Читать книгу The Hidden Door - Arthur Gask - Страница 3

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GRIM and grey was Thralldom Castle. Eight hundred years and more its mighty walls had reared their heights to Heaven, scorched by the suns, buffeted by the tempests and fretted by the lashing rains.

Old, old was its story and many were the dark and sinister secrets that it held. Its dungeons had echoed to the groans of the dying and its vaults had witnessed many a hurried burial of the dead. All down the ages the tides of battle had beaten round it, cruel and devouring as the storm driven tides of the sea. Its great stones had been hewn and fashioned in the days of the lance, the battleaxe, and the arrow, and the turmoil and din of battle had been its cradle song and the anthem of its later years.

Generation upon generation of the fierce lords of Thralldom had been born there, and always the lust of strife and conflict had flowed strongly in their veins. Often, in the heyday of Merrie England they had fought for their kings, and often, again, they had fought against them, but always, the shadow of their might had loomed dark and chilling upon the country-side.

And now the last of the Thralldoms lived there, Roger, 27th lord of Thralldom, a frail, worn, and childless old man.

Grim and grey was Thralldom Castle.

THE well-dressed man spoke irritably, and with a frown upon his handsome, but rather dissipated-looking face.

"The telephone wires are all laid underground, there are burglar alarms to every door and window, and there is a bell in the belfry of the east tower that can be heard five miles away. There are four men-servants and at night they are all armed. The great door of the castle is locked and barred at ten and opened for no one after then. There is a strong steel grille cutting off the hall and, at the entrance to the picture gallery there is an even stronger one." He nodded emphatically. "I tell you the whole place is guarded like a prison and"—he flicked the ashes from his cigarette—"there are paintings there worth a hundred thousand pounds."

Four men were seated in a long oak-panelled room of an old house that stood close beside the sea-shore upon a lonely stretch of the Suffolk coast. It was late afternoon, the light was waning and the moan of the sea mingled with their low voices. From the windows, it could be seen that the sky was overcast with heavy clouds. A storm was working up from over the sea.

"And you can suggest then no way at all in which we can get in, Captain?" asked a tall, shrewd-looking man, with a small Vandyke beard, speaking with a slight American twang. He added sharply: "Surely, after all this time and with all the opportunities you have had, you must have formed some ideas."

"No satisfactory ones, Hudson," was the reply. "The place seems absolutely fool-proof to me."

"But with you staying right in the castle," went on the American, obviously in some annoyance, "could you not arrange for some door or window to be left unsecured one night?"

"Impossible," replied Captain Bonnett, "for directly it is dark, two of the men go round and bolt and lock every door and set the alarms, and as often as not, Lord Thralldom goes with them to see that it is properly done. He's a tottering old man, but he's fierce, and rules the castle with a rod of iron. As for the windows, they are barred outside with thick steel bars, and if you lift any of the sashes at night, the alarm rings instantly in the hall." He shook his head frowningly. "Besides, the only way in which you can approach the castle at all is through the big spiked doors on the drawbridge and they are locked at ten and an alarm switched on that would wake the dead."

"But we could avoid the drawbridge altogether," said Hudson, "by getting over across the moat."

"Ten feet deep," commented the captain dryly, "and a barbed wire fence on both banks." He shook his head again. "No, old Thralldom has thought of everything and we have a hard nut to crack."

"But I am certain, Captain Bonnett," said a third man with a high forehead, and the long and oval face of an artist, "that this secret passage under the moat exists. As I have told you, it is referred to most definitely three times in those 'Chronicles of East Anglia,' and the writer, from his perfectly confident tone, evidently knew what he was writing about."

The captain sighed. "But what good is that to us, Fenner," he replied, "if we don't know where the passage is?" He raised his voice a little. "But, mind you, I agree that the passage exists and I am certain Thralldom knows about it, too, for I brought up the matter casually at dinner last night, and he denied all knowledge of it in a way that made me suspicious at once. He seemed most annoyed that I had mentioned it, and pressed me as to where I had got the idea. But I just told him all old castles were supposed to have secret passages and tried to pass it off at that. Still, he was annoyed, as I say, and showed his annoyance plainly."

"Of course he'd know all about it," exclaimed Hudson testily. "It's not likely that a man whose ancestors have been at Thralldom Castle for all these hundreds of years would not know everything about his own place." He snapped his fingers disdainfully. "But he's not going to shout about it to all the world, especially now he's got that Rubens there."

"Well, anyhow we ought to be making more efforts than we are to find it," said Fenner warmly, "for its discovery would solve our greatest difficulty at once." He raised one long slim forefinger solemnly. "Remember, the information I have obtained about it is exclusive, for it must have been more than 300 years since anyone had touched that manuscript until I chanced upon it among the archives in the Cathedral Library at Norwich. As I have told you, it was dated 1586, and the writing was so faded that I could hardly read it." He looked round challengingly at the others. "I risked my whole career in taking it, and I say we ought to concentrate upon finding the opening to that passage."

