CHAPTER XVI
TRAPPED
Atherton stood stock still, his eyes fixed upon the small suggestive muzzle of a revolver levelled at his head. It was horribly disconcerting. He was unable to go forward; his movements were hampered. Nor could he retreat with the possibilities of being shot at staring him in the face.
The tension was acute whilst it lasted, but the Scout was greatly relieved to hear the voice of Polglaze, the detective, exclaim:
"In the name of thunder what have you Scouts been up to?"
Atherton hastened to complete the awkward crawl through the opening, the rest of his companions following.
The detective, with wonderment written on every line of his face, examined the revolving stonework, patting it with his hands and testing the cunningly concealed mechanism.
"Well, this beats everything," he exclaimed. "I've been investigating this room for hours, tried the floor, walls and ceiling, and not a suspicion of a secret passage did I discover, Yet, from a logical point of view, there must have been some means of escape other than by the door, which was locked. How on earth did you fellows find this out?"
"We walked along a tunnel from Seal Island," explained Atherton. "It leads to the ruins in the centre of the Island. And we've found some of the booty, Mr Polglaze."
"You have?" The detective's jaw dropped slightly. Visions of a substantial reward slipping through his fingers accounted for his tone of disappointment. "Where?"
"In a side passage out of the main tunnel. There's a large silver bowl at the bottom of these steps, and each of us have smaller articles."
One by one the Scouts placed on the table the spoons and forks they had discovered. Polglaze snatched one up and examined.
"Yes, that's part of Sir Silas' stuff," he announced. "Is that all you've found?"
"Yes, sir," answered Atherton. "With the bowl, of course."
"Then there's a heap more to be recovered," said the detective. "Tell me about the tunnel."
Polglaze listened attentively and in silence to the Scout's narrative.
"You are quite sure you examined every part of the tunnel?" he asked, when Atherton had finished. "There is no place where Tassh might hide that you neglected to make sure of?"
"I think not, sir."
"Good. I'll inform Sir Silas."
The detective was certainly jealous of the Scouts' success, but the news could not be withheld from the baronet. It also opened a fresh channel for the detective's energies. Since the robber's retreat was discovered, the ends could be bricked up and no further attention paid to it. Polglaze would be free to devote his skill to the tracking of the butler on Seal Island.
Great was the astonishment of Sir Silas to find that the dust-grimed members of the "Otter" patrol had entered his house by a means hitherto unknown to him.
"A remarkable thing, Polglaze," he observed. "Now I come to think of it there is a legend to the effect that Polkerwyck monastery was connected with the oratory on Seal Island by a subterranean passage. I regarded it as a myth. You get the same story wherever there are any old ruins. But what an elaborate piece of work, by Jove!"
Sir Silas had closed the revolving stone. When in position it seemed exactly like a portion of the solid wall, and opening in the old-fashioned chimney corner it was rendered still more unnoticeable by the soot that clung tenaciously to the grate. "You've closed it, sir," exclaimed Atherton, unable to prevent the baronet's action. "We don't know how to open it from this side."
"Bless my soul, I am thoughtless!" ejaculated Sir Silas. "See what you can make of it, Polglaze."
The detective prised the stonework with his penknife, thrust his shoulder against the unresisting granite, and fumbled for possible springs, all to no purpose. The sliding door was to all appearances part and parcel of the wall.
"Now, Atherton, you have a shot at it," suggested Sir Silas.
The Scout did his best, but without result. He was completely baffled.
"And there's a large silver bowl down there, sir," he remarked, "and all our lanterns too. I'll tell you what, sir: we must get back to the Island as quickly as possible, or our Scoutmaster will be anxious. We'll let him know we're all right, and then some of us will go through the tunnel again and open the slide from the inside. I think I know how to do that."
[Illustration: "'In the name of thunder, what have you Scouts been up to?'"—Page 189.]
"Very good," assented Sir Silas. "Only I hope you won't overtire yourselves. Polglaze, I wish you to remain here till Atherton returns. As a temporary measure I mean to have the tunnel sealed up at both ends before to-night. Later on, when we have laid my rascally butler by the heels, the place can be thoroughly explored by competent antiquarians. I have no doubt but that it will prove of considerable interest to persons making a study of mediaeval architecture."
Atherton gave the half-salute and retired with his fellow Scouts. Once clear of the House, they broke into a Scout's pace, and soon covered the distance between them and Polkerwyck village.
Outside the post-office they were stopped by Farmer Trebarwith, who was bubbling over with excitement.
"Heard the news, young gentlemen? They du say that Tassh has been seen in Bodmin, and that he has taken the train to Lunnon with a girt box—full o' stolen silver I du say. We'm expecting news that he's been apprehended as soon as he gets to his journey's end."
Atherton thanked the farmer for his information, and, excusing himself, hastened his patrol into one of Peter Varco's boats, that the old fisherman obligingly lent them.
