A very pretty plan, and a bold—but, alas! we know what “gang aft agley.” A very significant accident was to frustrate it—a characteristic piece of recklessness to hoist him and his with their own petard. For as to the latter, it would not satisfy the rogues but that they must bring all their store of powder in a barrel along with them, as they looked to quarter themselves snugly in fine linen for the night, and their ammunition as a precaution must not be left behind; and, as to the former, lo! when Brander cautiously shifted the stone and looked out, there was light shining into the pit and the trap flung open.
Here was a heavy to-do—nothing to blow up and the guard above probably on the alert!
The rascal motioned his crew to intense silence, and dared to creep a step forward into the vault. The two that were carrying the powder slung between them, softly lowered the barrel a little back from the entrance, and all stood waiting.
Brander cocked his flapless ears. Dead quiet reigned above and about him. He dreaded he knew not what ambush, and the suspense was intolerable. Desperately he took his courage in hand and climbed out of the pit. In the dim and gusty light he thought the place deserted; for Luvaine leaned asleep in a dark angle of the wall and was not readily distinguishable to a rapid survey.
He was on the point of summoning his men to the surface, when something in white, that flitted by the doorway and paused and looked in, caught his eye. He gasped, hesitated, and followed in pursuit. Was it a snare. There was a pregnant silence about the place that peopled every corner with watchful eyes. He felt the sweat under his clothes and a fright of superstition in his heart.
As he came softly out of the chamber the phantom-shape was speeding before him. Suddenly it turned, nodded to him, put a finger to its lips, and again sped on. His hand closed rigidly on his pistol-butt; his teeth clipped an oath of fury. He had recognized her—the mad girl that had evaded his clutches. She had escaped from the stable, it seemed, and was mounting to her eyrie. She went lightly up the stairs, and for an instant a great longing seized him to follow and kill her. Then, all in a moment the danger of his position rushed upon him. In the act of turning to retreat, however, he became conscious of the sound of voices issuing from a room down the passage at the further end of which he was standing—voices, and amongst them that of his leader. Immediately he was impelled to creep thither, inform himself of the state of affairs, and make his plans accordingly. A pistol-shot from an unexpected quarter through the brain of the master of the house, and the situation might resolve itself without any larger appeal to violence. He stole forward, and went to his fate.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Luvaine came to himself with a shock. Something had rung out, and there was a distant flurry of shouting in his ears. He started forward, amazed at his own abuse of the trust committed to him. With eyes yet clouded with the fumes of sleep, he looked down into the vault. One of the irresolute company a little bolder than his fellows to solve the reason of the inaction that had befallen, and of the noise that suddenly swooped down upon them, was crept out into the pit; but seeing the face staring down he re-dived for his burrow like a rat. It was his jump that sprung the mine. The soldier, his aim like a drunken man’s, snapped up his muzzle and fired at the retreating figure. There followed a monstrous burst of flame—a booming crash—and he was blown against the wall like a leaf, and his spine broken. Shrieking in his agony he fell, tearing with his nails at the boards of the floor; then a merciful oblivion came to him, and the convulsion of his limbs relaxed in whatever position they had assumed, and he lay sprawled and breathing out his life.
His ball had pierced the powder-barrel, and the fate of the wretches crowded in the tunnel was a thing to recognize and forget—if one could.