
“They would not without, then?”
“No,” said Yussuf; “they would threaten, and hold out for a heavy ransom, but if the friends that have been written to are clever, they will make the ransom small, and we shall be freed. But it may take a long time, for the brigands will hold out as long as they think there is a chance of getting a large sum. They are safe here; they have abundant stores, and nothing to do: they can afford to wait.”
“Well, I’m sure Mr Preston is in no hurry,” said Lawrence; “nobody is but the Chumleys.”
“And I,” said Yussuf smiling.
“You? why, I thought you were happy enough. You haven’t said a word lately about escaping.”
“No,” replied Yussuf smiling; “but sometimes those who are so quiet do a great deal. I am afraid of the winter coming with its snow and shutting us in for months when we could not escape, for, even if the snow would let us pass, we should perish in the cold. I have been hard at work.”
“You have, Yussuf? What have you been doing? Oh, I know; making plans.”
“And ropes,” said Yussuf gravely.
“Ropes? I have seen you make no ropes.”
“No, because you were asleep. Wait a moment.”
He rose quietly and walked to the entrance, drawing the rug that hung there aside and peering out, to come back as softly as he left his seat, and glancing at where the professor, wearied out with a hard day’s work, was, like his companions by the fire, fast asleep.
“The guards are smoking out there, and are safe,” said Yussuf. “See here, Lawrence effendi, but do not say a word to a soul.”
“I shall not speak,” said Lawrence.
Yussuf gave another glance at the Chumleys, and then stepped to a corner of the great hall-like place which formed their prison, drew aside a rug on the floor, lifted a slab of stone, and pointed to a coil of worsted rope as thick as a good walking-stick, and evidently of great length.
It was only a few moments’ glance, and then the stone was lowered, the dust swept over it, and the rug drawn across again.
“You see I am getting ready,” said Yussuf.
“But what are we going to do?”
“I have been watching and waiting,” whispered the guide, “and I have found a place where we can descend from the old wall over the great defile.”
“But it is so awful a place, Yussuf.”
“Yes, it is awful; but there is a ledge we can reach, and then creep along and get beyond the sentries. Then all will be easy, for we can get a long way some dark night before the alarm is given, and in the day we can hide. Of course we must load ourselves with the food we have saved up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Lawrence thoughtfully; “but Mrs Chumley, she would not go down a rope.”
“Why, not?” said Yussuf quietly; “she talks like a man.”
“When are you going to try, then?” said Lawrence excitedly.
“In about ten days. I shall be ready then, and the nights will be dark. But, patience—you must not be excited.”
“But you will tell Mr Preston?”
“Yes; to-morrow night, when I have finished my first rope. Go to sleep now.”
“And you, Yussuf?”
“Oh, I am going to work,” he said smiling. “See, my material is here.”
He drew out a handful of worsted threads which were evidently part of a rug which he had unravelled, and as soon as Lawrence had lain down, the Turk walked to the darkest corner of the building, and Lawrence could just make out that he was busy over something, but he was perfectly silent.
Chapter Forty.A Grand Discovery.It was the very next day that the professor took his paper, rule, and pencils down to a building that seemed to have been a temple. It was at the very edge of the tremendous precipice, and must once have been of noble aspect, for it was adorned with a grand entrance, with handsomely carved columns supporting the nearly perfect roof, and the wonder was that the brigands had not utilised it for a dwelling or store. But there it was, empty, and the professor gazed around it with rapture.The guards stood at the entrance leaning against the wall watching him and Lawrence carelessly, and then, going out into the sunshine, they picked out a sheltered spot, and sat down to smoke.The professor began to draw. Soon afterwards Mr Burne sat down on a broken column taking snuff at intervals, and Yussuf seated himself with his back to the doorway, drew some worsted from his breast, and began to plait it rapidly, while Lawrence went on investigating the inmost recesses of the place.“Come and look here, Yussuf,” he cried at the end of a few minutes, and the Turk followed him to a part of the building behind where an altar must have stood and pointed down.“Look here,” he said; “this stone is loose, and goes down when I stand upon that corner. It’s hollow, too, underneath.”He stamped as he spoke, and there was a strange echoing sound came up.“Hush!” said Yussuf quickly, and he glanced round to see if they were observed; but they were hidden from the other occupants of the place; and, stooping down, Yussuf brushed away some rubbish, placed his hands under one side of the stone where it was loose, and lifted the slab partly up.The air came up cool and sweet, so that it did not seem to be a vault; but it was evidently something of the kind, and not a well, for there was a flight of stone steps leading down into the darkness.It was but a moment’s glance before Yussuf lowered the stone again, and hastily kicked some rubbish over it, and lowered a piece of an old figure across it so as to hide it more.“What is it?” said Lawrence quickly.“I do not know,” replied Yussuf. “It is our discovery. It may be treasure; it may be anything. Say no word to a soul, and you and I will get a lamp, escape from the prison to-night, and come and examine it, and see what it is. It may be a way out.”Lawrence would gladly have gone on at once, but Yussuf signed to him to be silent; and it was as well, for he had hardly time to throw himself down on a block of stone, and sham sleep, when the guards came sauntering in and looked suspiciously round. Then, not seeing two of their prisoners, they came on cautiously, and peered over the stones that hid them from where the professor was drawing, to find Yussuf apparently asleep, and Lawrence sharpening his pocket-knife upon a stone.One of the men came forward and snatched the knife away, saying in his own tongue that boys had no business with knives, after which he stalked off and returned to his old place outside.“You see,” said Yussuf quietly, “it was no time now for examining the place; wait till night.”For the first time since he had been a prisoner the hours passed slowly to Lawrence. It seemed as if it would never be night, and every time he met the professor’s or Mr Burne’s eye, they seemed to be taking him to task for keeping a secret from them.Then, too, Mrs Chumley appeared to be suspecting him, and Chumley drew him aside as if to cross-examine him; but it was only to confide a long story about how severely he had been snubbed that day for wanting to follow the professor to the ruins where he was making his drawings.At last, though, the guards had thrust in their villainous faces for the last time, according to their custom, and all had lain down as if to sleep.An hour must have passed, and Lawrence lay with his heart beating, waiting for a summons from Yussuf; but it seemed as if one would never come, and the lad was about to give up and conclude that their guide had decided not to go that night, when a hand came out of the darkness and touched his face, while a pair of lips almost swept his ear, and a voice whispered:“Rise softly, and follow me.”Lawrence needed no second invitation, and, rising quickly, he followed Yussuf to where the rug hung over the door.“Bend down low, and follow me,” whispered the Turk. “The guards are nearly asleep.”He drew the rug a little on one side, and Lawrence saw where the two men were huddled up in their sheepskin cloaks.“Do as I do,” whispered Yussuf.The moon was shining, and the part where the guards sat was well in the light; but a black shadow was cast beneath the walls of the great building, and by stooping down and keeping in this, the evading pair were able to get beyond the ken of the guards, and though lights shone out from one ruined building, whether from fire or lamp could not be told, not a soul was about, and they were able to keep on till the inhabited part was left behind and the old temple reached.“It was a dangerous thing to do, Lawrence effendi,” said the guide. “I repented promising to bring you, for the men might have fired.”“Never mind that,” whispered Lawrence. “We are safe now. Have you brought a light?”“Yes,” was the reply; and, by the moonlight which shone through a gap, Yussuf led the way among the broken stones to the back of the old altar, where, after feeling about, he found the side of the stone, lifted it right up, and leaned it against a broken column.Then, after a word of warning, he stooped down and struck a match, but the draught that blew up the opening extinguished it on the instant.Another and another shared the same fate, after giving them a glimpse of a ragged set of stone steps; and as it was evident that no light could be obtained that way, Yussuf took the little lamp he had brought into a corner of the building, lit it, and sheltering it inside his loose garment, he came back to where Lawrence waited listening.