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Books: Huntingtower

J >> John Buchan >> Huntingtower

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Again they came on, and again he fired. This time he damaged somebody,
for the trunk was dropped.

A voice gave orders, a sharp authoritative voice. The battering squad
dissolved, and there was a general withdrawal out of the line of fire
from the window. Was it possible that he had intimidated them?
He could hear the sound of voices, and then a single figure came
into sight again, holding something in its hand.

He did not fire for he recognized the futility of his efforts.
The baseball swing of the figure below could not be mistaken.
There was a roar beneath, and a flash of fire, as the bomb exploded
on the door. Then came a rush of men, and the Tower had fallen.
Heritage clambered through a hole in the roof and gained the
topmost parapet. He had still a pocketful of cartridges, and
there in a coign of the old battlements he would prove an ugly
customer to the pursuit. Only one at a time could reach that
siege perilous....They would not take long to search the lower rooms,
and then would be hot on the trail of the man who had fooled them.
He had not a scrap of fear left or even of anger--only triumph
at the thought of how properly those ruffians had been sold.
"Like schoolboys they who unaware"--instead of two women they had
found a man with a gun. And the Princess was miles off and forever
beyond their reach. When they had settled with him they would
no doubt burn the House down, but that would serve them little.
From his airy pinnacle he could see the whole sea-front of
Huntingtower, a blur in the dusk but for the ghostly eyes of its
white-shuttered windows.

Something was coming from it, running lightly over the lawns,
lost for an instant in the trees, and then appearing clear on
the crest of the ridge where some hours earlier Dougal had lain.
With horror he saw that it was a girl. She stood with the wind
plucking at her skirts and hair, and she cried in a high, clear voice
which pierced even the confusion of the gale. What she cried he
could not tell, for it was in a strange tongue....

But it reached the besiegers. There was a sudden silence in the
din below him and then a confusion of shouting. The men seemed
to be pouring out of the gap which had been the doorway, and as
he peered over the parapet first one and then another entered his
area of vision. The girl on the ridge, as soon as she saw that she
had attracted attention, turned and ran back, and after her up the
slopes went the pursuit bunched like hounds on a good scent.

Mr. John Heritage, swearing terribly, started to retrace his steps.



CHAPTER XIV


THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE CRUIVES


The military historian must often make shift to write of battles with
slender data, but he can pad out his deficiencies by learned parallels.
If his were the talented pen describing this, the latest action
fought on British soil against a foreign foe, he would no doubt
be crippled by the absence of written orders and war diaries.
But how eloquently he would descant on the resemblance between
Dougal and Gouraud--how the plan of leaving the enemy to waste his
strength upon a deserted position was that which on the 15th of July
1918 the French general had used with decisive effect in Champagne!
But Dougal had never heard of Gouraud, and I cannot claim that,
like the Happy Warrior, he

"through the heat of conflict kept the law
In calmness made, and saw what he foresaw."


I have had the benefit of discussing the affair with him and his
colleagues, but I should offend against historic truth if I
represented the main action as anything but a scrimmage--a "soldiers'
battle," the historian would say, a Malplaquet, an Albuera.

Just after half-past three that afternoon the Commander-in-Chief
was revealed in a very bad temper. He had intercepted Sir Archie's
car, and, since Leon was known to be fully occupied, had brought
it in by the West Lodge, and hidden it behind a clump of laurels.
There he had held a hoarse council of war. He had cast an appraising
eye over Sime the butler, Carfrae the chauffeur, and McGuffog the
gamekeeper, and his brows had lightened when he beheld Sir Archie
with an armful of guns and two big cartridge-magazines. But they had
darkened again at the first words of the leader of the reinforcements.

"Now for the Tower,' Sir Archie had observed cheerfully. "We should be
a match for the three watchers, my lad, and it's time that poor devil
What's-his-name was relieved."

"A bonny-like plan that would be," said Dougal. "Man, ye would be
walkin' into the very trap they want. In an hour, or maybe two, the
rest will turn up from the sea and they'd have ye tight by the neck.
Na, na! It's time we're wantin', and the longer they think we're a'
in the auld Tower the better for us. What news o' the polis?"

He listened to Sir Archie's report with a gloomy face.

"Not afore the darkening'? They'll be ower late--the polis are
aye ower late. It looks as if we had the job to do oursels.
What's your notion?"

"God knows," said the baronet, whose eyes were on Saskia. "What's yours?"

