The Ivory Child, H. Rider Haggard [english novels for students .txt] 📗
- Author: H. Rider Haggard
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“Who knows, sir?” said Mr. Savage prophetically. “There are folk who say that this old castle is haunted, which after what I have seen to-night I can well believe. If you should chance to meet a ghost looking, let us say, like those black villains, Harum and Scarum, or whatever they call themselves—well, sir, two’s better company than one.”
I considered that bell but was loath to ring it for the reasons I have given. Then I went outside the room and looked. As I had hoped might be the case, there ran the wire on the face of the wall connected along its length by other wires with the various rooms it passed.
I set to work and followed that wire. It was not an easy job; indeed once or twice it reminded me of that story of the old Greek hero who found his way through a labyrinth by means of a silken thread. I forget whether it were a bull or a lady he was looking for, but with care and perseverance he found one or the other, or it may have been both.
Down staircases and various passages I went with my eye glued upon the wire, which occasionally got mixed up with other wires, till at length it led me through a swing door covered with red baize into what appeared to be a modern annexe to the castle. Here at last it terminated on the spring of an alarming-looking and deep-throated bell that hung immediately over a certain door.
On this door I knocked, hoping that it might be that of Mr. Savage and praying earnestly that it did not enclose the chaste resting-place of the cook or any other female. Too late, I mean after I had knocked, it occurred to me that if so my position would be painful to a degree. However in this particular Fortune stood my friend, which does not always happen to the virtuous. For presently I heard a voice which I recognized as that of Mr. Savage, asking, not without a certain quaver in its tone,
“Who the devil is that?”
“Me,” I replied, being flustered.
“‘Me’ won’t do,” said the voice. “‘Me’ might be Harum or it might be Scarum, or it might be someone worse. Who’s ‘Me’?”
“Allan Quatermain, you idiot,” I whispered through the keyhole.
“Anna who? Well, never mind. Go away, Hanna. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Then I kicked the door, and at length, very cautiously, Mr. Savage opened it.
“Good heavens, sir,” he said, “what are you doing here, sir? Dressed too, at this hour, and with the handle of a pistol sticking out of your pocket—or is it—the head of a snake?” and he jumped back, a strange and stately figure in a long white nightshirt which apparently he wore over his underclothing.
I entered the room and shut the door, whereon he politely handed me a chair, remarking,
“Is it ghosts, sir, or are you ill, or is it Harum and Scarum, of whom I have been thinking all night? Very cold too, sir, being afraid to pull up the bedclothes for fear lest there might be more reptiles in them.” He pointed to his dress-coat hanging on the back of another chair with both the pockets turned inside out, adding tragically, “To think, sir, that this new coat has been a nest of snakes, which I have hated like poison from a child, and me almost a teetotaller!”
“Yes,” I said impatiently, “it’s Harum and Scarum as you call them. Take me to Lord Ragnall’s bedroom at once.”
“Ah! sir, burgling, I suppose, or mayhap worse,” he exclaimed as he threw on some miscellaneous garments and seized a life-preserver which hung upon a hook. “Now I’m ready, only I hope they have left their snakes behind. I never could bear the sight of a snake, and they seem to know it—the brutes.”
In due course we reached Lord Ragnall’s room, which Mr. Savage entered, and in answer to a stifled inquiry exclaimed,
“Mr. Allan Quatermain to see you, my lord.”
“What is it, Quatermain?” he asked, sitting up in bed and yawning. “Have you had a nightmare?”
“Yes,” I answered, and Savage having left us and shut the door, I told him everything as it is written down.
“Great heavens!” he exclaimed when I had finished. “If it had not been for you and your intuition and courage——”
“Never mind me,” I interrupted. “The question is—what should be done now? Are you going to try to arrest these men, or will you—hold your tongue and merely cause them to be watched?”
“Really I don’t know. Even if we can catch them the whole story would sound so strange in a law-court, and all sorts of things might be suggested.”
“Yes, Lord Ragnall, it would sound so strange that I beg you will come at once to see the evidences of what I tell you, before rain or snow obliterates them, bringing another witness with you. Lady Longden, perhaps.”
“Lady Longden! Why one might as well write to The Times. I have it! There’s Savage. He is faithful and can be silent.”
So Savage was called in and, while Lord Ragnall dressed himself hurriedly, told the outline of his story under pain of instant dismissal if he breathed a word. Really to watch his face was as good as a play. So astonished was he that all he could ejaculate was—
“The black-hearted villains! Well, they ain’t friendly with snakes for nothing.”
Then having made sure that Miss Holmes was still in her room, we went down the twisting stair and through the side doorway, locking the door after us. By now the dawn was breaking and there was enough light to enable me in certain places where the snow that fell after the gale remained, to show Lord Ragnall and Savage the impress of the little bedroom slippers which Miss Holmes wore, and of my stockinged feet following after.
