Chapter 6

"Hush!" was the low answer. "It is only a short distance from the castle, but every inch is guarded, and we cannot go direct; we must make for the other side of the valley and come to it from the north."

"What!" cried Toza in amazement, "traverse the whole valley for a tunnel a few yards away?"

"It is the only safe plan," said Paulo. "If you wish to go by the direct way, I must leave you to your own devices."

"I am in your hands," said the brigand with a sigh. "Take me where you will, so long as you lead me to the entrance of the tunnel."

They passed down and down around the heights on which the castle stood, and crossed the purling little river by means of stepping-stones. Once Toza fell into the water, but was rescued by his guide. There was still no alarm from the castle as daylight began to break. As it grew more light they both crawled into a cave which had a low opening difficult to find, and there Paulo gave the brigand his breakfast, which he took from a little bag slung by a strap across his shoulder.

"What are we going to do for food if we are to be days between here and the tunnel?" asked Toza.

"Oh, I have arranged for that, and a quantity of food has been placed where we are most likely to want it. I will get it while you sleep."

"But if you are captured, what am I to do?" asked Toza. "Can you not tell me now how to find the tunnel, as I told you how to find the treasure?"

Paulo pondered over this for a moment, and then said, "Yes; I think it would be the safer way. You must follow the stream until you reach the place where the torrent from the east joins it. Among the hills there is a waterfall, and halfway up the precipice on a shelf of rock there are sticks and bushes. Clear them away, and you will find the entrance to the tunnel. Go through the tunnel until you come to a door, which is bolted on this side. When you have passed through, you will see the end of your journey."

Shortly after daybreak the big bell of the castle began to toll, and before noon the soldiers were beating the bushes all around them. They were so close that the two men could hear their voices from their hiding-place, where they lay in their wet clothes, breathlessly expecting every moment to be discovered.

The conversation of two soldiers, who were nearest them, nearly caused the hearts of the hiding listeners to stop beating.

"Is there not a cave near here?" asked one. "Let us search for it!"

"Nonsense," said the other. "I tell you that they could not have come this far already."

"Why could they not have escaped when the guard changed at midnight?" insisted the first speaker.

"Because Paulo was seen crossing the courtyard at midnight, and they could have had no other chance of getting away until just before daybreak."

This answer seemed to satisfy his comrade, and the search was given up just as they were about to come upon the fugitives. It was a narrow escape, and, brave as the robber was, he looked pale, while Paulo was in a state of collapse.

Many times during the nights and days that followed, the brigand and his guide almost fell into the hands of the minions of the Prince. Exposure, privation, semi-starvation, and, worse than all, the alternate wrenchings of hope and fear, began to tell upon the stalwart frame of the brigand. Some days and nights of cold winter rain added to their misery. They dare not seek shelter, for every habitable place was watched.

When daylight overtook them on their last night's crawl through the valley, they were within a short distance of the waterfall, whose low roar now came soothingly down to them.

"Never mind the daylight," said Toza; "let us push on and reach the tunnel."

"I can go no farther," moaned Paulo; "I am exhausted."

"Nonsense," cried Toza; "it is but a short distance."

"The distance is greater than you think; besides, we are in full view of the castle. Would you risk everything now that the game is nearly won? You must not forget that the stake is your head; and remember what day this is."

"What day is it?" asked the brigand, turning on his guide.

"It is the fifteenth of January, the day on which you were to be executed."

Toza caught his breath sharply. Danger and want had made a coward of him and he shuddered now, which he had not done when he was on his trial and condemned to death.

"How do you know it is the fifteenth?" he asked at last.

Paulo held up his stick, notched after the method of Robinson Crusoe.

"I am not so strong as you are, and if you will let me rest here until the afternoon, I am willing to make a last effort, and try to reach the entrance of the tunnel."

"Very well," said Toza shortly.

As they lay there that forenoon neither could sleep. The noise of the waterfall was music to the ears of both; their long toilsome journey was almost over.

"What did you do with the gold that you found in the mountains?" asked Toza suddenly.