“I’ll go first,” said Yussuf. “Mind how you come.”He lowered himself into the hole, and descended a few steps.“It is quite safe,” he said. “Come down;” and Lawrence descended to stand by his side.“Shelter this lamp a minute,” whispered Yussuf. “I must close the stone, or the light will be out.”Lawrence took the lamp, the perspiration standing on his forehead the while, as he felt that this was something like being Aladdin, and descending into the cave in search of the wonderful lamp.“Suppose,” he thought, “that Yussuf should step out and leave him in this horrible place to starve and die. Nobody would ever guess that he was there, and no one would hear his cries. What was the place—a tomb? And had Yussuf gone and left him?”There was a low dull hollow sound as the stone descended into its place, and a cry rose to the lad’s lips, but it had no utterance, for Yussuf said softly from above:“Now you may show the light, and we can see where we are.”Lawrence drew a breath of relief as he took the light from his breast, and saw that he was standing upon a very rough flight of stone steps, with the rugged wall of rock on either side.Yussuf took the lamp and held it up, showing a rough arch of great stones over their heads, and the square opening over a rough landing where they had descended, while on either side the rock looked as if at some time it had been split, and left a space varying from four to six feet wide, the two sides being such that, if by some convulsion of nature they were closed, they would have fitted one into the other.“Follow close behind me,” said Yussuf. “This must lead into some vault or perhaps burial-place. You are not frightened?”“Yes, I am,” said Lawrence in a low tone.“Shall we go back?”“No, but I cannot help being a little alarmed.”Yussuf laughed softly.“No wonder,” he said. “I feel a little strange myself. But listen, Lawrence; what we have to fear is a hole or crack in the rock into which we might fall, so keep your eyes on the ground.”But their path proved very easy, always a steep descent, sometimes cut into stairs, sometimes merely a rugged slope, and always arched over by big uncemented stones.No vault came in sight, no passage broke off to right or left; it was always the same steep descent—a way to some particular pine made by the ancients, who had utilised the crevice or split in the rock, and arched it over to make this rugged passage.“I think I understand,” said Yussuf, when they had gone on descending for quite three hundred yards.“What is it?” said Lawrence; “a tomb?”“No.”“A treasure chamber?”“No.”“What, then?”“There must be a spring of good water somewhere down at the bottom, and this was of great value to the people who built this place on the rock. Shall we go any farther?”“Yes, I want to see the spring,” said Lawrence. “I am not so frightened now.”“There is quite a current of air here,” said Yussuf, when they had descended another hundred yards or so. “The spring must be in the open air, and out by the mountain side.”Lawrence was too intent upon his feet to answer, and they descended another fifty yards, when Yussuf stopped, for the way was impeded by a piled-up mass of fallen stones, and on looking up to see if they were from the roof they found that the arching had ceased, and that the roof was the natural rock of wedged-in masses fallen from above.“We can get no farther,” said Yussuf, holding the lamp above his head.“Look, look!” said Lawrence softly; “there is a light out there.”Yussuf looked straight before him; and placing the lamp upon the ground, and shading it with his coat, there, sure enough, not more than a dozen yards away, was a patch of light—blight moonlight.“I was wrong,” said Yussuf calmly; “this is not the way to a spring, but a road from that temple down to some pathway along by the side of the mountain, and closed up by these fallen stones. Lawrence effendi, we shall not want my ropes to descend from the walls. You have found a way out of the old place that has lain hidden for hundreds of years.”“Do you think so?”“Yes; and that we have only to set to work and clear away these stones sufficiently to reach the entrance, and then we can escape.”“Let us begin, then, at once,” cried Lawrence joyously.“No; we will go back now, and examine the way, so as to make sure that our course up and down is safe. Then we will get back, and be satisfied with our night’s work.”“Yes,” said Yussuf, when he reached the stone again; “it is all quite plain. I could come up and down here in the dark, and there will be light enough at the bottom in the daytime to see what to do.”He raised the stone after extinguishing his lamp, and they both stepped out; the stone was lowered into its place, a little earth and dust thrown over it and a few fragments of rubbish, and then the midnight wanderers stole back to the prison, but only to stop short in the shadow with Lawrence chilled by horror. For, as they were about to step up to the portal, one of the guards yawned loudly, rose, and walked to the rug, drew it aside, and looked in.He stood there gazing in so long, that it seemed as if he must have discovered that there were absentees; but, just as Lawrence was in despair, he dropped the curtain, walked back to his companion, and sat down with his back to the portal.Yussuf wasted no time, but glided along in the shadow, and Lawrence followed; but as he reached the portal he kicked against a piece of loose stone and the guards sprang up.Lawrence would have stood there petrified, but Yussuf dragged him in, hurried him across the interior, threw him down, and took his place behind him.“Pretend to be asleep,” he whispered; and he turned his face away, as the steps of the guards were heard, and they lifted the rug curtain and came in with a primitive kind of lantern, to look round and see if all were there, being satisfied on finding them apparently asleep, and going back evidently believing it was a false alarm.“Safe this time, Yussuf,” whispered Lawrence.“Yes,” said the guide. “Now sleep in peace, for you have discovered a way to escape.”
It was the very next day that the professor took his paper, rule, and pencils down to a building that seemed to have been a temple. It was at the very edge of the tremendous precipice, and must once have been of noble aspect, for it was adorned with a grand entrance, with handsomely carved columns supporting the nearly perfect roof, and the wonder was that the brigands had not utilised it for a dwelling or store. But there it was, empty, and the professor gazed around it with rapture.
The guards stood at the entrance leaning against the wall watching him and Lawrence carelessly, and then, going out into the sunshine, they picked out a sheltered spot, and sat down to smoke.
The professor began to draw. Soon afterwards Mr Burne sat down on a broken column taking snuff at intervals, and Yussuf seated himself with his back to the doorway, drew some worsted from his breast, and began to plait it rapidly, while Lawrence went on investigating the inmost recesses of the place.
“Come and look here, Yussuf,” he cried at the end of a few minutes, and the Turk followed him to a part of the building behind where an altar must have stood and pointed down.
“Look here,” he said; “this stone is loose, and goes down when I stand upon that corner. It’s hollow, too, underneath.”
He stamped as he spoke, and there was a strange echoing sound came up.
“Hush!” said Yussuf quickly, and he glanced round to see if they were observed; but they were hidden from the other occupants of the place; and, stooping down, Yussuf brushed away some rubbish, placed his hands under one side of the stone where it was loose, and lifted the slab partly up.
The air came up cool and sweet, so that it did not seem to be a vault; but it was evidently something of the kind, and not a well, for there was a flight of stone steps leading down into the darkness.
It was but a moment’s glance before Yussuf lowered the stone again, and hastily kicked some rubbish over it, and lowered a piece of an old figure across it so as to hide it more.
“What is it?” said Lawrence quickly.
“I do not know,” replied Yussuf. “It is our discovery. It may be treasure; it may be anything. Say no word to a soul, and you and I will get a lamp, escape from the prison to-night, and come and examine it, and see what it is. It may be a way out.”
Lawrence would gladly have gone on at once, but Yussuf signed to him to be silent; and it was as well, for he had hardly time to throw himself down on a block of stone, and sham sleep, when the guards came sauntering in and looked suspiciously round. Then, not seeing two of their prisoners, they came on cautiously, and peered over the stones that hid them from where the professor was drawing, to find Yussuf apparently asleep, and Lawrence sharpening his pocket-knife upon a stone.
One of the men came forward and snatched the knife away, saying in his own tongue that boys had no business with knives, after which he stalked off and returned to his old place outside.
“You see,” said Yussuf quietly, “it was no time now for examining the place; wait till night.”