The captain shook his head. "But it is not practical, Fenner, for if you went searching anywhere in the castle grounds you'd be seen and it would be reported to Lord Thralldom at once."

"But I've been searching at night," replied Fenner quickly, "and these last three nights I have located several likely spots and one particularly—the ruins of the Priory, for it was built about the same time as the castle and, although it is at least 300 yards away, still, the lie of the land would favour a passage there. I can only search, however, when there's a moon, for its dangerous crossing over the marshes in the dark."

Silas Hudson looked contemptuous. "Well, I don't think much of your secret passage and I never did." He turned sharply to the captain. "Have you made any attempt to look for it inside the castle?"

The captain seemed greatly amused. "Made any attempt!" he laughed. "Why,—although I've been his guest there for nearly three weeks now, and although he has known me since I was a boy and my father before me for nearly all his life—he would trust me little more than he would a perfect stranger and the walled-up part of the castle is barred to me, as to everyone else." His voice hardened in emphasis. "I tell you, now he's bought that Rubens, the safety of his paintings has become an obsession with him, a perfect mania, and since his friend, the Earl of Blair, lost those two Hogarths, night and day he is terrified that Thralldom Castle is going to be raided. He is crazed about it, and I hear him asking the servants a dozen times a day if they have noticed any suspicious strangers about." He shrugged his shoulders. "As to exploring any of the underground parts on my own—why, he's had a big iron door fitted at the top of the stairs leading to the dungeons and it's always kept locked."

A fourth man spoke gruffly. "Well, if a door can be locked, it can be unlocked, and I'd like to see the one that would trouble me for long."

The last speaker was quite different in appearance from any of the three men who had already spoken. He was obviously of the superior artisan class and dark and swarthy of complexion, and short and thick in stature, there was nothing attractive about him. His expression was a quarrelsome one, and he was now regarding his companions from scowling eyes under big and bushy eyebrows.

"All right, Kelly," said the captain in a careless, offhanded way, "we don't doubt that, of course, and if we could only put you alongside any door, I am sure that part of the business would be easy." He turned back to the others. "But I admit I'm quite at a dead-end now, and unless chance comes to our aid, I have little hope of our getting at any of those paintings." He added impatiently. "I've been there nearly three weeks already, and I can't stretch out the copying of that Turner for ever. If I hadn't been pretty competent with my brush, he'd have been suspicious of me long before now, but I'm really surprised at the colours I've managed to put in."

"Those burglar alarms could be knocked out of action, quick and lively," said Kelly, "and once in the castle, I'd soon make short work of them." He regarded the captain resentfully. "Surely they must go to sleep there sometime. They can't be keeping awake all night."

"That's true enough, Kelly," replied the captain, "but how to get you all into the castle when they are taking that sleep, and arrange for you to work undisturbed, is the difficulty."

"You may think the castle fool-proof," went on Kelly brusquely, "but if I could get a squint inside, I reckon I could soon find a weak place somewhere."

"Yes, that's it," exclaimed Hudson, quickly, "and that's been our mistake. Kelly's the practical man when it comes to breaking in anywhere, and he ought to have been given a chance to look round."

"Quite so, Hudson," commented the captain dryly, "and it's so simple that I only wonder we did not think of it before." He smiled sarcastically. "We might drop his lordship a line—'Mr. Kelly presents his compliments and would like to look over the castle, with a view to effecting a forcible entry later on. If his lordship has no objection, Mr. Kelly will leave his bag of tools, ready to hand, just outside the premises.'"

"You're funny," snarled Kelly, "but it's not funny business we want, and as for those armed men-servants, I'm not worrying about them. I met one of the footmen in the bar of the Westleton pub last week, and, although he's a big lout of a chap, there wouldn't be much fight in him, besides"—and he looked more unattractive than ever—"two could play at that game, couldn't they?"

"But no violence, Kelly," exclaimed the American quickly. "I would never countenance that. We want a peaceful acquisition of those paintings, and we must come and go in complete secrecy. No one must see or hear us, and we must leave no trails behind."

"That's all very well," growled Kelly, "but how are we going to do it?" He laughed coarsely. "As for violence—you were pretty ready with your knuckle-duster, weren't you, that afternoon in the Jew's shop in Houndsditch? I remember you——"

"That'll do," interrupted Hudson hastily. "Our hands were forced then, and we had to make a quick getaway at any cost." He shook his head and looked very stern. "But Thralldom is not Houndsditch, Kelly, and those methods won't do here."

Kelly scoffed contemptuously and then directed his black looks again upon the captain. "And you told us it was going to be an easy job directly you got into the castle," he said sourly, "and the boss put up the money and rigged you up to go visiting your flash friends, and now after all these weeks,"—he sneered—"you come here and tell us the time's been wasted and there's nothing doing."