The deference conciliated Dougal. "There's just the one plan that's
worth a docken. There's five o' us here, and there's plenty weapons.
Besides there's five Die-Hards somewhere about, and though they've
never tried it afore they can be trusted to loose off a gun.
My advice is to hide at the Garplefoot and stop the boats landin'.
We'd have the tinklers on our flank, no doubt, but I'm not muckle
feared o' them. It wouldn't be easy for the boats to get in wi'
this tearin' wind and us firin' volleys from the shore."

Sir Archie stared at him with admiration. "You're a hearty
young fire-eater. But, Great Scott! we can't go pottin' at strangers
before we find out their business. This is a law-abidin' country,
and we're not entitled to start shootin' except in self-defence.
You can wash that plan out, for it ain't feasible."

Dougal spat cynically. "For all that it's the right strawtegy.
Man, we might sink the lot, and then turn and settle wi' Dobson,
and all afore the first polisman showed his neb. It would be
a grand performance. But I was feared ye wouldn't be for it....Well,
there's just the one other thing to do. We must get inside the Hoose
and put it in a state of defence. Heritage has McCunn's pistol, and
he'll keep them busy for a bit. When they've finished wi' him and
find the place is empty, they'll try the Hoose and we'll give them
a warm reception. That should keep us goin' till the polis arrive,
unless they're comin' wi' the blind carrier."

Sir Archie nodded. "But why put ourselves in their power at all?
They're at present barking up the wrong tree. Let them bark up
another wrong 'un. Why shouldn't the House remain empty? I take it
we're here to protect the Princess. Well, we'll have done that if
they go off empty-handed."

Dougal looked up to the heavens. "I wish McCunn was here," he sighed.
"Ay, we've got to protect the Princess, and there's just the one
way to do it, and that's to put an end to this crowd o' blagyirds.
If they gang empty-handed, they'll come again another day, either here
or somewhere else, and it won't be long afore they get the lassie.
But if we finish with them now she can sit down wi' an easy mind.
That's why we've got to hang on to them till the polis comes.
There's no way out o' this business but a battle."

He found an ally. "Dougal is right," said Saskia. "If I am to
have peace, by some way or other the fangs of my enemies must
be drawn for ever."

He swung round and addressed her formally. "Mem, I'm askin' ye
for the last time. Will ye keep out of this business? Will ye gang
back and sit doun aside Mrs. Morran's fire and have your teas and wait
till we come for ye. Ye can do no good, and ye're puttin' yourself
terrible in the enemy's power. If we're beat and ye're no' there,
they get very little satisfaction, but if they get you they get what
they've come seekin'. I tell ye straight--ye're an encumbrance."

She laughed mischievously. "I can shoot better than you," she said.

He ignored the taunt. "Will ye listen to sense and fall to the rear?"

"I will not," she said.

"Then gang your own gait. I'm ower wise to argy-bargy wi' women.
The Hoose be it!"

It was a journey which sorely tried Dougal's temper. The only way in
was by the verandah, but the door at the west end had been locked,
and the ladder had disappeared. Now, of his party three were lame,
one lacked an arm, and one was a girl; besides, there were the guns
and cartridges to transport. Moreover, at more than one point before
the verandah was reached the route was commanded by a point on the
ridge near the old Tower, and that had been Spidel's position when Dougal
made his last reconnaissance. It behoved to pass these points swiftly
and unobtrusively, and his company was neither swift nor unobtrusive.
McGuffog had a genius for tripping over obstacles, and Sir Archie was
for ever proffering his aid to Saskia, who was in a position to give
rather than to receive, being far the most active of the party.
Once Dougal had to take the gamekeeper's head and force it down,
a performance which would have led to an immediate assault but for
Sir Archie's presence. Nor did the latter escape. "Will ye stop
heedin' the lassie, and attend to your own job," the Chieftain growled.
"Ye're makin' as much noise as a roadroller."

Arrived at the foot of the verandah wall there remained the problem
of the escalade. Dougal clambered up like a squirrel by the help of
cracks in the stones, and he could be heard trying the handle of the
door into the House. He was absent for about five minutes, and then his
head peeped over the edge accompanied by the hooks of an iron ladder.
"From the boiler-house," he informed them as they stood clear for the thing
to drop. It proved to be little more than half the height of the wall.