For the first time since he had been a prisoner the hours passed slowly to Lawrence. It seemed as if it would never be night, and every time he met the professor’s or Mr Burne’s eye, they seemed to be taking him to task for keeping a secret from them.
Then, too, Mrs Chumley appeared to be suspecting him, and Chumley drew him aside as if to cross-examine him; but it was only to confide a long story about how severely he had been snubbed that day for wanting to follow the professor to the ruins where he was making his drawings.
At last, though, the guards had thrust in their villainous faces for the last time, according to their custom, and all had lain down as if to sleep.
An hour must have passed, and Lawrence lay with his heart beating, waiting for a summons from Yussuf; but it seemed as if one would never come, and the lad was about to give up and conclude that their guide had decided not to go that night, when a hand came out of the darkness and touched his face, while a pair of lips almost swept his ear, and a voice whispered:
“Rise softly, and follow me.”
Lawrence needed no second invitation, and, rising quickly, he followed Yussuf to where the rug hung over the door.
“Bend down low, and follow me,” whispered the Turk. “The guards are nearly asleep.”
He drew the rug a little on one side, and Lawrence saw where the two men were huddled up in their sheepskin cloaks.
“Do as I do,” whispered Yussuf.
The moon was shining, and the part where the guards sat was well in the light; but a black shadow was cast beneath the walls of the great building, and by stooping down and keeping in this, the evading pair were able to get beyond the ken of the guards, and though lights shone out from one ruined building, whether from fire or lamp could not be told, not a soul was about, and they were able to keep on till the inhabited part was left behind and the old temple reached.
“It was a dangerous thing to do, Lawrence effendi,” said the guide. “I repented promising to bring you, for the men might have fired.”
“Never mind that,” whispered Lawrence. “We are safe now. Have you brought a light?”
“Yes,” was the reply; and, by the moonlight which shone through a gap, Yussuf led the way among the broken stones to the back of the old altar, where, after feeling about, he found the side of the stone, lifted it right up, and leaned it against a broken column.
Then, after a word of warning, he stooped down and struck a match, but the draught that blew up the opening extinguished it on the instant.
Another and another shared the same fate, after giving them a glimpse of a ragged set of stone steps; and as it was evident that no light could be obtained that way, Yussuf took the little lamp he had brought into a corner of the building, lit it, and sheltering it inside his loose garment, he came back to where Lawrence waited listening.
“I’ll go first,” said Yussuf. “Mind how you come.”
He lowered himself into the hole, and descended a few steps.
“It is quite safe,” he said. “Come down;” and Lawrence descended to stand by his side.
“Shelter this lamp a minute,” whispered Yussuf. “I must close the stone, or the light will be out.”
Lawrence took the lamp, the perspiration standing on his forehead the while, as he felt that this was something like being Aladdin, and descending into the cave in search of the wonderful lamp.
“Suppose,” he thought, “that Yussuf should step out and leave him in this horrible place to starve and die. Nobody would ever guess that he was there, and no one would hear his cries. What was the place—a tomb? And had Yussuf gone and left him?”
There was a low dull hollow sound as the stone descended into its place, and a cry rose to the lad’s lips, but it had no utterance, for Yussuf said softly from above:
“Now you may show the light, and we can see where we are.”
Lawrence drew a breath of relief as he took the light from his breast, and saw that he was standing upon a very rough flight of stone steps, with the rugged wall of rock on either side.
Yussuf took the lamp and held it up, showing a rough arch of great stones over their heads, and the square opening over a rough landing where they had descended, while on either side the rock looked as if at some time it had been split, and left a space varying from four to six feet wide, the two sides being such that, if by some convulsion of nature they were closed, they would have fitted one into the other.
“Follow close behind me,” said Yussuf. “This must lead into some vault or perhaps burial-place. You are not frightened?”
“Yes, I am,” said Lawrence in a low tone.
“Shall we go back?”
“No, but I cannot help being a little alarmed.”
Yussuf laughed softly.
“No wonder,” he said. “I feel a little strange myself. But listen, Lawrence; what we have to fear is a hole or crack in the rock into which we might fall, so keep your eyes on the ground.”
But their path proved very easy, always a steep descent, sometimes cut into stairs, sometimes merely a rugged slope, and always arched over by big uncemented stones.
No vault came in sight, no passage broke off to right or left; it was always the same steep descent—a way to some particular pine made by the ancients, who had utilised the crevice or split in the rock, and arched it over to make this rugged passage.
“I think I understand,” said Yussuf, when they had gone on descending for quite three hundred yards.
“What is it?” said Lawrence; “a tomb?”
“No.”
“A treasure chamber?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“There must be a spring of good water somewhere down at the bottom, and this was of great value to the people who built this place on the rock. Shall we go any farther?”
“Yes, I want to see the spring,” said Lawrence. “I am not so frightened now.”
“There is quite a current of air here,” said Yussuf, when they had descended another hundred yards or so. “The spring must be in the open air, and out by the mountain side.”
Lawrence was too intent upon his feet to answer, and they descended another fifty yards, when Yussuf stopped, for the way was impeded by a piled-up mass of fallen stones, and on looking up to see if they were from the roof they found that the arching had ceased, and that the roof was the natural rock of wedged-in masses fallen from above.
“We can get no farther,” said Yussuf, holding the lamp above his head.
“Look, look!” said Lawrence softly; “there is a light out there.”
Yussuf looked straight before him; and placing the lamp upon the ground, and shading it with his coat, there, sure enough, not more than a dozen yards away, was a patch of light—blight moonlight.
“I was wrong,” said Yussuf calmly; “this is not the way to a spring, but a road from that temple down to some pathway along by the side of the mountain, and closed up by these fallen stones. Lawrence effendi, we shall not want my ropes to descend from the walls. You have found a way out of the old place that has lain hidden for hundreds of years.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes; and that we have only to set to work and clear away these stones sufficiently to reach the entrance, and then we can escape.”
“Let us begin, then, at once,” cried Lawrence joyously.
“No; we will go back now, and examine the way, so as to make sure that our course up and down is safe. Then we will get back, and be satisfied with our night’s work.”
“Yes,” said Yussuf, when he reached the stone again; “it is all quite plain. I could come up and down here in the dark, and there will be light enough at the bottom in the daytime to see what to do.”
He raised the stone after extinguishing his lamp, and they both stepped out; the stone was lowered into its place, a little earth and dust thrown over it and a few fragments of rubbish, and then the midnight wanderers stole back to the prison, but only to stop short in the shadow with Lawrence chilled by horror. For, as they were about to step up to the portal, one of the guards yawned loudly, rose, and walked to the rug, drew it aside, and looked in.
He stood there gazing in so long, that it seemed as if he must have discovered that there were absentees; but, just as Lawrence was in despair, he dropped the curtain, walked back to his companion, and sat down with his back to the portal.
Yussuf wasted no time, but glided along in the shadow, and Lawrence followed; but as he reached the portal he kicked against a piece of loose stone and the guards sprang up.
Lawrence would have stood there petrified, but Yussuf dragged him in, hurried him across the interior, threw him down, and took his place behind him.
“Pretend to be asleep,” he whispered; and he turned his face away, as the steps of the guards were heard, and they lifted the rug curtain and came in with a primitive kind of lantern, to look round and see if all were there, being satisfied on finding them apparently asleep, and going back evidently believing it was a false alarm.
“Safe this time, Yussuf,” whispered Lawrence.
“Yes,” said the guide. “Now sleep in peace, for you have discovered a way to escape.”