In the plantation things were still easier, for every detail of the movements of the four of us could be traced. Moreover, on the back drive was the spoor of the horses and the marks of the wheels of the carriage that had been brought for the purposes of the abduction. Also my great good fortune, for this seemed to prove my theory, we found a parcel wrapped in native linen that appeared to have fallen out of the carriage when Harût and Marût made their hurried escape, as one of the wheels had gone over it. It contained an Eastern woman’s dress and veil, intended, I suppose, to be used in disguising Miss Holmes, who thence-forward would have appeared to be the wife or daughter of one of the abductors.
Savage discovered this parcel, which he lifted only to drop it with a yell, for underneath it lay a torpid snake, doubtless one of those that had been used in the performance.
Of these discoveries and many other details, on our return to the house, Lord Ragnall made full notes in a pocket-book, that when completed were signed by all three of us.
There is not much more to tell, that is of this part of the story. The matter was put into the hands of detectives who discovered that the Easterns had driven to London, where all traces of the carriage which conveyed them was lost. They, however, embarked upon a steamer called the Antelope, together with two native women, who probably had been provided to look after Miss Holmes, and sailed that very afternoon for Egypt. Thither, of course, it was useless to follow them in those days, even if it had been advisable to do so.
To return to Miss Holmes. She came down to breakfast looking very charming but rather pale. Again I sat next to her and took some opportunity to ask her how she had rested that night.
She replied, Very well and yet very ill, since, although she never remembered sleeping more soundly in her life, she had experienced all sorts of queer dreams of which she could remember nothing at all, a circumstance that annoyed her much, as she was sure that they were most interesting. Then she added,
“Do you know, Mr. Quatermain, I found a lot of mud on my dressing-gown this morning, and my bedroom slippers were also a mass of mud and wet through. How do you account for that? It is just as though I had been walking about outside in my sleep, which is absurd, as I never did such a thing in my life.”
Not feeling equal to the invention of any convincing explanation of these phenomena, I upset the marmalade pot on to the table in such a way that some of it fell upon her dress, and then covered my retreat with profuse apologies. Understanding my dilemma, for he had heard something of this talk, Lord Ragnall came to my aid with a startling statement of which I forget the purport, and thus that crisis passed.
Shortly after breakfast Scroope announced to Miss Manners that her carriage was waiting, and we departed. Before I went, as it chanced, I had a few private words with my host, with Miss Holmes, and with the magnificent Mr. Savage. To the last, by the way, I offered a tip which he refused, saying that after all we had gone through together he could not allow “money to come between us,” by which he meant, to pass from my pocket to his. Lord Ragnall asked me for both my English and my African addresses, which he noted in his pocket-book. Then he said,
“Really, Quatermain, I feel as though I had known you for years instead of three days; if you will allow me I will add that I should like to know a great deal more of you.” (He was destined to do so, poor fellow, though neither of us knew it at the time.) “If ever you come to England again I hope you will make this house your headquarters.”
“And if ever you come to South Africa, Lord Ragnall, I hope you will make my four-roomed shanty on the Berea at Durban your headquarters. You will get a hearty welcome there and something to eat, but little more.”
“There is nothing I should like better, Quatermain. Circumstances have put me in a certain position in this country, still to tell you the truth there is a great deal about the life of which I grow very tired. But you see I am going to be married, and that I fear means an end of travelling, since naturally my wife will wish to take her place in society and the rest.”
“Of course,” I replied, “for it is not every young lady who has the luck to become an English peeress with all the etceteras, is it? Still I am not so sure but that Miss Holmes will take to travelling some day, although I am sure that she would do better to stay at home.”
He looked at me curiously, then asked,
“You don’t think there is anything really serious in all this business, do you?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I answered, “except that you will do well to keep a good eye upon your wife. What those Easterns tried to do last night and, I think, years ago, they may try again soon, or years hence, for evidently they are patient and determined men with much to win. Also it is a curious coincidence that she should have that mark upon her which appeals so strongly to Messrs. Harût and Marût, and, to be brief, she is in some ways different from most young women. As she said to me herself last night, Lord Ragnall, we are surrounded by mysteries; mysteries of blood, of inherited spirit, of this world generally in which it is probable that we all descended from quite a few common ancestors. And beyond these are other mysteries of the measureless universe to which we belong, that may already be exercising their strong and secret influences upon us, as perhaps, did we know it, they have done for millions of years in the Infinite whence we came and whither we go.”
I suppose I spoke somewhat solemnly, for he said,
“Do you know you frighten me a little, though I don’t quite understand what you mean.” Then we parted.
With Miss Holmes my conversation was shorter. She remarked,
“It has been a great pleasure to me to meet you. I do not remember anybody with whom I have found myself in so much sympathy—except one of course. It is strange to think that when we meet again I shall be a married woman.”
“I do not suppose we shall ever
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