Saskia ascended first, and had no difficulty in pulling herself
over the parapet. Then came the guns and ammunition, and then the
one-armed Sime, who turned out to be an athlete. But it was no easy
matter getting up the last three. Sir Archie anathematized his frailties.
"Nice old crock to go tiger--shootin' with," he told the Princess.
"But set me to something where my confounded leg don't get in the way,
and I'm still pretty useful!" Dougal, mopping his brow with the rag
he called his handkerchief, observed sourly that he objected to going
scouting with a herd of elephants.

Once indoors his spirits rose. The party from the Mains had brought
several electric torches, and the one lamp was presently found and lit.
"We can't count on the polis," Dougal announced, "and when the foreigners
is finished wi' the Tower they'll come on here. If no', we must make them.
What is it the sodgers call it? Forcin' a battle? Now see here!
There's the two roads into this place, the back door and the verandy,
leavin' out the front door which is chained and lockit. They'll try those
two roads first, and we must get them well barricaded in time. But mind,
if there's a good few o' them, it'll be an easy job to batter in the front
door or the windies, so we maun be ready for that."

He told off a fatigue party--the Princess, Sir Archie, and McGuffog-
-to help in moving furniture to the several doors. Sime and Carfrae
attended to the kitchen entrance, while he himself made a tour of
the ground-floor windows. For half an hour the empty house was loud
with strange sounds. McGuffog, who was a giant in strength, filled
the passage at the verandah end with an assortment of furniture
ranging from a grand piano to a vast mahogany sofa, while Saskia and
Sir Archie pillaged the bedrooms and packed up the interstices with
mattresses in lieu of sandbags. Dougal on his turn saw fit to
approve the work.

"That'll fickle the blagyirds. Down at the kitchen door we've
got a mangle, five wash-tubs, and the best part of a ton o' coal.
It's the windies I'm anxious about, for they're ower big to fill up.
But I've gotten tubs of water below them and a lot o' wire-nettin' I
fund in the cellar."

Sir Archie morosely wiped his brow. "I can't say I ever hated a job
more," he told Saskia. "It seems pretty cool to march into somebody
else's house and make free with his furniture. I hope to goodness
our friends from the sea do turn up, or we'll look pretty foolish.
Loudon will have a score against me he won't forget.

"Ye're no' weakenin'?" asked Dougal fiercely.

"Not a bit. Only hopin' somebody hasn't made a mighty big mistake."

"Ye needn't be feared for that. Now you listen to your instructions.
We're terrible few for such a big place, but we maun make up for
shortness o' numbers by extra mobility. The gemkeeper will keep the
windy that looks on the verandy, and fell any man that gets through.
You'll hold the verandy door, and the ither lame man--is't Carfrae ye
call him?--will keep the back door. I've telled the one-armed man,
who has some kind of a head on him, that he maun keep on the move,
watchin' to see if they try the front door or any o' the other windies.
If they do, he takes his station there. D'ye follow?"

Sir Archie nodded gloomily.

"What is my post?" Saskia asked.

"I've appointed ye my Chief of Staff," was the answer. "Ye see
we've no reserves. If this door's the dangerous bit, it maun be
reinforced from elsewhere; and that'll want savage thinkin'.
Ye'll have to be aye on the move, Mem, and keep me informed.
If they break in at two bits, we're beat, and there'll be nothing
for it but to retire to our last position. Ye ken the room ayont
the hall where they keep the coats. That's our last trench, and at
the worst we fall back there and stick it out. It has a strong door
and a wee windy, so they'll no' be able to get in on our rear.
We should be able to put up a good defence there, unless they fire
the place over our heads....Now, we'd better give out the guns."

"We don't want any shootin' if we can avoid it," said Sir Archie,
who found his distaste for Dougal growing, though he was under the
spell of the one being there who knew precisely his own mind.

"Just what I was goin' to say. My instructions is, reserve your
fire, and don't loose off till you have a man up against the
end o' your barrel."

"Good Lord, we'll get into a horrible row. The whole thing may
be a mistake, and we'll be had up for wholesale homicide.
No man shall fire unless I give the word."

The Commander-in-Chief looked at him darkly. Some bitter retort was
on his tongue, but he restrained himself.

"It appears," he said, "that ye think I'm doin' all this for fun.
I'll no' argy wi' ye. There can be just the one general in a battle,
but I'll give ye permission to say the word when to fire....Macgreegor!"
he muttered, a strange expletive only used in moments of deep emotion.
"I'll wager ye'll be for sayin' the word afore I'd say it mysel'."

