CHAPTER XV
THE EXPLORATION OF THE TUNNEL
Bringing his binoculars to bear upon the stretcher party of the "Wolves," Mr Buckley saw that an accident had occurred.
"You look through my glasses, Atherton," said the Scoutmaster. "You'll know who it is."
Atherton did so. He was half afraid that there had been a shooting accident, but a glance removed that anxiety. The injured Scout he recognised as Coventry minor, and since Phillips understood that on no account was he to be accompanied by anyone else while carrying the gun, the logical conclusion was that the injured Scout had not received his hurt by this means.
"There's Hayes at the landing-place," announced Atherton. "He's calling us up by semaphore. Reply to him, Baker, and I'll read the message."
Baker stood upon the end of the stone pier so that his dark green shirt showed up plainly against the white-washed wall behind him.
"Coventry has fallen down a hole. Concussion. Still unconscious. Fetch doctor," read Atherton.
"Hurry up and bring the doctor along with you, Everest," said Mr Buckley. "Green and Baker will remain here with one of the boats. How many have you?"
"Two, sir," replied the Leader. "One is on the Island side."
"Signal to those fellows to bring that boat over, then," continued the Scoutmaster. "We can then get across and see what's wrong."
While Everest was on his way to Dr Carraway—for the Scouts had made it a point of finding out where the doctor lived almost as soon as they arrived at Polkerwyck—the Scoutmaster and the four "Otters" crossed to the Island. During the passage Hayes and Armstrong told their comrades what had occurred, and how Phillips had discovered the butler's hiding-place.
"Hiding-place," repeated Atherton. "Most likely a tunnel communicating with Polkerwyck House. Didn't Sir Silas say that the House used to be an old monastic building, and that it was partially rebuilt on the existing foundations? What puzzles me, though, is why Tassh did not return by the tunnel on the night of the wreck, since he evidently came to the Island by that way."
"You've a fine site for a camp here, lads," remarked Mr Buckley, as the two patrols met. "It is unfortunate, though, that your holiday should be marred by this accident."
The Scoutmaster knelt by the unconscious Scout.
"Yes, he's had a nasty blow," he said, observing Coventry's skin was pale and cold, his pulse feeble, and his breathing slow and punctuated by distressing sighs. "Raise his head a little more; we ought to place him in a darkened room as soon as possible. In any case, one of you stand so that the shadow falls across his face."
"There's a small cave down by the landingplace, sir," said Phillips. "It will not be so far for the doctor to come."
"Very good," assented the Scoutmaster. "Lead on. Steady now, stretcher-bearers. Mind you don't slip on this steep path."
Carefully little Coventry was carried into the cave, where in the semi-gloom he was carefully tended by two of his comrades. Mr Buckley also remained in the cave, awaiting the arrival of the doctor.
The rest of the Scouts returned to the camp, when, under Atherton's directions, steps were taken to keep Tassh under observation. Three of the "Wolves" were sent to take cover close to that part of the cliff overhanging the Tea Caves. A strong party, carefully concealed, occupied the ruined oratory, in order to cut off the rogue's retreat by force, if necessary; while between the ruins and the Tea Caves relays were posted in order to hasten to the assistance of the outlying Scouts should occasion arise.
It was not long before the doctor arrived on the scene, and was escorted to the cave where the patient lay.
"You've done excellently, lads," he remarked to the Scouts in attendance. "He has had a severe blow, but youth and clean living are in his favour. He'll soon be all right. Meanwhile, keep him here in the dark until nearly sunset. See that his feet and arms are kept warm. When the twilight gathers in, you must bring him across to Polkerwyck. I will make arrangements for him to be nursed at my house."
"It's awfully good of you, doctor," said Mr Buckley, warmly.
"Nonsense: we're used to it. Every summer I have on an average a dozen similar cases. Visitors seem to have an insane desire to climb the cliffs. They are not used to it, they look down, and then the mischief is done. Well, I cannot do more at present. Give him a draught of this every hour, and keep him warm, especially when bringing him across the bay in the boat."
In duty bound Mr Buckley gave information to the police that Tassh was seen on the Island. At the Scouts' earnest request he did not say by what means the butler got there, since the lads wished to have the honour of exploring the tunnel.
Within a very short time Seal Island was invaded. A dozen county police, drawn from the neighbourhood, nearly the whole of the detachment from Refuge Point coastguard station, and almost all the male population of Polkerwyck flocked to the place. Every nook and cranny was investigated, the caves systematically explored, but without result. Although nearly thirty people searched the ruined oratory not one noticed the granite lid covering the pit, in spite of the fact that the Scouts, with an idea of fair play, took no steps to conceal the joints in the stone floor with dust.