Chapter Forty One.The Time for Flight.“And you are sure, Yussuf?” said Mr Preston two days later.“Yes, effendi. I have been there alone twice since, and in a few hours I had moved enough stones to let me through to the light, and in a few hours more I can make the passage so easy that a lady can go through.”“And where the light shines in?”“Is just over a narrow rugged path leading down the mountain—a way that has been forgotten. Effendi, after I have been there once again the way is open, and though the path is dangerous it will lead to safety, and we must escape.”“When?” said Mr Preston eagerly.“As soon as we can collect a little food—not much, but enough to carry us to the nearest village where we can get help.”“And our goods—our property?”“Must stay, excellency. Once you are all safe we can send the soldiery by the path by which we left, for the brigands will not know how we have escaped.”“Well, I can save my drawings,” said the professor, “and they will be worth all the journey, as we have no ransom to pay.”The next day Mr Burne was let into the secret, but it was decided not to tell the Chumleys till they were awakened on the night of the attempt.It was hard work to keep down the feeling of elation so as not to let the chief see that the captives were full of hope, for he came day by day to visit them and complain about the length of time his messengers were gone.But the secret was well kept, and those who shared it, in obedience to Yussuf’s suggestion, began to store away portions of their provisions so as to be prepared at any moment for a journey which might take them for many days through the mountains away from village or beaten track.“I shall leave this place with regret,” the professor said with a sigh; “but I must say I do not relish paying for my stay with every shilling I have scraped together during my life.”“No. Let’s get away, Preston,” said Mr Burne. “Oh, if I could only commence an action against these scoundrels for our imprisonment! I’d make them smart.”They were sitting together among the ruins, and their thoughts naturally reverted to Yussuf and his reticent ways, for two days had passed since he had made any communication, and he had seemed to be more retiring than ever.The sun was shining brightly, and warmed the stones where they sat, but the air seemed to be piercingly cold, and Mr Burne shivered more than once, and got up to walk about.“I shall not be sorry to get down out of the mountains,” he said. “What do you say, Lawrence?”“Oh! I’ve liked the stay up here very well, it has all been so new and different; and besides, I have been so well, and I feel so strong.”“Yes, you are better, my boy,” said Mr Burne, nodding his head approvingly.“I used to feel tired directly I moved,” continued Lawrence, “but now I scarcely ever feel tired till quite night. Yussuf says it is the mountain air.”“Yes,” said the professor dryly, “it is the mountain air. Where is Yussuf?”“Here, excellency,” said their guide; and they all started with surprise, he had approached so quietly. “I was coming to tell you that I have been up to the top of the old temple, and have at length traced the ancient path. I have only seen parts of it here and there, but I can make out the direction it takes, and it is right opposite to that by which we came.”“But where does it lead?” said the professor.“Away west, effendi—where, I cannot say; but let us get out of this place and I will lead you in safety somewhere.”“But the old path—is it very dangerous?” said Mr Burne.“I went out upon it last night in the darkness, and followed it for a couple of miles, excellency. It is dangerous, but with care we can get safely along.”“You have quite cleared the passage, then?” said the professor.“Right to the mouth, effendi. There, so as not to excite notice, I have only left a hole big enough to crawl from. Not that anyone could see, except from the mountain on the other side, and nobody is ever there.”“When do we go, then?” said Lawrence eagerly.“If their excellencies are willing, to-morrow night,” said Yussuf. “Every hour I am expecting to see the messenger return, and you, gentlemen, forced to agree to some terms by which in honour you will be bound to pay heavy amounts, and then it will not be worth while to escape.”“I say, look here, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne, “are you real or only sham?”Yussuf frowned slightly.“Your excellency never trusted me,” he replied proudly.“I did not at first, certainly,” said the old lawyer. “I’ll go so far as to say that in the full swing of my suspicions I was almost ready to think that you had been playing into the brigands’ hands and had sold us.”“Oh, Mr Burne!” cried Lawrence reproachfully.“You hold your tongue, boy. You’re out of court. You haven’t been a lawyer for nearly forty years; I have.”“I have tried hard to win Mr Burne’s confidence,” said Yussuf gravely. “I am sorry I have failed.”“But you have not failed, my good fellow,” cried the old lawyer. “I only say, Are you a real Turk or a sham?”“Will your excellency explain?” said Yussuf with dignity. “I speak your tongue, and understand plain meanings, but when there are two thoughts in a word I cannot follow.”“I mean, my dear fellow, you so thoroughly understand the thoughts and ways of English gentlemen that it is hard to think you are a born Turk.”“Oh!” said Yussuf smiling. “I have been so much with them, excellency, and—I have tried to learn.”“There’s a lesson for you, Lawrence,” said the professor smiling. “Well, then, Yussuf, to-morrow night.”“Yes, excellency.”“Then, had we not better tell the Chumleys?”Yussuf was silent for a few moments.“I am sorry about them,” he said at last. “We cannot leave them behind, for it would mean their death; but if we fail in our escape, it will be through them. No, excellency, say no word till we are ready to start, and then say, ‘Come!’”“You are right, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne. “That woman would chatter all over the place if she knew: say nothing, and we must make the best of them. But I say, isn’t it turning very cold?”“Yes, excellency, we are high up in the mountains. There is no other place so high as this, and if we do not go soon the winter will be upon us.”“Winter? not yet,” said the professor.“Your excellency forgets it is winter in the mountains when it may be only autumn in the plains.”
“And you are sure, Yussuf?” said Mr Preston two days later.
“Yes, effendi. I have been there alone twice since, and in a few hours I had moved enough stones to let me through to the light, and in a few hours more I can make the passage so easy that a lady can go through.”
“And where the light shines in?”
“Is just over a narrow rugged path leading down the mountain—a way that has been forgotten. Effendi, after I have been there once again the way is open, and though the path is dangerous it will lead to safety, and we must escape.”
“When?” said Mr Preston eagerly.
“As soon as we can collect a little food—not much, but enough to carry us to the nearest village where we can get help.”
“And our goods—our property?”
“Must stay, excellency. Once you are all safe we can send the soldiery by the path by which we left, for the brigands will not know how we have escaped.”
“Well, I can save my drawings,” said the professor, “and they will be worth all the journey, as we have no ransom to pay.”
The next day Mr Burne was let into the secret, but it was decided not to tell the Chumleys till they were awakened on the night of the attempt.
It was hard work to keep down the feeling of elation so as not to let the chief see that the captives were full of hope, for he came day by day to visit them and complain about the length of time his messengers were gone.
But the secret was well kept, and those who shared it, in obedience to Yussuf’s suggestion, began to store away portions of their provisions so as to be prepared at any moment for a journey which might take them for many days through the mountains away from village or beaten track.
“I shall leave this place with regret,” the professor said with a sigh; “but I must say I do not relish paying for my stay with every shilling I have scraped together during my life.”
“No. Let’s get away, Preston,” said Mr Burne. “Oh, if I could only commence an action against these scoundrels for our imprisonment! I’d make them smart.”
They were sitting together among the ruins, and their thoughts naturally reverted to Yussuf and his reticent ways, for two days had passed since he had made any communication, and he had seemed to be more retiring than ever.
The sun was shining brightly, and warmed the stones where they sat, but the air seemed to be piercingly cold, and Mr Burne shivered more than once, and got up to walk about.
“I shall not be sorry to get down out of the mountains,” he said. “What do you say, Lawrence?”
“Oh! I’ve liked the stay up here very well, it has all been so new and different; and besides, I have been so well, and I feel so strong.”
“Yes, you are better, my boy,” said Mr Burne, nodding his head approvingly.
“I used to feel tired directly I moved,” continued Lawrence, “but now I scarcely ever feel tired till quite night. Yussuf says it is the mountain air.”
“Yes,” said the professor dryly, “it is the mountain air. Where is Yussuf?”
“Here, excellency,” said their guide; and they all started with surprise, he had approached so quietly. “I was coming to tell you that I have been up to the top of the old temple, and have at length traced the ancient path. I have only seen parts of it here and there, but I can make out the direction it takes, and it is right opposite to that by which we came.”
“But where does it lead?” said the professor.
“Away west, effendi—where, I cannot say; but let us get out of this place and I will lead you in safety somewhere.”