The captain reddened angrily. "Well, you don't want to be told a pack of lies do you? I'm doing my part and shirking nothing." He thumped his fist upon the table. "I'm up to the neck in this as deep as any of you, and if the thing's going to be done at all, I'll see it's going to be done properly, and we'll attempt nothing unless there's a reasonable chance of success." He dropped his voice suddenly to a cold contemptuous tone. "You can't barge into Thralldom Castle, Mr. Kelly, like a bull crashing through a gate. It needs thought and preparation and a certain amount of intelligence as well." He spoke most politely. "So we'll decide what is best to be done, Mr. Kelly, and then when the purely mechanical part is required"—he bowed—"your services will be most handy, I am sure."

Kelly looked as black as thunder and was obviously about to make some furious retort when the American broke in quickly.

"All right, all right," he said, "we'll take it you are doing your best, but all the same, it's annoying with expenses mounting up every day and nothing to show for them." He turned the subject abruptly. "Why didn't Lord Thralldom answer Fenner's letter?"

"He never will let people in to view his paintings," replied Captain Bonnett, "and it's his craze now to keep everyone away from the castle."

"But Fenner wrote he was the curator of the Norwich Art Gallery," went on Hudson, "and that should have been a passport anywhere." He pursed up his lips as if he were very puzzled. "Fenner wrote a most courteous letter."

"Too courteous," laughed the captain, "and so he just threw it in the waste-paper basket in consequence." He nodded his head. "Now, if Fenner had written and called him a selfish old fool for keeping his paintings to himself, he'd have probably taken some notice of the letter and sent an angry reply. He's a fiery old fellow, his lordship."

The American whistled. "Oh! he's like that, is he? Well, I'll write and call him one," he exclaimed. "I'll string him on into starting a correspondence and then perhaps I may get a look into the castle that way." His voice rose excitedly. "Yes, I know what I'll do. I'll write and tell him that his precious Rubens is not genuine. I'll write and say it's only an early Van Dyck." He rubbed his hands together. "That'll rattle him. He's sure to have heard of me as a dealer of some standing, and if I give that as my considered opinion, he's bound to take notice." He beamed round at the others. "I know these crazy collectors, and if you can only manage them properly, you can draw them every time. What do you say. Captain?"

The captain looked thoughtful. "Not at all a bad idea," he said after a moment. "You write like that and when he gets your letter I'll boost you up and say you're the biggest noise in the picture world over in New York. I'll tell him——" He stopped suddenly and eyed the American intently. "But if he's heard of you, he may have heard some queer things, Hudson. You've been in the newspapers a few times, remember, and although no one's been successful in their actions against you, still there've been some nasty remarks published about you."

"And I could have sued those who made them, if I'd wanted to," replied Hudson quickly, "but it wasn't worth my while."

"No-o," agreed the captain slowly, "it wasn't worth your while, was it."

"But where do I come in?" asked Kelly, frowningly, of the American. "Your getting into the castle will be no more good to us than the captain, here."

"Oh! won't it?" exclaimed Hudson gleefully. "You just see. If old Thralldom says I can inspect his Rubens, then I'll take you in with me as my servant as a matter of course. I'll make out I'm crippled with rheumatism and can't walk without your help." He turned to the captain. "What do you say to that, Bonnett?"

Captain Bonnett nodded. "If you can screw Thralldom up to the point of agreeing to let you into his gallery, I don't suppose he'd mind Kelly coming too." He laughed spitefully. "But Kelly'll have to cultivate a slightly more agreeable look, or the whole business may fall through directly he sees him."

Kelly made no comment and contented himself with regarding the speaker contemptuously.

The captain went on. "And another thing strikes me. If ever we are successful at getting at those paintings, we shall have to be devilish careful afterwards." He spoke impressively. "None of you here can bolt away at once."

"We never intended doing so," replied Hudson smiling. "We shall just hide the canvases and remain on here as simple holiday-makers until things have blown over."

He laughed. "We've thought of somewhere to hide them, where no one would look in a thousand years."

"Well, that's all right," said the captain, "because apart from Fenner being a known authority in the Art world and you a dealer in pictures,"—he grinned—"friend Kelly's got a sort of reputation as being an artist in his profession, too, and the police would be interested in him at once."

"There's never been any conviction recorded against me," exclaimed Kelly quickly; "the police have nothing on me."

"That may be," commented the captain dryly, "but don't you forget, Kelly, you've been up for trial, and the old judge said then you were devilishly lucky to have been given the benefit of the doubt, also——"

"Well, well," interrupted the American, anxious to prevent any quarrelling, "there's no need to go into that. We've got plenty of other things to think about, and we must find a way of getting that Rubens. After all this trouble we're not going to be beaten by a dodderry old man."

"Oh! but he's not dodderry," said Captain Bonnett quickly, "and don't you go imagining it for a moment. The old boy's seventy-live, and weak and shaky in his legs, but in his mind he's as keen and alert as he ever was and, except in the matter of his paintings, he's a shrewd and capable old man."

"Well, I'll write that letter to him anyhow," commented Hudson, "and pitch it in hot and strong and we'll see what'll happen then." He stretched out his hand. "Now, pass over that plan you've made and it'll be hard luck if it doesn't come in useful some time."