Tired out with their exertions, the Scouts retired to rest as soon as Coventry minor had been carried to the doctor's house. Undisturbed by the noise of the untrained searchers the lads slept soundly, till the morning revealed Seal Island untenanted save by themselves and a couple of policemen, who, at the Scoutmaster's suggestion, had installed themselves in the old oratory to keep a long and fruitless vigil.
"He's slipped through our fingers, sure enough, sir," remarked one of the constables. "All night we've been on the alert. No doubt he's managed to swim across to the mainland when he found we were hard on his track. We'll be going now, sir, and leave you in peace and quietness, so to speak. If you see or hear anything, sir, happen you won't mind sending one of your young chaps to give us the tip?"
As soon as the policemen were well clear of the Island, and the Scouts had had breakfast, steps were taken to continue the search for Sir Silas Gwinnear's butler, and also to explore the tunnel which they had good reason to believe communicated with the mainland.
The latter task was the more enviable. Both patrols wished to undertake that particular business, and urged their respective claims till the Scoutmaster had gently and firmly to remind them of their sense of discipline.
"You cannot all explore the tunnel," he added. "One patrol will be quite sufficient for that. The other will keep an eye on the camp, guard the landing-place and the approach to the Tea Caves. I suppose you have no objection to decide the matter by lots?"
Walking away for a few steps, Mr Buckley gathered a handful of long grass. From this he selected two blades, one much longer than the other. These he held in his hand, with an inch of each showing at equal length.
"Now, Scouts, the one who draws the longest blade represents the patrol to explore the tunnel. One of the Tenderfoots can draw: that's right, Scott."
Reggie Scott pulled out one of the blades of grass from the Scoutmaster's clenched fist. It was the long one.
"Good: the 'Otters' will explore the tunnel. The 'Wolves' will take up positions I have indicated on this map. It is a very clear map, Simpson, by the way. You did it excellently. Already by its means I have quite a comprehensive knowledge of Seal Island."
Carrying ropes, two camp lanterns, and a supply of candles and matches, the "Otters" made their way to the ruined oratory, where the stone covering to the pit was soon raised.
"I do not mean to go with you, lads," said the Scoutmaster. "I feel confident you will get on all right without me. Rope your men, Atherton; keep one well ahead of the rest in case there is an accumulation of poisonous gases, which I do not for one moment suppose is the case. So long as the candles burn brightly there is no danger on that score."
"Tassh came through all right, sir," remarked Everest. "That was only yesterday."
"And once, at least, according to all accounts, he was prevented from returning. So it is evident that at times there is some obstruction. However, 'Be prepared' and you'll come out on top."
One by one the "Otters" were lowered into the gaping pit, Mr Buckley letting Tenderfoot Sayers down last of all. This done, he took up his position at the top of a spiral stone staircase that terminated abruptly almost on a level with the roofless walls. Here, with only the upper portion of his face showing above the masonry, he was able to command a panoramic view of the Island and Seal Bay. Moreover, he was ready to render assistance should the "Otters" find the tunnel impracticable and have to return by the same way as they went.
The "Otters" found themselves in the mouth of a passage hewn out of the solid rock.
[Illustration: "In broken-step form the Scouts carried their comrade towards the camp."—Page 168.]
It was roughly from five to six feet in height and thirty inches wide. The floor was ankle deep in dry dust that showed unmistakable signs of the same person having passed to and fro on several occasions.
With the candle-light glimmering on the walls the Scouts advanced, Atherton leading by twenty paces, the rest following at shorter intervals and linked together by a light yet strong rope. The progress was slow, for Atherton, cautious lest he should stumble into a hidden pitfall, systematically sounded the ground with his staff at every other step.
For nearly three hundred paces the tunnel sloped steeply downwards, the walls remaining perfectly dry—a circumstance that showed the passage was still under the Island. Beyond that distance, although the tunnel was still on the down grade, the roof and walls showed signs of moisture, while in place of the dry dust the floor was ankle deep in slime. Overhead a deep muffled roar betokened the fact that the sea was only separated from the Scouts by a few feet of rock, through which the sound of the ground-swell was audible.
Suddenly Atherton came to a halt, and held his lantern above his head.
"Anything wrong?" asked Phillips.
"It's all right here," he announced. "The air is quite fresh. I've found something: looks like a seat with some carving above it."
On the right-hand side of the tunnel, in a cavity three feet in depth and extending the whole height of the passage, was a stone bench. Above the latter were several carvings in relief, all more or less damaged by the ravages of time and the moisture of the rock.
"Here's a crucifix," said Atherton, pointing to a Cornish cross. "And there's some inscription underneath. I can't quite make out the letters, though."
"I can read one word," said Green. "The first letter is supposed to be a P. The word is 'Pax.'"
"And here's a date: MCCLI—that's 1251," announced Atherton. "This must be a sort of half-way resting place for the monks who visited the oratory. If it's not half way it's at the lowest level of the tunnel, for the gradient is now on the ascent. But let's go on. I wonder where we shall find ourselves when we come to the end."