"I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you," said Mr Buckley. "In fact, I was on the point of taking two of the 'Wolves' with me and following up your trail. They say that Tassh has been traced to London, eh? Well, I hope it's true, for we shall be able to carry out our camp routine, which from all accounts has been subjected to interruptions of various sorts from the first day you arrived. All right, Atherton, you can go through the tunnel again. Three of you will be enough, I think. Get back as soon as you can."
The second trip through the subterranean passage was performed with alacrity, and without incident Atherton and his companions succeeded in reaching the far end.
"Give a push with the end of your staff, Green," he said, pointing to a well-defined mark on the stonework where the mechanism had previously been actuated.
Green pushed his pole, at first gently, then harder. It was all to no purpose. The sliding stone seemed as immovable as it had done on the other side.
"That's strange," commented the Leader. "Bring the other lantern here and let's see if we can find anything."
For a quarter of an hour or more Atherton prodded the stone and groped for a concealed spring.
"We're done again, I'm afraid," he remarked. "We must retrace our steps. Blow one of the candles out, Mayne. We've none too much left. I didn't reckon on this."
"It won't do to be stranded in this hole without a light," agreed Mayne. "What about the lanterns we left behind us?"
Atherton picked up the two candle-lamps. In one there was less than a quarter of an inch. In the other there was hardly as much, and what made matters worse, the Scouts who took spare candles had not handed them over to their comrades when the latter set out on their second journey through the tunnel.
"Back as fast as we can," ordered Atherton. "Don't wait to bring that bowl with us. It will be quite safe here."
Lighted by the glimmer of the solitary candle, the Scouts hastened on their homeward way.
Presently Green called out:
"I say, Atherton. What's that noise?"
A dull swishing sound came faintly to the ears of the listeners.
"It's like a tap running," remarked Mayne. "Water running into a bath, for example."
"Foot it as fast as you can," exclaimed Atherton. "It may be all right, but I fancy the water is pouring into the hollow we noticed just this side of the place we found the silver bowl."
The three lads broke into a run, guided by the flickering light of the lantern. Louder and louder grew the sound of the inrush of water.
"Steady," gasped Atherton, as his feet came in contact with the water. "Wade through it."
He was hoping against hope. His practical eye had already noted that the water extended far beyond the limits of the little puddle they had encountered in the lowest level of the dip. This meant that there might be five feet or more of water in the tunnel, or there might be sufficient space between the surface and the top of the vaulting to enable the lads to proceed.
"What's happened, I wonder?" asked Green, who, like the other, was knee-deep in water.
"Don't worry: keep on," enjoined the Leader. "There's no current, luckily, but let's hang on to one another in case there's a pitfall. Keep the spare pieces of candle dry, Mayne, whatever you do. I've put the matches in my hat."
Waist deep now. The rate of progress was visibly retarded by the resistance of the water. Peering ahead, Atherton could see that at less than twenty yards from where he stood the roof of the tunnel met and dipped below the surface of the newly formed lake.
The Scouts were trapped.
"No go, lads," announced Atherton, in a cheerful tone. "We must get back to the higher level. It must be raining pretty heavily, and the water soaks through."
"A jolly good soak, I should say," added Green. "What do you propose doing now, Atherton?"
"Exercise patience, and have another shot at that revolving stone. It's merely a question of time and an element of luck. Besides, when the water begins to subside it will do so pretty rapidly, I expect."
"Why?" asked Green.
"I don't know why, unless the floor of the tunnel is very porous. Don't you remember that within twenty hours of the time that Tassh was unable to leave Seal Island he was back again by means of this passage?"
"That's so," agreed Green, stooping to wring the moisture out of his shorts. "How's the candle going, Atherton?"
"It will last us a bit," replied the Leader; but he knew that in less than an hour at the outside their whole supply of candle ends would be consumed.
"Let's shout altogether," suggested Mayne, after they had returned to the top of the spiral staircase and had made another unsuccessful attempt to discover the secret of the mechanism of the revolving stone.
The Scouts gave a united yell. The echoes rang in their ears, but no answering sound came from the other side of the baffling granite wall.
"Look here, you fellows," said Atherton, "it's no use our waiting here on the off chance of some one opening the door or whatever you call it, from the inside. One of us ought to stand by and watch for the water to subside. Who's game?"
"It will mean that one of us will have to be in the dark," observed Mayne gloomily. "I'm not frightened of the dark, of course, but it's pretty miserable sticking about by yourself in a pitch-black hole."
"That's so," agreed Green. "I vote we all keep together."
"That won't do for me, lads," said Atherton. "I'll go. You keep what's left of the candle. When I find the level is sinking I'll shout and let you know. This tunnel is like a giant voice-tube: you'll hear me plainly enough."
"Oh, I'll go if you want," said Mayne, somewhat shamefacedly.
"Or I will," added Green.
"You'll jolly well stop here. Take half of these matches. Keep on trying, and perhaps you'll find the secret of the opening after all."