“But the old path—is it very dangerous?” said Mr Burne.
“I went out upon it last night in the darkness, and followed it for a couple of miles, excellency. It is dangerous, but with care we can get safely along.”
“You have quite cleared the passage, then?” said the professor.
“Right to the mouth, effendi. There, so as not to excite notice, I have only left a hole big enough to crawl from. Not that anyone could see, except from the mountain on the other side, and nobody is ever there.”
“When do we go, then?” said Lawrence eagerly.
“If their excellencies are willing, to-morrow night,” said Yussuf. “Every hour I am expecting to see the messenger return, and you, gentlemen, forced to agree to some terms by which in honour you will be bound to pay heavy amounts, and then it will not be worth while to escape.”
“I say, look here, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne, “are you real or only sham?”
Yussuf frowned slightly.
“Your excellency never trusted me,” he replied proudly.
“I did not at first, certainly,” said the old lawyer. “I’ll go so far as to say that in the full swing of my suspicions I was almost ready to think that you had been playing into the brigands’ hands and had sold us.”
“Oh, Mr Burne!” cried Lawrence reproachfully.
“You hold your tongue, boy. You’re out of court. You haven’t been a lawyer for nearly forty years; I have.”
“I have tried hard to win Mr Burne’s confidence,” said Yussuf gravely. “I am sorry I have failed.”
“But you have not failed, my good fellow,” cried the old lawyer. “I only say, Are you a real Turk or a sham?”
“Will your excellency explain?” said Yussuf with dignity. “I speak your tongue, and understand plain meanings, but when there are two thoughts in a word I cannot follow.”
“I mean, my dear fellow, you so thoroughly understand the thoughts and ways of English gentlemen that it is hard to think you are a born Turk.”
“Oh!” said Yussuf smiling. “I have been so much with them, excellency, and—I have tried to learn.”
“There’s a lesson for you, Lawrence,” said the professor smiling. “Well, then, Yussuf, to-morrow night.”
“Yes, excellency.”
“Then, had we not better tell the Chumleys?”
Yussuf was silent for a few moments.
“I am sorry about them,” he said at last. “We cannot leave them behind, for it would mean their death; but if we fail in our escape, it will be through them. No, excellency, say no word till we are ready to start, and then say, ‘Come!’”
“You are right, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne. “That woman would chatter all over the place if she knew: say nothing, and we must make the best of them. But I say, isn’t it turning very cold?”
“Yes, excellency, we are high up in the mountains. There is no other place so high as this, and if we do not go soon the winter will be upon us.”
“Winter? not yet,” said the professor.
“Your excellency forgets it is winter in the mountains when it may be only autumn in the plains.”
Chapter Forty Two.A Sad Failure.At last!The Chumleys were fast asleep; the wood fire had burned down into a faint glow that played over the white ashes, and the air seemed to be piercingly cold.The guards had looked in according to their custom, and then proved how cold it was by stopping by the fire for about a quarter of an hour, talking in a low tone together before going out.The provisions, principally bread and raisins, were taken out of Yussuf’s hiding-place, where he kept the worsted rope, and this latter he wore twisted round his chest, beneath his loose garment, ready in case it might be wanted. The food was made into six packages, and each took his load, leaving two for the Chumleys, and now a short conversation ensued about Hamed, whom they had only seen once since their imprisonment. For the driver had been sent to another part of the old ruins with the horses.The professor was saying that they ought to try and get Hamed away with them; but Yussuf declared it would be impossible, and said that as a compatriot he was perfectly safe.Under these circumstances it was decided to leave him; and now, all being ready, Lawrence was deputed to awaken the Chumleys, and bid them rise and follow.“How do you feel, my lad?” said the professor, with his lips to Lawrence’s ears.“Nervous, sir.”“No wonder. It seems cruel to have to leave so much behind, but never mind. Now, Burne, are you strung up?”“Yes, quite,” was the reply.“Ready, Yussuf?”“Yes, excellency, and mind, once more, all are to follow me close under the walls. Not a word is to be spoken.”“But you will pause for a few minutes in the subterranean passage,” whispered the professor. “I must see that.”“You will have ample time, excellency. Now, Lawrence effendi, awaken your friends.”Lawrence drew a long breath, and stooping down, laid his hand upon Mr Chumley’s shoulder.“Don’t!” was the gruff response.“Mr Chumley, wake up. Hush! Don’t speak.”“Eh, what? Time to get up. Why don’t you pull aside the rug?”“Hush, sir! Wake up.”“Eh, what? Is my wife ill?”“No, no. Are you awake now?”“Awake? Yes, of course; what is it?”“We have a way open to escape. Wake your wife. Tell her not to speak.”“But she will. Oceans!” said the little man sadly.“She must not speak. Wake her; tell her there is a way of escape, and then you two must carry these parcels of food, and follow in silence.”“I say, Lawrence, old man, is it real?” he whispered.“Quite! Quick! You are wasting time.”“But won’t they shoot at us?”“Not if you are both silent,” whispered Lawrence; and creeping on all-fours the little man reached over, awakened his wife, and communicated the news.To the surprise of all she woke up quite collected, grasped the idea at once, and rose to her feet. Then putting on her head-dress, and throwing a shawl over her shoulders and securing the ends—“I am ready,” she said.“Bravo!” whispered the professor. “Now, silence, for we have to pass the guards.”“But where are we going?” said Chumley.“Chumley! Oh, that tongue!” whispered his wife.“Silence!” said Yussuf decidedly; and then after a pause, “Ready?”There was no reply, and taking this for consent, he bade the professor come last, after holding the rugs aside till all had passed, and then he stepped out, and stepped back again, for a piercingly cold breath of air had darted into the prison.“It is snowing,” he said in a low whisper.“Well?” said Mr Burne, “we are going down from the mountain, and we shall leave it behind, shall we not?”“Yes, perhaps,” said the guide, in a doubting manner. “Shall we risk it?”“Yes, certainly,” said Mr Preston. “We must go now.”“It is well,” said Yussuf, and he stepped out, the others following in his steps; but when it came to Lawrence’s turn, to his intense surprise he found that his feet sank deep in the softly gathering flakes. He looked to his left as he kept on by the wall; but the guards were not visible though their voices could be heard, and it was evident that they had sheltered themselves among some stones where they were gossiping together.Not a sound was heard but the rush of wind as the little party crept on—their footsteps were effectually muffled, and in a few minutes they were beyond the hearing of the guards, even had they spoken; but they had to keep close together, for the drifting snow was blinding, and hid their footprints almost as soon as they were formed.Away to their left lay the ruins which formed the robbers’ town, and farther away, and still more to the left, lay the way to the entrance, where there was quite a grand room, and a goodly fire burned; but the fugitives could only see snow: the air was thick with it, and they kept on until Yussuf stopped so suddenly that they struck one against the other.“What is it?” said Lawrence, who was next to him now, the Chumleys having asked him to go before them.“I have lost my way,” said Yussuf angrily; “the snow has deceived me. The old temple should be here.”“Well, here it is,” said Lawrence, who had stretched out his hand. “Here is one of the columns.”“Ha!” ejaculated Yussuf; “good boy! Yes, the fourth; I know it by this broken place in the side. Two more steps and we are in shelter.”It was a proof of his admirable powers as a guide to have found the way in the midst of the blinding snow, but no one thought of that. Every mind was strained to the greatest pitch of tension; and when Yussuf led the way into the old temple, and the footsteps were heard upon the marble floor, Mr Burne started and thought that their pursuers were upon them.“Here is the place,” said Yussuf. “Lawrence effendi,” he continued as he raised the stone, “you know the way; go first and lead. I must come last and close the stone, so that they may not know the way we have come.”“Is there any danger?” said Mrs Chumley excitedly.