THE CREAKING BOOTS
The night grew darker, and the mist denser. At half past eleven, Volpetti, followed by Brosseur, took the road leading to the wharf, the latter carrying the traveling bags and other baggage. Volpetti had the box of documents and Brosseur grumbled at the heaviness of his own load, which prevented his keeping up with his master. Being scarcely able to see him, he followed by listening to the creaking of his boots. But he was obliged to walk so slowly that the creaking became fainter and fainter, seeming finally to die out altogether. Suddenly, he heard boots again and hurried on, succeeding at last in overtaking the owner of them; just then this owner turned and, with no warning, dealt Brosseur a blow on the head so effective that the valet rolled over into the mud, emitting only a smothered bellow. René leaned over his victim, turning on the light from his lantern. A stream of blood tricked down his face and he seemed insensible. Thrusting his hand into Brosseur's breast and pockets, he extracted a bunch of keys. With these he opened the wallets, but no box did he find. Then, shaking the fellow, to convince himself that he was still unconscious, René hurried after Volpetti. A moment later Giacinto stumbled upon the wounded man.
"The Marquis knows how to strike!" he exclaimed. "But he has yet to learn how to remove his victims." And the Sicilian flung the baggage out into the sea. Then, with the greatest difficulty, he pushed the half living body of his enemy over the embankment into the water.
"Santa Maria be praised! The danger is over," and, crossing himself, he hurried on.
When Volpetti heard, instead of Brosseur's heavy tread, light feet very near him, he instinctively clasped the box to his breast and clutched his dagger. Then he turned, calling out:
"Brosseur! Rascal! Where are you?"
For answer, a heavy blow descended on his head. Volpetti grasped his pistol and turned, but his adversary flung his strong arms around him, seized the pistol, which he pressed to the other's head, saying:
"Give me the box or I shall blow your brains out."
Volpetti struggled and tried to reach his dagger, but René twisted the refractory arm until it snapped in the socket, making its owner roar with pain. Louis Pierre had just leaped ashore, and, guided by the commotion of the struggle, he ran to the group, which he expected to consist of the two Italians.
Just then Giacinto ran up, crying gleefully:
"Aha! Do you recognize Giacinto Palli? Let us throw him into the sea."
"Not here," said Louis Pierre, binding his hands and feet. "He might save himself."
"We can hang weights to him."
"Where is the servant?"
"The fat fellow? He is saying his prayers with the fish."
"Are you two men the enemies of this spy?" asked René.
"To the death," replied Giacinto, gagging his enemy with a pocket handkerchief.
"Mine also. He has robbed me like a dog. I must leave Dover tonight for this deed."
"Do you promise to maintain absolute secrecy concerning what occurs aboard the Polipheme tonight?"
"I give you a gentleman's word," replied René.
The three men lifted the never so helpless, but still lucky, Volpetti down the stairway aboard the sloop in waiting.