Paulo was taken unawares, and answered, without thinking, "I left it where it was. I will get it after."

The brigand said nothing, but that remark condemned Paulo to death. Toza resolved to murder him as soon as they were well out of the tunnel, and get the gold himself.

They left their hiding-place shortly before twelve o'clock, but their progress was so slow, crawling, as they had to do, up the steep side of the mountain, under cover of bushes and trees, that it was well after three when they came to the waterfall, which they crossed, as best they could, on stones and logs.

"There," said Toza, shaking himself, "that is our last wetting. Now for the tunnel!"

The rocky sides of the waterfall hid them from view of the castle, but Paulo called the brigand's attention to the fact that they could be easily seen from the other side of the valley.

"It doesn't matter now," said Toza; "lead the way as quickly as you can to the mouth of the cavern."

Paulo scrambled on until he reached a shelf about halfway up the cataract; he threw aside bushes, brambles, and logs, speedily disclosing a hole large enough to admit a man.

"You go first," said Paulo, standing aside.

"No," answered Toza; "you know the way, and must go first. You cannot think that I wish to harm you--I am completely unarmed.

"Nevertheless," said Paulo, "I shall not go first. I did not like the way you looked at me when I told you the gold was still in the hills. I admit that I distrust you."

"Oh, very well," laughed Toza, "it doesn't really matter." And he crawled into the hole in the rock, Paulo following him.

Before long the tunnel enlarged so that a man could stand upright.

"Stop!" said Paulo; "there is the door near here."

"Yes," said the robber, "I remember that you spoke of a door," adding, however, "What is it for, and why is it locked?"

"It is bolted on this side," answered Paulo, "and we shall have no difficulty in opening it."

"What is it for?" repeated the brigand.

"It is to prevent the current of air running through the tunnel and blowing away the obstruction at this end," said the guide.

"Here it is," said Toza, as he felt down its edge for the bolt.

The bolt drew back easily, and the door opened. The next instant the brigand was pushed rudely into a room, and he heard the bolt thrust back into its place almost simultaneously with the noise of the closing door. For a moment his eyes were dazzled by the light. He was in an apartment blazing with torches held by a dozen men standing about.

In the centre of the room was a block covered with black cloth, and beside it stood a masked executioner resting the corner of a gleaming axe on the black draped block, with his hands crossed over the end of the axe's handle.

The Prince stood there surrounded by his ministers. Above his head was a clock, with the minute hand pointed to the hour of four.

"You are just in time!" said the Prince grimly; "we are waiting for you!"

"AND THE RIGOUR OF THE GAME."

Old Mr. Saunders went home with bowed head and angry brow. He had not known that Dick was in the habit of coming in late, but he had now no doubt of the fact. He himself went to bed early and slept soundly, as a man with a good conscience is entitled to do. But the boy's mother must have known the hours he kept, yet she had said nothing; this made the matter all the blacker. The father felt that mother and son were leagued against him. He had been too lenient; now he would go to the root of things. The young man would speedily change his ways or take the consequences. There would be no half measures.

Poor old Mrs. Saunders saw, the moment her husband came in, that there was a storm brewing, and a wild fear arose in her heart that her boy was the cause. The first words of the old man settled the question.

"What time did Richard come in last night?"

"I--I don't know," she hesitated. "Shuffling" her husband always called it. She had been a buffer between father and son since Dick was a child.

"Why don't you know? Who let him in?"

She sighed. The secret had long weighed upon her, and she felt it would come out at some hapless moment.

"He has a key," she said at last.

The old man glared in speechless amazement. In his angriest mood he had never suspected anything so bad as this.

"A key! How long has he had a key?"

"About six months. He did not want to disturb us."

"He is very thoughtful! Where does he spend his nights?"

"I don't know. He told me he belongs to a club, where he takes some kind of exercise."

"Did he tell you he exercised with cards? Did he say it was a gambling club?"

"I don't believe it is; I am sure Dick doesn't gamble. Dick is a good boy, father."