“None at all,” replied Lawrence. “It is only to walk down some rough steps.”She said no more, but let herself be helped down through the opening, and in five minutes they were all in what seemed to be quite a warm atmosphere, waiting in the intense darkness while Yussuf carefully closed the stone.“There is nothing to mind,” said Lawrence. “I have been all the way down here, and I will tell you when the steps end and the rough slopes begin.”He spoke aloud now, in quite a happy buoyant manner which affected the rest, and their spirits rose still higher when Yussuf suddenly struck a match and lit the lamp which his forethought had provided.This done they stood in the rugged arched passage to shake off the clinging snow with which they were covered, and with spirits rising higher still the whole party followed Yussuf, who, lamp in hand, now went to the front.“I should like to stop here for an hour or two to examine this roofing and the steps,” said the professor. “Pre-Roman evidently. We have plenty of time, have we not?”“Effendi, it would be madness,” cried Yussuf angrily. “Come on!”“I have done, and you are master of the situation,” said the professor quietly; while Mr Burne burst into a laugh, took snuff, and then blew his nose, so that it echoed strangely along the passage.“Effendi!” cried Yussuf reproachfully.“Tut-tut!” exclaimed the old lawyer. “I thought we were safe.”“How much farther have we to go?” said Mrs Chumley at last.“We are at the bottom,” replied Yussuf. “Mind, there are stones here. You must mind or you will hurt yourselves, and the wind will put out the lamp directly. There is an opening here, and when I have thrust out a stone or two we shall be on a rocky path. You will all follow me closely. Better take hold of hands; then, if one slips, all can help.”But the wind did not blow out the lamp; and as they stood watching Yussuf creep along a narrow horizontal passage the light shone upon the dazzling snow which had filled up the hole, and after thrusting at it for a few minutes and scraping it down their guide desisted and crept back.“I feared this,” he said sadly.“Feared! Feared what?” cried Mr Burne.“The snow, effendi. The way is blocked; the snow must be drifting down from the mountains and falling in sheets.”“But it will not last, man?”“Perhaps for days, excellency; and even if the hole were open, I see it would be utter madness to brave the dangers of that shelf of rock in the face of this storm.”“Oh, nonsense!” cried Mr Burne; “let’s go on. We cannot get back.”“His excellency does not know the perils of a mountain snow-storm or he would not say this. Suppose that we could force our way out through that snow, how are we to find the buried path with a precipice of a thousand feet below? No, excellencies, we are stopped for the present and must get back.”“How unfortunate!” cried the professor; “but Yussuf is right—we must return and wait for a better time. Can we get back unseen?”“We must try, excellency; but even if we are caught, it will not be till after we are out of the passage and the stone is down. This must be kept a secret.”The way back did not seem long. The stone was closed, and, low-spirited and disheartened, they crossed the rugged floor of the old temple and stood once more amid the snow, which had already fallen knee-deep and in places drifted far deeper. But, in spite of the confusion caused by what answered to intense darkness, Yussuf led them straight to the prison-hall, and then close under its walls till the rug yielded to his hand, and as he drew it aside quite a pile of snow crumbled into the well-warmed place and began to melt.They were safely back without discovery; and there was nothing left but to shake off the clinging snow, and, after hiding their packages, try to rid themselves of their disappointment in sleep.
At last!
The Chumleys were fast asleep; the wood fire had burned down into a faint glow that played over the white ashes, and the air seemed to be piercingly cold.
The guards had looked in according to their custom, and then proved how cold it was by stopping by the fire for about a quarter of an hour, talking in a low tone together before going out.
The provisions, principally bread and raisins, were taken out of Yussuf’s hiding-place, where he kept the worsted rope, and this latter he wore twisted round his chest, beneath his loose garment, ready in case it might be wanted. The food was made into six packages, and each took his load, leaving two for the Chumleys, and now a short conversation ensued about Hamed, whom they had only seen once since their imprisonment. For the driver had been sent to another part of the old ruins with the horses.
The professor was saying that they ought to try and get Hamed away with them; but Yussuf declared it would be impossible, and said that as a compatriot he was perfectly safe.
Under these circumstances it was decided to leave him; and now, all being ready, Lawrence was deputed to awaken the Chumleys, and bid them rise and follow.
“How do you feel, my lad?” said the professor, with his lips to Lawrence’s ears.
“Nervous, sir.”
“No wonder. It seems cruel to have to leave so much behind, but never mind. Now, Burne, are you strung up?”
“Yes, quite,” was the reply.
“Ready, Yussuf?”
“Yes, excellency, and mind, once more, all are to follow me close under the walls. Not a word is to be spoken.”
“But you will pause for a few minutes in the subterranean passage,” whispered the professor. “I must see that.”
“You will have ample time, excellency. Now, Lawrence effendi, awaken your friends.”
Lawrence drew a long breath, and stooping down, laid his hand upon Mr Chumley’s shoulder.
“Don’t!” was the gruff response.
“Mr Chumley, wake up. Hush! Don’t speak.”
“Eh, what? Time to get up. Why don’t you pull aside the rug?”
“Hush, sir! Wake up.”
“Eh, what? Is my wife ill?”
“No, no. Are you awake now?”
“Awake? Yes, of course; what is it?”
“We have a way open to escape. Wake your wife. Tell her not to speak.”
“But she will. Oceans!” said the little man sadly.
“She must not speak. Wake her; tell her there is a way of escape, and then you two must carry these parcels of food, and follow in silence.”
“I say, Lawrence, old man, is it real?” he whispered.
“Quite! Quick! You are wasting time.”
“But won’t they shoot at us?”
“Not if you are both silent,” whispered Lawrence; and creeping on all-fours the little man reached over, awakened his wife, and communicated the news.
To the surprise of all she woke up quite collected, grasped the idea at once, and rose to her feet. Then putting on her head-dress, and throwing a shawl over her shoulders and securing the ends—
“I am ready,” she said.
“Bravo!” whispered the professor. “Now, silence, for we have to pass the guards.”
“But where are we going?” said Chumley.
“Chumley! Oh, that tongue!” whispered his wife.
“Silence!” said Yussuf decidedly; and then after a pause, “Ready?”
There was no reply, and taking this for consent, he bade the professor come last, after holding the rugs aside till all had passed, and then he stepped out, and stepped back again, for a piercingly cold breath of air had darted into the prison.
“It is snowing,” he said in a low whisper.
“Well?” said Mr Burne, “we are going down from the mountain, and we shall leave it behind, shall we not?”
“Yes, perhaps,” said the guide, in a doubting manner. “Shall we risk it?”
“Yes, certainly,” said Mr Preston. “We must go now.”
“It is well,” said Yussuf, and he stepped out, the others following in his steps; but when it came to Lawrence’s turn, to his intense surprise he found that his feet sank deep in the softly gathering flakes. He looked to his left as he kept on by the wall; but the guards were not visible though their voices could be heard, and it was evident that they had sheltered themselves among some stones where they were gossiping together.
Not a sound was heard but the rush of wind as the little party crept on—their footsteps were effectually muffled, and in a few minutes they were beyond the hearing of the guards, even had they spoken; but they had to keep close together, for the drifting snow was blinding, and hid their footprints almost as soon as they were formed.
Away to their left lay the ruins which formed the robbers’ town, and farther away, and still more to the left, lay the way to the entrance, where there was quite a grand room, and a goodly fire burned; but the fugitives could only see snow: the air was thick with it, and they kept on until Yussuf stopped so suddenly that they struck one against the other.
“What is it?” said Lawrence, who was next to him now, the Chumleys having asked him to go before them.
“I have lost my way,” said Yussuf angrily; “the snow has deceived me. The old temple should be here.”
“Well, here it is,” said Lawrence, who had stretched out his hand. “Here is one of the columns.”