"Why, at the end, of course," replied Everest. "Where else did you expect?"
The forward movement was resumed, Atherton placing the previous distance between him and the next Scout. At length the rocky walls began to show less signs of moisture, and the Scouts knew that they had passed under Seal Bay and were now not far from, if not actually underneath, the village of Polkerwyck.
"Hulloa, here's some steps," said Atherton in a low voice. "Come along, you fellows; before we go any farther we must search this place. It won't do to leave any unexplored places behind us. Green and Mayne, you come with me, the others can stand by. If I call for assistance, Everest and Baker can come to our aid. Five of us ought to be a match for Tassh, if he's hiding here."
"Do you think he is hiding here, Atherton?" asked Tenderfoot Sayers in a whisper.
"He may be. Since he hasn't been found on the Island he may be lying low in this place till the coast is clear. We'll soon find out. After me, Green."
Holding the lantern in his left hand and well away from his body, Atherton commenced the ascent of a spiral flight of steps. Unlike those in many old ruins scattered about the country, these steps were in a good state of preservation, showing that during the flight of centuries they had been but comparatively little used.
The Leader ascended cautiously. At any moment he might be assailed by the fugitive from justice. The Scouts were strangers to the place and therefore at a disadvantage; a trap might be laid for them, while in addition they were handicapped by having to carry a lantern which would render them conspicuous to anyone lurking in the darkness. Yet, in spite of these drawbacks, Atherton and his two companions had embarked upon an enterprise from which there was no turning back until the task of exploring the place was completed.
At the twentieth step the Leader discovered that he was level with the topmost part of the staircase. On all sides was a cavernous space that was almost all in darkness, save for that portion within the field of the rays of the lantern.
"What's that?" whispered Green, laying a detaining hand on Atherton's wrist. "There's some one moving."
"Yes, I can hear footsteps," assented Atherton, as the muffled sounds of a firm, steady tread came from the dark recesses of the vault-like room. "They are coming this way. Stand by with your staff, Green. I'll challenge him."
In spite of his customary coolness, Atherton felt his heart beating violently.
"Who's there?" he called.
There was no reply. The noise of the footsteps continued as if the person walking was quite unconcerned at being called upon to explain who he was.
"Who's there?" repeated the Scout, in a louder voice.
There was silence for a few moments, then the sound of a person walking was resumed, only, instead of approaching, footsteps were obviously those of some one retiring.
Atherton waited no longer. Gaining the floor, he raised the lantern above his head. The comparatively feeble rays gleamed upon a glittering object standing on the ground close to the wall of the underground room.
Resisting the temptation to pounce upon and examine the article, the Scout waited till his companions rejoined him, and then began an examination of the place. It was circular and barely five yards in diameter. The roof was domed, the highest part being about ten feet from the floor. The walls, hewn from the solid rock, were smooth and uninterrupted by any visible openings communicating with elsewhere. To all appearances the Scouts had struck a blind alley.
Having thus taken stock of their surroundings, the Scouts discovered that the glittering object was a massive silver bowl, filled with forks and spoons of the same precious metal.
"Hidden treasure," gasped Mayne.
"Not much," retorted Green. "Stolen from Sir Silas, that's what it is. You can see the stuff isn't tarnished, and there's no dust on it."
"Georgian silver," added Atherton, examining the markings on the spoons and forks. "It must be some of that rascal Tassh's plunder. We may find some more here. Ha! What's that?"
A rumble, momentarily growing louder, could be heard, the sound apparently coming from overhead. Then, waning, it ceased to be audible.
"A cart—that's what it is, and the sound we heard just before that was a man walking overhead. It's my belief that the place is immediately under the only street in Polkerwyck," declared Atherton.
With their staves, the Scouts sounded the walls, floor and ceiling. There was no trace of any secret openings. The walls were solid enough; only the distance between the dome and the open air was thin enough to enable the noise of the traffic to be heard with comparative distinctness.
"All right up there?" called out Phillips from the foot of the spiral staircase.
"Yes," replied Atherton. "We'll be with you in a minute."
"What shall we do with this lot?" asked Green, indicating the silver. "It's jolly heavy."
"We'll take it with us. We can put a few of the forks and spoons in our pockets and the bowl can be slung from a staff and carried by two of us. Mind how you carry it, Green."
As soon as the three Scouts returned to their waiting companions, the silver was distributed for the sake of easier carriage, and the march of exploration resumed. Presently, instead of continuing the upward slope, the tunnel dived with considerable abruptness. At the bottom of the dip there was water on the floor to the depth of six inches, while from the signs of excessive moisture on the walls and ceiling it was fairly conclusive that the whole of this portion of the tunnel had recently been flooded. A slight stream of water was still running from a fissure in the wall.
