A Prince of Good Fellows by Robert Barr (best thriller novels to read txt) 📖

from seventy to a hundred feet in height; and connected with it were several stone buildings, some two stories and some three stories high. Round the castle, in a wide, irregular circle, had been built a stout stone wall, perhaps twenty feet high, wide enough on the top for half a dozen men to walk abreast. The space enclosed was tolerably flat, and large enough for a small army to exercise in. Leaning against the inside of this wall was an array of sheds, which provided stabling for the horses, and numerous stalls in which many cattle were lowing. The contour of the wall was broken by a gateway, through which the troop and their captives had entered. The inlet could be closed by a massive gate, which now stood open, and by a stout portcullis that hung ready to drop when a lever was pulled. But the most gruesome feature of this robber's lair was a stout beam of timber, which projected horizontally from the highest open window of the square tower. Attached to the further end of the beam was a thick rope, the looped end of which encircled the drawn neck of a man, whose lifeless body swayed like a leaden pendulum, helpless in the strong breeze. Seeing the eyes of the three directed to this pitiful object, Armstrong said to one of his men,--

"Just slip that fellow's head from the noose, Peter; we may need the rope again to-night." Then turning to his prisoners, Armstrong spoke like a courteous host anxious to exhibit to a welcome guest the striking features of his domain.

"That's but a grisly sight, gentlemen, to contemplate on a lowering evening."

The day was darkening to its close, and a storm, coming up out of the west, was bringing the night quicker than the hour sanctioned.

"But here is an ingenious contrivance," continued the freebooter, cheerfully, "which has commanded the admiration of many a man we were compelled to hang. You see there are so many meddlesome bodies in this world that a person like myself, who wishes to live in peace with all his fellows, must sometimes give the interferers a sharp bit lesson."

"I can well believe it," answered the king.

"An Englishman of great ingenuity had a plan for capturing us, but, as it stands, we captured him; and being a merciful man, always loth to hang, when anything else can be done, I set him at work here, and this is one of his constructions. As it's growing dark, come nearer that you may see how it works."

At the bottom of the tower, and close to it, there lay a wooden platform which afforded standing room for six or seven men. Peter got up on this platform and pulled a cord, which opened a concealed sluice-gate and resulted in a roar of pouring water. Gradually the platform lifted, and the king saw that it was placed on top of a tall pine-tree that had been cut in the form of a screw, the gigantic threads of which were well oiled. A whirling horizontal water-wheel, through the centre of which the big screw came slowly upwards, with Peter on the gradually elevating platform, formed the motive power of the contrivance.

"You understand the mechanism?" said Armstrong. "By pulling one cord, the water comes in on this side of the wheel and the platform ascends. Another cord closes the sluice and everything is stationary. A third cord opens the gate which lets the water drive the wheel in the opposite direction and then the platform descends. You see, I have taken away the old lower stairway that was originally built for the tower, and this is the only means of getting up and down from the top story. It does not, if you will notice, go entirely to the top, but stops at that door, fifty feet from the rock, into which Peter is now entering."

"It is a most ingenious invention," admitted the king. "I never saw anything like it before."

"It would be very useful in a place like Stirling," said Johnny, looking hard at his prisoner.

"I suppose it would," replied the king, in a tone indicating that it was no affair of his, "but you see I'm not a Stirling man myself. I belong rather to all Scotland; a man of the world, as you might say."

By this time Peter had climbed to the highest room of the tower, worked his way on hands and knees out to the end of the beam, and had drawn up to him the swaying body. With the deftness of expert practice, he loosened the noose and the body dropped like a plummet through the air, disappearing into the chasm below. Peter, taking the noose with him, crawled backward, like a crab, out of sight, and into the tower again. Armstrong, from below, had opened the other sluice, and the empty platform descended as leisurely and as tremblingly as it had risen. Armstrong himself cut the cords that bound the ankles of his captives.

"Now, gentlemen," he said, "if you will step on the platform I shall have the pleasure of showing you to your rooms."

Three armed men and the three prisoners moved upwards together.

"A fine sylvan view you have," said the king.

"Is it not!" exclaimed Armstrong, seemingly delighted that it pleased his visitor.

After the mechanical device had landed them some fifty feet above the rocks, they ascended several flights of stairs, a man with a torch leading the way. The prisoners were conducted to a small room, which had the roof of the tower for its ceiling. In a corner of the cell cowered a very abject specimen of the human race, who, when the others came, seemed anxious to attract as little attention as possible.