“Ha!” ejaculated Yussuf; “good boy! Yes, the fourth; I know it by this broken place in the side. Two more steps and we are in shelter.”
It was a proof of his admirable powers as a guide to have found the way in the midst of the blinding snow, but no one thought of that. Every mind was strained to the greatest pitch of tension; and when Yussuf led the way into the old temple, and the footsteps were heard upon the marble floor, Mr Burne started and thought that their pursuers were upon them.
“Here is the place,” said Yussuf. “Lawrence effendi,” he continued as he raised the stone, “you know the way; go first and lead. I must come last and close the stone, so that they may not know the way we have come.”
“Is there any danger?” said Mrs Chumley excitedly.
“None at all,” replied Lawrence. “It is only to walk down some rough steps.”
She said no more, but let herself be helped down through the opening, and in five minutes they were all in what seemed to be quite a warm atmosphere, waiting in the intense darkness while Yussuf carefully closed the stone.
“There is nothing to mind,” said Lawrence. “I have been all the way down here, and I will tell you when the steps end and the rough slopes begin.”
He spoke aloud now, in quite a happy buoyant manner which affected the rest, and their spirits rose still higher when Yussuf suddenly struck a match and lit the lamp which his forethought had provided.
This done they stood in the rugged arched passage to shake off the clinging snow with which they were covered, and with spirits rising higher still the whole party followed Yussuf, who, lamp in hand, now went to the front.
“I should like to stop here for an hour or two to examine this roofing and the steps,” said the professor. “Pre-Roman evidently. We have plenty of time, have we not?”
“Effendi, it would be madness,” cried Yussuf angrily. “Come on!”
“I have done, and you are master of the situation,” said the professor quietly; while Mr Burne burst into a laugh, took snuff, and then blew his nose, so that it echoed strangely along the passage.
“Effendi!” cried Yussuf reproachfully.
“Tut-tut!” exclaimed the old lawyer. “I thought we were safe.”
“How much farther have we to go?” said Mrs Chumley at last.
“We are at the bottom,” replied Yussuf. “Mind, there are stones here. You must mind or you will hurt yourselves, and the wind will put out the lamp directly. There is an opening here, and when I have thrust out a stone or two we shall be on a rocky path. You will all follow me closely. Better take hold of hands; then, if one slips, all can help.”
But the wind did not blow out the lamp; and as they stood watching Yussuf creep along a narrow horizontal passage the light shone upon the dazzling snow which had filled up the hole, and after thrusting at it for a few minutes and scraping it down their guide desisted and crept back.
“I feared this,” he said sadly.
“Feared! Feared what?” cried Mr Burne.
“The snow, effendi. The way is blocked; the snow must be drifting down from the mountains and falling in sheets.”
“But it will not last, man?”
“Perhaps for days, excellency; and even if the hole were open, I see it would be utter madness to brave the dangers of that shelf of rock in the face of this storm.”
“Oh, nonsense!” cried Mr Burne; “let’s go on. We cannot get back.”
“His excellency does not know the perils of a mountain snow-storm or he would not say this. Suppose that we could force our way out through that snow, how are we to find the buried path with a precipice of a thousand feet below? No, excellencies, we are stopped for the present and must get back.”
“How unfortunate!” cried the professor; “but Yussuf is right—we must return and wait for a better time. Can we get back unseen?”
“We must try, excellency; but even if we are caught, it will not be till after we are out of the passage and the stone is down. This must be kept a secret.”
The way back did not seem long. The stone was closed, and, low-spirited and disheartened, they crossed the rugged floor of the old temple and stood once more amid the snow, which had already fallen knee-deep and in places drifted far deeper. But, in spite of the confusion caused by what answered to intense darkness, Yussuf led them straight to the prison-hall, and then close under its walls till the rug yielded to his hand, and as he drew it aside quite a pile of snow crumbled into the well-warmed place and began to melt.
They were safely back without discovery; and there was nothing left but to shake off the clinging snow, and, after hiding their packages, try to rid themselves of their disappointment in sleep.
Chapter Forty Three.The Wintry Guardian.For four days the snow fell incessantly. The aspect of the whole place was changed, and it was only with difficulty that the appointed guards managed to bring provisions to the prisoners.Fortunately an ample supply of fuel was stacked by the door, so that a good fire was kept; but on the fourth day no food was brought whatever, and but for the store they had in concealment matters would have looked bad, for there was no knowing how much longer the storm would last.But on the fifth day the sun shone out brilliantly, and the brigands and their wives were all busy with shovels digging ways from place to place; and when at last the prison-hall was reached it was through a cutting ten feet deep, the snow being drifted right up to the top of the lofty door.The scene was dazzling; the ruins piled-up with the white snow, the mountains completely transformed as they glittered in the sun, and above all the sky seemed to be of the purest blue.The cold was intense, but it was a healthy inspiriting cold, and the disappointment and confinement of the past days were forgotten as the glorious sunshine sent hope and life into every heart.In the course of the day the chief came, bringing with him piled on the shoulders of a lad more rugs and fur coats for his prisoners; and a long conversation ensued, in which he told them through Yussuf that he expected his messengers would have been back before now, but they had probably been stopped by the snow, and they must wait patiently now for their return.A further conversation took place at the door between the chief and Yussuf, and then the former departed.“Well, Yussuf,” said Mr Preston anxiously; “what does he say? Not execution yet from his manner?”“No, excellency; it is as I feared.”“Feared?” cried Mrs Chumley excitedly; “are we to be kept closer prisoners?”“No, madam; you are to have greater freedom now.”“Freedom?” all chorused.“Yes,” said Yussuf; “you are to be at liberty to go where you please in the old city, but it will not be far, on account of the snow.”“And outside the town?” said the professor.“Outside the town, excellency,” said Yussuf sadly. “You do not realise that we had a narrow escape that night.”“Escape?”“Yes, of being destroyed; the snow everywhere is tremendous. Even if no more comes, we shall be shut in here, perhaps, for months.”“Shut in?”“Yes; the mountains are impassable, and there is nothing for it but to submit to fate.”“But the snow will soon melt in this sunshine.”“No, excellency, only on the surface, unless there is a general thaw. You forget where we are, high up in the Dagh. Even where the snow melts, it will freeze every night, and make the roads more impassable. As to our path by the side of the precipice it will not be available for months.”There was a serious calm in Yussuf’s words that was most impressive. It seemed so hard, too, just as they had been on the point of escaping, for the winter to have closed in upon them so soon, and with such terrible severity; but that their case was hopeless seemed plain enough, for the guards were withdrawn from their door, and in the afternoon they relieved the tedium of their confinement by walking along the cuttings that had been made.On every hand it could be seen that the brigands were accustomed to such events as this; firing and food had been laid up in abundance, and whether the winter, or an enemy in the shape of the government troops, made the attack, they were prepared.“There is nothing for it, Lawrence, but to accept our position, I suppose,” said the professor.“No,” said Mr Burne, who overheard the remark; “but suppose my snuff does not hold out, what then?”Before anyone could answer, he made a suggestion of his own.“Necessity is the mother of invention,” he said. “I should have to bake some of this Turkish tobacco, and grind it between stones.”Then a week glided away, and during that time, being left so much to their own devices, the brigands keeping in the shelter of their homes, the professor visited the ancient passage with Yussuf, and carefully explored it.“Ancient Greek,” he said when he returned, “like the greater part of this old city. Some of it has been modernised by the Romans, but that passage is certainly ancient Greek, about—”“But the way out—the way to escape, Mr Preston,” said Mrs Chumley eagerly, “surely that is of more consequence than your dates.”“To be sure, yes; I forgot, ma’am. Yussuf made a careful investigation of the mouth of the passage where it opens upon the side of the precipice; in fact, I went out with him. The track is many feet deep in snow, and it would be utter folly to attempt to escape.”“Oh, dear me!” sighed Mrs Chumley.“We must bear our lot patiently till the first thaw comes, and then try and make our way over the mountains.”These were the words of wisdom, and for long weary weeks the prisoners had to be content with their position. The brigands did a little snow-cutting, and then passed the rest of their time sleeping by the fires they kept up night and day. Food was plentiful, and the chief behaved civilly enough, often paying his prisoners a visit, after which they were entirely left to their own resources.“We ought to be low-spirited captives,” Mr Burne used to say, as he beat his hands together to keep them warm; “but somehow nobody seems very miserable.”And this was a fact, for every day the professor kept them busy with shovels digging away the snow from some piece of ruin he wished to measure and draw, while after the chief had been, and noted what was done, he said something half contemptuously to his men, and no interference took place.Day after day, with a few intervals of heavy snow and storm, the dazzling sunshine continued, with the brilliant blue sky, and the mountains around looking like glistening silver.Everywhere the same deep pure white snow, in waves, in heaps, in drifts, and deep furrows, silvery in the day, and tinged with rose, purple, scarlet, and gold as the sun went down.They were so shut in that an army of men could not have dug a way to them; and, knowing this, the brigands dropped into a torpid state, like so many hibernating bears, while the professor’s work went on.“Do you know, Lawrence,” he said one day, laying down his pencil to rub his blue fingers, “I think I shall make a great book of this when I have finished it. I have got the castle done, the principal walls, the watch-towers and gates, and if there was not so much snow I should have finished the temple; but, bless my heart, boy, how different you do look!”“Different, sir!” said Lawrence laughing. “Oh, I suppose the wind has made my nose red.”“I did not mean that: I meant altogether. You look so well.”Lawrence had been handling a shovel, throwing snow away from the base of an old Greek column, and he smiled as he said:“Oh, I feel very well, sir.”He need not have spoken, for the mountain air had worked wonders. Nature was proving the best doctor, and the enforced stay in that clear pure air, with the incessant exercise, had completely changed the lad.