"A precious lot you know about it, evidently. Do you think his employer, banker Hammond, has any idea his clerk belongs to a gambling club?"

"I am sure I don't know. Is there any thing wrong? Has any one been speaking to you about Dick?"

"Yes; and not to his credit."

"Oh dear!" cried the mother in anguish. "Was it Mr. Hammond?"

"I have never spoken to Hammond in my life," said the old man, relenting a little when he saw how troubled his wife was. "No, I propose to stop this club business before it gets to the banker's ears that one of his clerks is a nightly attendant there. You will see Richard when he comes home this evening; tell him I wish to have a word or two with him to-night. He is to wait for me here. I will be in shortly after he has had his supper."

"You will not be harsh with him, father. Remember, he is a young man now, so please advise and do not threaten. Angry words can do no good."

"I will do my duty," said the old man, uncompromisingly.

Gentle Mrs. Saunders sighed--for she well knew the phrase about duty. It was a sure prelude to domestic trouble. When the old gentleman undertook to do his duty, he nailed his flag to the mast.

"See that he waits for me to-night," was the parting shot as the old man closed the door behind him.

Mrs. Saunders had had her share of trouble in this world, as every woman must who lives with a cantankerous man. When she could save her son a harsh word, or even a blow, she was content to take either uncomplainingly. The old man's severity had put him out of touch with his son. Dick sullenly resented his boyhood of continual fear. During recent years, when fear had gradually diminished and finally disappeared, he was somewhat troubled to find that the natural affection, which a son should have for his father, had vanished with it. He had, on several occasions, made half-hearted attempts at a better understanding, but these attempts had unfortunately fallen on inopportune moments, when the old man was not particularly gracious toward the world in general, and latterly there had been silence between the two. The young man avoided his father as much as possible; he would not have remained at home, had it not been for his mother. Her steady, unwavering affection for him, her belief in him, and the remembrance of how she had stood up for him, especially when he was in the wrong, had bound her to him with bonds soft as silk and strong as steel. He often felt it would be a pleasure to go wrong, merely to refute his father's ideas regarding the way a child should be brought up. Yet Dick had a sort of admiration for the old man, whose many good qualities were somewhat overshadowed by his brutal temper.

When Richard came home that evening he had his supper alone, as was usual with him. Mrs. Saunders drew her chair near the table, and while the meal went on she talked of many things, but avoided the subject uppermost in her mind, which she postponed until the last moment. Perhaps after all she would not need to ask him to stay; he might remain of his own accord. She watched him narrowly as she talked, and saw with alarm that there was anxiety in his face. Some care was worrying him, and she yearned to have him confide his trouble to her. And yet she talked and talked of other things. She noticed that he made but a poor pretence of eating, and that he allowed her to talk while he made few replies, and those absent-mindedly. At last he pushed back his chair with a laugh that sounded forced.

"Well, mother," he said, "what is it? Is there a row on, or is it merely looming in the horizon? Has the Lord of Creation----"

"Hush, Dick, you mustn't talk in that way. There is nothing much the matter, I hope? I want to speak with you about your club."

Dick looked sharply at his mother for a moment, then he said: "Well, what does father want to know about the club? Does he wish to join?"

"I didn't say your father----"

"No, you didn't say it; but, my dear mother, you are as transparent as glass. I can see right through you and away beyond. Now, somebody has been talking to father about the club, and he is on the war-path. Well, what does he want to know?"

"He said it was a gambling club."

"Right for once."

"Oh, Dick, is it?"

"Certainly it is. Most clubs are gambling clubs and drinking clubs. I don't suppose the True Blues gamble more than others, but I'll bet they don't gamble any less."

"Oh, Dick, Dick, I'm sorry to hear that. And, Dick, my darling boy, do you----"

"Do I gamble, mother? No, I don't. I know you'll believe me, though the old man won't. But it's true, nevertheless. I can't afford it, for it takes money to gamble, and I'm not as rich as old Hammond yet."