So saying, Atherton felt his way down the steps, and began his solitary progress along the tunnel. On and on he went, feeling the rough wall with his hand and methodically counting the number of paces he took.
At the five hundred and twentieth step his foot splashed into the water. The Scout halted, struck a match and examined the rock close to the surface of the pool. It was fairly dry.
"That means the water is still rising," thought the Leader. "I'll draw a line in the dust, and look again in five minutes' time, just to make sure."
Taking a piece of twine from his pocket, Atherton measured off as near as he could guess a length slightly exceeding a yard. To one end he attached his knife. Holding the other end in his hand, the Scout allowed the weighted string to swing.
"A pendulum thirty-nine inches in length swings one every second," he said to himself. "This ought to be near enough for my purpose."
He waited till the knife had swung three hundred times—it seemed more like an hour than five minutes,—then, striking another match, he examined the mark he had made on the ground. It was already on the point of being covered. The water was still rising.
"Cheerful," he remarked. "After all, there is no danger, it's only the discomfort, and all true Scouts make light of trivial matters like this. It's another all-night business: that's my opinion."
"Atherton!" shouted Green, his voice rumbling down the tube-like passage.
"Hulloa?"
"Our light's gone out. Is the water falling?"
Atherton struck a match.
"I'm sorry to say it isn't," he shouted in reply.
"Then it's no use waiting there. Come back to us. It's mighty cold and we're precious hungry."
"I can't feed you, Green, and if you're cold jump about a bit and flap your arms. I'll be with you soon."
After giving this advice, Atherton began to walk along the now familiar tunnel. Ere he had covered a hundred paces he was surprised by the sound of a sharp detonation, followed by shouts of alarm on the part of his two comrades.
"What's up?" hailed Atherton.
The shouting still continued, but the anxious Scout could make neither head nor tail of what was being said. Presently a strong current of air, followed by the pungent fumes of powder, drifted down the tunnel.
Gasping, Atherton tied his scarf over his mouth, and dashed as hard as he could through the inky darkness, keeping his left hand on the wall to guide him. Stumbling over the silver bowl at the foot of the stairs was the first intimation he received of the fact that he had reached the end of the passage.
Then, as he mounted the spiral stairs, to his utter relief he heard Mr Buckley's voice calling him by name.
Removing his scarf, Atherton gave a reassuring answer.
"Thank heaven, you're safe!" replied the Scoutmaster, as Atherton emerged through an irregularly shaped hole that took the place of the narrow opening into the butler's room.
"And Mayne and Green?"
"They're all right, only a bit shaken up."
In the room, in addition to Mr Buckley, were Sir Silas Gwinnear, Polglaze the detective, and a gentleman whom Atherton had not seen before, and who was a mining engineer for one of the neighbouring "wheals" or mines, and three workmen.
"We knew something was amiss," explained the Scoutmaster. "Soon after you descended the tunnel for the second time it came on to pour with rain. Phillips suggested to me the danger of one portion of the passage being filled with water, and he and I going down found this to be the case, and that your retreat was cut off, unless you succeeded in turning the revolving stone.
"Thinking that there was a chance of your not being able to do so, Phillips and I made our way across the mainland, and on to Polkerwyck House.
"We found the secret opening still remained fast closed. We hammered at it, tried crowbars, and did everything to attract your attention. Green tells me you never heard a sound."
"We made as much row as we could, sir," said Atherton. "The walls must be practically soundproof."
"I should say they are not soundproof now," continued Mr Buckley. "On Sir Silas's advice we sent to Polkarnis Mine for some men accustomed to the use of explosives, and this gentleman—Mr Copperas, the electrical works' manager—kindly came over to give his technical assistance."
"Yes, it's a wonder we didn't do more harm," added Mr Copperas. "Since we heard no sounds from within we naturally concluded that the three of you were farther along the tunnel. However, all's well that ends well, and your two chums have been through an experience I never wish to meet with: standing within a few feet of five pounds of gun-cotton when it exploded."
"Now, Atherton, we must be making a move," declared the Scoutmaster. "It will soon be dark, and you've had a couple of very trying days."
"How about the silver bowl, sir?" said the Scout, who had already noticed the signs of preparations of bricking up the gap. "I'll get it if you like."
"Don't worry about that, Atherton," interposed Sir Silas. "Get a good night's rest. You can have a bed here if you wish."
"No, thank you, sir," replied Atherton. "I think I shall sleep pretty soundly in camp."
"As you like," said the baronet. "I'll see that the bowl is brought out. Mr Copperas and I have a wish to have a look at this remarkable tunnel before it is actually sealed."
"Any further news of Tassh, sir?" asked Atherton, as, accompanied by the five "Otters," the Scoutmaster started at a brisk walk towards Polkerwyck.
"Nothing, save that the police hope to effect his arrest in London. As far as we are concerned I think the Scouts have finished with the business. It will give us a chance to settle down to a less strenuous holiday."