"This must be a proper trap in wet weather," said Phillips. "The water lodges in the dip until it soaks out again. That accounts for the fact that Tassh was unable to return to Polkerwyck House on the night of the storm."
"It certainly seems like it," said Green, as he splashed boldly through the water. "Doesn't it feel cold?"
From this point the tunnel again sloped upwards, in places so steeply that the incline had to be broken by short flights of steps.
"I reckon we've come quite two miles," said Baker, "and in a fairly straight direction according to my compass. If I had known——"
The remark was suddenly cut short by a low warning whistle from Atherton. The rest of the patrol closed upon their Leader, who had come to a standstill before a blank wall. Right and left were short passages terminating in spiral flights of steps.
Once more Atherton and his two chosen comrades began their subsidiary investigations, while the remaining members of the "Otters" remained at the junction of the two cross-ways.
It was not long before the Leader returned.
"No go," he announced. "There are only eleven stairs and then a bricked-up wall. By the undisturbed state of the dust on the steps we know that no one has been there for months at the very least. Come on, all of you, we'll try our luck with this branch."
Round and round, up and up, went the Scouts. They realised that they were on the eve of an important discovery, for here there were undoubted traces of human footsteps. At the fifty-fourth step, Atherton found farther progress barred by a stone wall, each block being roughly fifteen inches wide and twelve high, and set in hard, black cement.
The Scouts looked at each other with feelings akin to dismay. It seemed hard lines, after traversing the whole length of the subterranean passage, to find a blank wall.
"I'll tell you what, Atherton," said Green. "It's my opinion that Tassh, or whoever it is, discovered the tunnel at the Seal Island end, and, like us, explored it as far as it went. He then had to retrace his footsteps, and that accounts for the complicated nature of the trail."
"Yes, that's all very well," replied Atherton. "But how do you account for the finding of the silver stuff in the underground chamber?"
"Perhaps Tassh meant to hide it there, or it was too heavy for him to carry any farther," suggested Mayne, as he rested on the edge of a step his end of the staff from which the bowl was slung. As he did so the end of the pole touched the stonework at the side of the staircase. The slab of granite trembled visibly.
"This part of the wall is quite loose," exclaimed Mayne.
"Steady," whispered Atherton, warningly. "Keep quiet, you fellows."
The Leader felt the face of the granite slab. It was certainly loose, but the joints of the masonry were not wide enough for his fingers to obtain a grip.
"Hold my lantern a minute, Phillips," he said. "I'll see what I can do with my knife. You have matches handy? Good! Now blow out all the lights."
These orders were promptly carried out. The darkness was darkness indeed. To the excited lads it seemed to have weight. Even Phillips, strong-minded as he was, grasped his box of matches tightly, as if he derived some consolation from the fact that he held a weapon that could be used to effectually banish the stifling sensation imparted by the intense darkness.
Scratching lightly with the blade of his knife, Atherton at length found the joint of the stonework once more. Deftly inserting the blade, he cautiously prised the block of granite. It gave, then slid back in its position.
"The stone is pivoted," he whispered. "Where's your hand, Mayne? Put it here, and when I swing the stone out half an inch try and get a grip."
The blade bent almost to breaking point. The stone swung outwards. Mayne, gripping the rough edge, sought to retain a tenacious hold.
"It's slipping," he gasped in low, tense tones. Atherton instantly drove the blade home till the handle was tightly wedged in the enlarged orifice. Then, relaxing his hold upon the knife, he aided Mayne with his wiry fingers.
The block swung stiffly outwards another inch, then with hardly any resistance it turned, disclosing an aperture sufficiently large for a man to crawl through.
The sudden rush of daylight blinded the lads, but at length their eyes grew accustomed to the scene. They found themselves looking into the room in Polkerwyck House that had been the rascally butler's quarters. It was not untenanted.
Seated in a canvas deck-chair, with his back turned to the secret opening, was a man. Only the back portion of his head was visible above the top rail of the chair.
"It's Tassh," said Atherton to himself.
The question was how the Scouts were to act. To crawl through the narrow opening one by one and throw themselves upon the culprit was a business that was not only fraught with danger but well-nigh impossible to perform without giving the man due warning. Yet to Atherton it seemed the only way.
Beckoning to Phillips to follow him, the Leader began to edge carefully through the gap in the stonework. Could he but gain a footing in the room and await his Second's entrance without alarming the occupant of the chair, there was a possibility that the rascal, taken by surprise, might be seized and secured.
The Scout was almost through. One foot was actually on the floor, when Green accidentally knocked the staff to which the silver bowl was slung. With a crash and a clatter the heavy metal ornament went rolling down the spiral stairs, cannoning against the ankles of Scott and Sayers as it did so.
In a trice the fellow in the chair was on his feet.
"The game's up," he exclaimed. "Come out of that or it will be the worse for you."