"Oh yes, Dick dear, and that reminds me. Another thing your father feared was that Mr. Hammond might come to know you were a member of the club. It might hurt your prospects in the bank," she added, not wishing to frighten the boy with the threat of the dismissal she felt sure would follow the revelation.

Dick threw back his head and roared. For the first time that evening the lines of care left his brow. Then seeing his mother's look of incomprehension, he sobered down, repressing his mirth with some difficulty.

"Mother," he said at last, "things have changed since father was a boy; I'm afraid he hardly appreciates how much. The old terrifying relations between employer and employee do not exist now--at least, that is my experience."

"Still if Mr. Hammond came to know that you spent your evenings at----"

"Mother, listen to me a moment. Mr. Julius Hammond proposed me for membership in the club--my employer! I should never have thought of joining if it hadn't been for him. You remember my last raise in salary? You thought it was for merit, of course, and father thought it was luck. Well, it was neither--or both, perhaps. Now, this is confidential and to yourself only. I wouldn't tell it to any one else. Hammond called me into his private office one afternoon when the bank was closed, and said, 'Saunders, I want you to join the Athletic Club; I'll propose you.' I was amazed and told him I couldn't afford it. 'Yes, you can,' he answered. 'I'm going to raise your salary double the amount of entrance fee and annual. If you don't join I'll cut it down.' So I joined. I think I should have been a fool if I hadn't."

"Dick, I never heard of such a thing! What in the world did he want you to join for?"

"Well, mother," said Dick, looking at his watch, "that's a long story. I'll tell it to you some other evening. I haven't time to-night. I must be off."

"Oh, Dick, don't go to-night. Please stay at home, for my sake."

Dick smoothed his mother's grey hair and kissed her on the forehead. Then he said: "Won't to-morrow night do as well, mother? I can't stay to-night. I have an appointment at the club."

"Telegraph to them and put it off. Stay for my sake to-night, Dick. I never asked you before."

The look of anxiety came into his face again.

"Mother, it is impossible, really it is. Please don't ask me again. Anyhow, I know it is father who wants me to stay, not you. I presume he's on the duty tack. I think what he has to say will keep till to- morrow night. If he must work off some of his sentiments on gambling, let him place his efforts where they are needed--let him tackle Jule Hammond, but not during business hours."

"You surely don't mean to say that a respected business man--a banker like Mr. Hammond--gambles?"

"Don't I? Why, Hammond's a plunger from Plungerville, if you know what that means. From nine to three he is the strictest and best business man in the city. If you spoke to him then of the True Blue Athletic Club he wouldn't know what you were talking about. But after three o'clock he'll take any odds you like to offer, from matching pennies to backing an unknown horse."

Mrs. Saunders sighed. It was a wicked world into which her boy had to go to earn his living, evidently.

"And now, mother, I really must be off. I'll stay at home to-morrow night and take my scolding like a man. Good-night."

He kissed her and hurried away before she could say anything more, leaving her sitting there with folded hands to await, with her customary patience and just a trifle of apprehension, the coming of her husband. There was no mistaking the heavy footfall. Mrs. Saunders smiled sadly as she heard it, remembering that Dick had said once that, even if he were safe within the gates of Paradise, the sound of his father's footsteps would make the chills run up his backbone. She had reproved the levity of the remark at the time, but she often thought of it, especially when she knew there was trouble ahead--as there usually was.

"Where's Richard? Isn't he home yet?" were the old man's first words.

"He has been home, but he had to go out again. He had an appointment."

"Did you tell him I wanted to speak with him?"

"Yes, and he said he would stay home to-morrow night."

"Did he know what I said to-night?"

"I'm not sure that I told him you----"

"Don't shuffle now. He either knew or he did not. Which is it?"

"Yes, he knew, but he thought it might not be urgent, and he----"

"That will do. Where is his appointment?"

"At the club, I think."

"Ah-h-h!" The old man dwelt on the exclamation as if he had at last drawn out the reluctant worst. "Did he say when he would be home?"

"No."