For four days the snow fell incessantly. The aspect of the whole place was changed, and it was only with difficulty that the appointed guards managed to bring provisions to the prisoners.
Fortunately an ample supply of fuel was stacked by the door, so that a good fire was kept; but on the fourth day no food was brought whatever, and but for the store they had in concealment matters would have looked bad, for there was no knowing how much longer the storm would last.
But on the fifth day the sun shone out brilliantly, and the brigands and their wives were all busy with shovels digging ways from place to place; and when at last the prison-hall was reached it was through a cutting ten feet deep, the snow being drifted right up to the top of the lofty door.
The scene was dazzling; the ruins piled-up with the white snow, the mountains completely transformed as they glittered in the sun, and above all the sky seemed to be of the purest blue.
The cold was intense, but it was a healthy inspiriting cold, and the disappointment and confinement of the past days were forgotten as the glorious sunshine sent hope and life into every heart.
In the course of the day the chief came, bringing with him piled on the shoulders of a lad more rugs and fur coats for his prisoners; and a long conversation ensued, in which he told them through Yussuf that he expected his messengers would have been back before now, but they had probably been stopped by the snow, and they must wait patiently now for their return.
A further conversation took place at the door between the chief and Yussuf, and then the former departed.
“Well, Yussuf,” said Mr Preston anxiously; “what does he say? Not execution yet from his manner?”
“No, excellency; it is as I feared.”
“Feared?” cried Mrs Chumley excitedly; “are we to be kept closer prisoners?”
“No, madam; you are to have greater freedom now.”
“Freedom?” all chorused.
“Yes,” said Yussuf; “you are to be at liberty to go where you please in the old city, but it will not be far, on account of the snow.”
“And outside the town?” said the professor.
“Outside the town, excellency,” said Yussuf sadly. “You do not realise that we had a narrow escape that night.”
“Escape?”
“Yes, of being destroyed; the snow everywhere is tremendous. Even if no more comes, we shall be shut in here, perhaps, for months.”
“Shut in?”
“Yes; the mountains are impassable, and there is nothing for it but to submit to fate.”
“But the snow will soon melt in this sunshine.”
“No, excellency, only on the surface, unless there is a general thaw. You forget where we are, high up in the Dagh. Even where the snow melts, it will freeze every night, and make the roads more impassable. As to our path by the side of the precipice it will not be available for months.”
There was a serious calm in Yussuf’s words that was most impressive. It seemed so hard, too, just as they had been on the point of escaping, for the winter to have closed in upon them so soon, and with such terrible severity; but that their case was hopeless seemed plain enough, for the guards were withdrawn from their door, and in the afternoon they relieved the tedium of their confinement by walking along the cuttings that had been made.
On every hand it could be seen that the brigands were accustomed to such events as this; firing and food had been laid up in abundance, and whether the winter, or an enemy in the shape of the government troops, made the attack, they were prepared.
“There is nothing for it, Lawrence, but to accept our position, I suppose,” said the professor.
“No,” said Mr Burne, who overheard the remark; “but suppose my snuff does not hold out, what then?”
Before anyone could answer, he made a suggestion of his own.
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” he said. “I should have to bake some of this Turkish tobacco, and grind it between stones.”
Then a week glided away, and during that time, being left so much to their own devices, the brigands keeping in the shelter of their homes, the professor visited the ancient passage with Yussuf, and carefully explored it.
“Ancient Greek,” he said when he returned, “like the greater part of this old city. Some of it has been modernised by the Romans, but that passage is certainly ancient Greek, about—”
“But the way out—the way to escape, Mr Preston,” said Mrs Chumley eagerly, “surely that is of more consequence than your dates.”
“To be sure, yes; I forgot, ma’am. Yussuf made a careful investigation of the mouth of the passage where it opens upon the side of the precipice; in fact, I went out with him. The track is many feet deep in snow, and it would be utter folly to attempt to escape.”
“Oh, dear me!” sighed Mrs Chumley.
“We must bear our lot patiently till the first thaw comes, and then try and make our way over the mountains.”
These were the words of wisdom, and for long weary weeks the prisoners had to be content with their position. The brigands did a little snow-cutting, and then passed the rest of their time sleeping by the fires they kept up night and day. Food was plentiful, and the chief behaved civilly enough, often paying his prisoners a visit, after which they were entirely left to their own resources.
“We ought to be low-spirited captives,” Mr Burne used to say, as he beat his hands together to keep them warm; “but somehow nobody seems very miserable.”
And this was a fact, for every day the professor kept them busy with shovels digging away the snow from some piece of ruin he wished to measure and draw, while after the chief had been, and noted what was done, he said something half contemptuously to his men, and no interference took place.
Day after day, with a few intervals of heavy snow and storm, the dazzling sunshine continued, with the brilliant blue sky, and the mountains around looking like glistening silver.
Everywhere the same deep pure white snow, in waves, in heaps, in drifts, and deep furrows, silvery in the day, and tinged with rose, purple, scarlet, and gold as the sun went down.
They were so shut in that an army of men could not have dug a way to them; and, knowing this, the brigands dropped into a torpid state, like so many hibernating bears, while the professor’s work went on.
“Do you know, Lawrence,” he said one day, laying down his pencil to rub his blue fingers, “I think I shall make a great book of this when I have finished it. I have got the castle done, the principal walls, the watch-towers and gates, and if there was not so much snow I should have finished the temple; but, bless my heart, boy, how different you do look!”
“Different, sir!” said Lawrence laughing. “Oh, I suppose the wind has made my nose red.”
“I did not mean that: I meant altogether. You look so well.”
Lawrence had been handling a shovel, throwing snow away from the base of an old Greek column, and he smiled as he said:
“Oh, I feel very well, sir.”
He need not have spoken, for the mountain air had worked wonders. Nature was proving the best doctor, and the enforced stay in that clear pure air, with the incessant exercise, had completely changed the lad.