Armstrong, again, with his own hands removed the remaining cords from the prisoners, and the three stretched up their arms, glad to find them at liberty once more.

"Place the torch in its holder," said Johnny. "Now, gentlemen, that will last long enough to light you to your supper, which you will find on the floor behind you. I'm sure you will rest here comfortably for the night. The air is pure at this height, and I think you'll like this eagle's nest better than a dungeon under the ground. For my own part, I abhor a subterranean cell, and goodness knows I've been in many a one, but we're civilised folk here on the Border and try to treat our prisoners kindly."

"You must, indeed, earn their fervent gratitude," said the king.

"We should, we should," returned Johnny, "but I'm not certain that we do. Man is a thrawn beast as a rule. And now, you'll just think over your situation through the night, and be ready to answer me in the morning all the questions I'll ask of you. I'll be wanting to know who sent you here, and what news you have returned to him since you have been on the Border."

"We will give your request our deep consideration," replied the king.

"I'm glad to hear that. You see, we are such merciful people that we have but one rope to hang our enemies with, while we should have a dozen by rights. Still, I think we could manage three at a pinch, if your answers should happen to displease me. You will excuse the barring of the door, but the window is open to you if your lodgings are not to your liking. And so, good-night, the three of you."

"Good-night to you, Mr. Armstrong," said the king.

Peter had drawn in the rope, and its sinister loop lay on the floor, its further length resting on the window sill, and extending out to the end of the beam. The cobbler examined it with interest. "Come," cried the king, "there is little use letting a supper wait for the eating merely because we seem to have gone wrong in our inquiries about the cattle."

Neither the poet nor the cobbler had any appetite for supper, but the king was young and hungry, and did justice to the hospitality of the Armstrongs.

"Have you been here long?" he asked of the prisoner in the corner.

"A good while," answered the latter despondently. "I don't know for how long. They hanged my mate."

"I saw that. Do they hang many here about?"

"I think they do," replied the prisoner. "Some fling themselves down on the rocks, and others are starved to death. You see, the Armstrongs go off on a raid, and there's no one here to bring us food, for the women folk don't like to tamper with that machine that comes to the lower stair. I doubt if Johnny starves them intentionally, but he's kept away sometimes longer than he expects."

"Bless me," cried the king, "think of this happening in Scotland. And now, cobbler, what are we to do?"

"I'm wondering if this man would venture out to the end of the beam and untie the rope," suggested Flemming.

"Oh, I'll do that, willingly," cried the prisoner. "But what is the use of it; it's about ten times too short, as the Armstrongs well know."

"Are we likely to be disturbed here through the night?" asked Flemming.

"Oh no, nor till late in the day to-morrow; they'll be down there eating and drinking till all hours, then they sleep long."

"Very well. Untie the other end of the rope, and see you crawl back here without falling."

As the prisoner obeyed instructions, Flemming rose to his feet and began feeling in his pockets, drawing forth, at last, a large brown ball.

"What is your plan, cobbler?" asked the king, with interest.

"Well, you see," replied Flemming, "the rope's short, but it's very thick."

"I don't see how that is to help us."

"There are nine or ten strands that have gone to the making of it, and I'm thinking that each of those strands will bear a man. Luckily, I have got a ball of my cobbler's wax here, and that will strengthen the strands, keep the knots from slipping, and make it easier to climb down."

"Cobbler!" cried the king, "if that lets us escape, I'll knight you."

"I care little for knighthood," returned the cobbler, "but I don't want to be benighted here."

"After such a remark as that, your majesty," exclaimed the poet, "I think you should have him beheaded, if he doesn't get us out of this safely."

"Indeed, Sir David," said the cobbler, as he unwound the rope, "if I don't get you out of here, the Armstrongs will save his majesty all trouble on the score of decapitation."

There was silence now as the three watched the deft hands of the cobbler, hurrying to make the most of the last rays of the flickering torch in the wall. He tested the strands and proved them strong, then ran each along the ball of wax, thus cementing their loose thread together. He knotted the ends with extreme care, tried their resistance thoroughly, and waxed them unsparingly. It was a business of breathless interest, but at last the snake-like length of thin rope lay on the floor at his disposal. He tied an end securely to the beam just outside the window-sill so that there would be no sharp edge to cut the cord, then he paid out the line into the darkness, slowly and carefully that it might not became entangled.

"There," he said at last, with a sigh of satisfaction, "who's first for the rope. We three await your majesty's commands."

"Do you know the country