"Very well. I will wait half-an-hour for him, and if he is not in by that time I will go to his club and have my talk with him there."

Old Mr. Saunders sat grimly down with his hat still on, and crossed his hands over the knob of his stout walking-stick, watching the clock that ticked slowly against the wall. Under these distressing circumstances the old woman lost her presence of mind and did the very thing she should not have done. She should have agreed with him, but instead of that she opposed the plan and so made it inevitable. It would be a cruel thing, she said, to shame their son before his friends, to make him a laughing-stock among his acquaintances. Whatever was to be said could be said as well to-morrow night as to-night, and that in their own home, where, at least, no stranger would overhear. As the old man made no answer but silently watched the clock, she became almost indignant with him. She felt she was culpable in entertaining even the suspicion of such a feeling against her lawful husband, but it did seem to her that he was not acting judiciously towards Dick. She hoped to turn his resentment from their son to herself, and would have welcomed any outburst directed against her alone. In this excited state, being brought, as it were, to bay, she had the temerity to say--

"You are wrong about one thing, and you may also be wrong in thinking Dick--in--in what you think about Dick."

The old man darted one lowering look at her, and though she trembled, she welcomed the glance as indicating the success of her red herring.

"What was I wrong about?"

"You were wrong--Mr. Hammond knows Dick is a member of the club. He is a member himself and he insisted Dick should join. That's why he raised his salary."

"A likely story! Who told you that?"

"Dick told me himself."

"And you believed it, of course!" Saunders laughed in a sneering, cynical sort of way and resumed his scrutiny of the clock. The old woman gave up the fight and began to weep silently, hoping, but in vain, to hear the light step of her son approaching the door. The clock struck the hour; the old man rose without a word, drew his hat further over his brow, and left the house.

Up to the last moment Mrs. Saunders hardly believed her husband would carry out his threat. Now, when she realised he was determined, she had one wild thought of flying to the club and warning her son. A moment's consideration put that idea out of the question. She called the serving-maid, who came, as it seemed to the anxious woman, with exasperating deliberation.

"Jane," she cried, "do you know where the Athletic Club is? Do you know where Centre Street is?"

Jane knew neither club nor locality.

"I want a message taken there to Dick, and it must go quickly. Don't you think you could run there----"

"It would be quicker to telegraph, ma'am," said Jane, who was not anxious to run anywhere. "There's telegraph paper in Mr. Richard's room, and the office is just round the corner."

"That's it, Jane; I'm glad you thought of it. Get me a telegraph form. Do make haste."

She wrote with a trembling hand, as plainly as she could, so that her son might have no difficulty in reading:--

"_Richard Saunders, Athletic Club, Centre Street_.

"Your father is coming to see you. He will be at the club before half-an-hour."

"There is no need to sign it; he will know his mother's writing," said Mrs. Saunders, as she handed the message and the money to Jane; and Jane made no comment, for she knew as little of telegraphing as did her mistress. Then the old woman, having done her best, prayed that the telegram might arrive before her husband; and her prayer was answered, for electricity is more speedy than an old man's legs.

Meanwhile Mr. Saunders strode along from the suburb to the city. His stout stick struck the stone pavement with a sharp click that sounded in the still, frosty, night air almost like a pistol shot. He would show both his wife and his son that he was not too old to be master in his own house. He talked angrily to himself as he went along, and was wroth to find his anger lessening as he neared his destination. Anger must be very just to hold its own during a brisk walk in evening air that is cool and sweet.

Mr. Saunders was somewhat abashed to find the club building a much more imposing edifice than he had expected. There was no low, groggy appearance about the True Blue Athletic Club. It was brilliantly lit from basement to attic. A group of men, with hands in pockets, stood on the kerb as if waiting for something. There was an air of occasion about the place. The old man inquired of one of the loafers if that was the Athletic Club.

"Yes, it is," was the answer; "are you going in?"

"I intend to."

"Are you a member?"

"No."

"Got an invitation?"

"No."

"Then I suspect you won't go in. We've tried every dodge ourselves."