He turned to the Princess. "I hand over to you, till I am back,
for I maun be off and see to the Die-Hards. I wish I could bring
them in here, but I daren't lose my communications. I'll likely get
in by the boiler-house skylight when I come back, but it might be as
well to keep a road open here unless ye're actually attacked."

Dougal clambered over the mattresses and the grand piano; a flicker of
waning daylight appeared for a second as he squeezed through the door,
and Sir Archie was left staring at the wrathful countenance of McGuffog.
He laughed ruefully.

"I've been in about forty battles, and here's that little devil
rather worried about my pluck and talkin' to me like a corps
commander to a newly joined second-lieutenant. All the same
he's a remarkable child, and we'd better behave as if we were
in for a real shindy. What do you think, Princess?"

"I think we are in for what you call a shindy. I am in command, remember.
I order you to serve out the guns."

This was done, a shot-gun and a hundred cartridges to each,
while McGuffog, who was a marksman, was also given a sporting
Mannlicher, and two other rifles, a .303 and a small-bore Holland,
were kept in reserve in the hall. Sir Archie, free from Dougal's
compelling presence, gave the gamekeeper peremptory orders not to
shoot till he was bidden, and Carfrae at the kitchen door was warned
to the same effect. The shuttered house, where the only light apart
from the garden-room was the feeble spark of the electric torches,
had the most disastrous effect upon his spirits. The gale which
roared in the chimney and eddied among the rafters of the hall
seemed an infernal commotion in a tomb.

"Let's go upstairs," he told Saskia; "there must be a view from
the upper windows."

"You can see the top of the old Tower, and part of the sea," she said.
"I know it well, for it was my only amusement to look at it.
On clear days, too, one could see high mountains far in the west."
His depression seemed to have affected her, for she spoke listlessly,
unlike the vivid creature who had led the way in.

In a gaunt west-looking bedroom, the one in which Heritage and
Dickson had camped the night before, they opened a fold of the
shutters and looked out into a world of grey wrack and driving rain.
The Tower roof showed mistily beyond the ridge of down, but its
environs were not in their prospect. The lower regions of the House
had been gloomy enough, but this bleak place with its drab outlook
struck a chill to Sir Archie's soul. He dolefully lit a cigarette.

"This is a pretty rotten show for you," he told her. "It strikes me
as a rather unpleasant brand of nightmare."

"I have been living with nightmares for three years," she said wearily.

He cast his eyes round the room. "I think the Kennedys were mad to
build this confounded barrack. I've always disliked it, and old Quentin
hadn't any use for it either. Cold, cheerless, raw monstrosity!
It hasn't been a very giddy place for you, Princess."

"It has been my prison, when I hoped it would be a sanctuary. But it
may yet be my salvation."

"I'm sure I hope so. I say, you must be jolly hungry. I don't suppose
there's any chance of tea for you."

She shook her head. She was looking fixedly at the Tower, as if she
expected something to appear there, and he followed her eyes.

"Rum old shell, that. Quentin used to keep all kinds of live
stock there, and when we were boys it was our castle where we
played at bein' robber chiefs. It'll be dashed queer if the real
thing should turn up this time. I suppose McCunn's Poet is roostin'
there all by his lone. Can't say I envy him his job."

Suddenly she caught his arm. "I see a man," she whispered.
"There! He is behind those far bushes. There is his head again!"

It was clearly a man, but he presently disappeared, for he had come
round by the south end of the House, past the stables, and had now
gone over the ridge.

"The cut of his jib us uncommonly like Loudon, the factor.
I thought McCunn had stretched him on a bed of pain. Lord, if this
thing should turn out a farce, I simply can't face Loudon....I say,
Princess, you don't suppose by any chance that McCunn's a little bit
wrong in the head?"

She turned her candid eyes on him. "You are in a very doubting mood."

"My feet are cold and I don't mind admittin' it. Hanged if I
know what it is, but I don't feel this show a bit real. If it isn't,
we're in a fair way to make howlin' idiots of ourselves, and get
pretty well embroiled with the law. It's all right for the red-haired
boy, for he can take everything seriously, even play. I could do the
same thing myself when I was a kid. I don't mind runnin' some kind of
risk--I've had a few in my time--but this is so infernally outlandish,
and I--I don't quite believe in it. That is to say, I believe in it
right enough when I look at you or listen to McCunn, but as soon as my
eyes are off you I begin to doubt again. I'm gettin' old and I've a
stake in the country, and I daresay I'm gettin' a bit of a prig--anyway
I don't want to make a jackass of myself. Besides, there's this foul
weather and this beastly house to ice my feet."

