Meanwhile, what had happened to Warrender?
On entering the cottage by way of the tunnel and the cellar, he went upstairs to make a careful survey of the surroundings, saw no sign of the enemy, and hurried across the island to the pram, in which he crossed the river unobserved. In less than ten minutes he was back at the cottage with the hammer and chisel taken from his motor-boat. As he was on the point of re-opening the trap, he found that the electric torch showed a much feebler light than before, and if it gave out before Mr. Pratt was brought away, the flight through the tunnel might be dangerously delayed. It seemed worth while to pay another rapid visit to the camp for the purpose of getting a small hand lamp or a couple of candles. Laying the hammer and chisel under the staircase, he went up again, once more crossed the island, found one candle in the motorboat, and returned without delay.
It happened, however, that as he left the cottage on this second journey, Rush and his big flat-faced companion were approaching it from the south. Unseen themselves, they caught sight of Warrender as he emerged from the entrance, watched him until he had disappeared into the thicket, waited a few minutes, then entered the cottage and descended to the cellar. They had no light, and Warrender had taken the precaution of carefully replacing the flagstone; but in his haste he had omitted to close the upright slab beneath the lowest step, leaving open the access to the handgrips. Rush was suspicious. The gap might have been left open, of course, by one of the confederates; on the other hand, it was possible that the secret passage had been discovered by the boy he had seen leaving the cottage. The boy might return, and Rush allowed his curiosity to delay the visit to the tower on which he had been summoned. It was an error of judgment that had important consequences.
He posted himself with his companion in a remote corner of the cellar, and waited.
Some ten minutes later, Warrender came down the steps. He flashed his torch to light the opening, retrieved the hammer and chisel, and laid them down on the flagstone while he inserted his arm in the gap to turn the hand-grips. All the time his back was towards the men lurking within twenty feet of him. As he sprawled over the stone, there was a sudden noise behind him. Hastily withdrawing his hand, he half rose, but too late. Seized by powerful hands and taken at a disadvantage, he was helpless. His torch fell into the gap, and in the darkness he was dragged up the stairs between his captors.
"Cotched 'en!" chuckled Rush, as they lugged him through the hall. "What'll we do with 'en, Sibelius?"
"Kill!" said the Finn. "Throw in river!"
"No, no, that won't do!" said Rush. "He bain't alone. There's the other young devils. It bain't safe. I think of my neck. No; we'll take 'en down to the hut and tie 'en up; he'll be out of harm's way there, and in a few hours it won't matter."
Like most Englishmen in speaking to a foreigner, he shouted, and the Finn warned him to speak more quietly: the prisoner would hear all he said.
"What do it matter?" laughed Rush. "Let 'en hear--by the time his friends find 'en we'll be far away. Curious 'tis, that we've cotched 'en the very last day. If it'd a been yesterday, we might have had to kill 'en. We'll stuff up his mouth, though; t'others may be about."