He broke off with an exclamation, for on the grey cloud-bounded
stage in which the roof of the Tower was the central feature,
actors had appeared. Dim hurrying shapes showed through the mist,
dipping over the ridge, as if coming from the Garplefoot.

She seized his arm and he saw that her listlessness was gone.
Her eyes were shining.

"It is they," she cried. "The nightmare is real at last.
Do you doubt now?"

He could only stare, for these shapes arriving and vanishing like
wisps of fog still seemed to him phantasmal. The girl held his arm
tightly clutched, and craned towards the window space. He tried to
open the frame, and succeeded in smashing the glass. A swirl of wind
drove inwards and blew a loose lock of Saskia's hair across his brow.

"I wish Dougal were back," he muttered, and then came the crack of a shot.

The pressure on his arm slackened, and a pale face was turned to him.
"He is alone--Mr. Heritage. He has no chance. They will kill him
like a dog."

"They'll never get in," he assured her. "Dougal said the place could
hold out for hours."

Another shot followed and presently a third. She twined her hands
and her eyes were wild.

"We can't leave him to be killed," she gasped.

"It's the only game. We're playin' for time, remember. Besides, he won't
be killed. Great Scott!"

As he spoke, a sudden explosion cleft the drone of the wind and a
patch of gloom flashed into yellow light.

"Bomb!" he cried. "Lord, I might have thought of that."

The girl had sprung back from the window. "I cannot bear it.
I will not see him murdered in sight of his friends. I am going to
show myself, and when they see me they will leave him....No, you
must stay here. Presently they will be round this house.
Don't be afraid for me--I am very quick of foot."

"For God's sake, don't! Here, Princess, stop," and he clutched
at her skirt. "Look here, I'll go."

"You can't. You have been wounded. I am in command, you know.
Keep the door open till I come back."

He hobbled after her, but she easily eluded him. She was smiling
now, and blew a kiss to him. "La, la, la," she trilled, as she ran
down the stairs. He heard her voice below, admonishing McGuffog.
Then he pulled himself together and went back to the window.
He had brought the little Holland with him, and he poked its
barrel through the hole in the glass.

"Curse my game leg," he said, almost cheerfully, for the situation
was now becoming one with which he could cope. "I ought to be able
to hold up the pursuit a bit. My aunt! What a girl!"

With the rifle cuddled to his shoulder he watched a slim figure come
into sight on the lawn, running towards the ridge. He reflected that
she must have dropped from the high verandah wall. That reminded him
that something must be done to make the wall climbable for her return,
so he went down to McGuffog, and the two squeezed through the barricaded
door to the verandah. The boilerhouse ladder was still in position,
but it did not reach half the height, so McGuffog was adjured to
stand by to help, and in the meantime to wait on duty by the wall.
Then he hurried upstairs to his watch-tower.

The girl was in sight, almost on the crest of the high ground.
There she stood for a moment, one hand clutching at her errant hair,
the other shielding her eyes from the sting of the rain. He heard
her cry, as Heritage had heard her, but since the wind was blowing
towards him the sound came louder and fuller. Again she cried, and
then stood motionless with her hands above her head. It was only for
an instant, for the next he saw she had turned and was racing down
the slope, jumping the little scrogs of hazel like a deer. On the
ridge appeared faces, and then over it swept a mob of men.

She had a start of some fifty yards, and laboured to increase it,
having doubtless the verandah wall in mind. Sir Archie, sick with anxiety,
nevertheless spared time to admire her prowess. "Gad! she's a miler,"
he ejaculated. "She'll do it. I'm hanged if she don't do it."

Against men in seamen's boots and heavy clothing she had a clear advantage.
But two shook themselves loose from the pack and began to gain on her.
At the main shrubbery they were not thirty yards behind, and in her
passage through it her skirts must have delayed her, for when she
emerged the pursuit had halved the distance. He got the sights of the
rifle on the first man, but the lawns sloped up towards the house, and
to his consternation he found that the girl was in the line of fire.
Madly he ran to the other window of the room, tore back the shutters,
shivered the glass, and flung his rifle to his shoulder. The fellow was
within three yards of her, but, thank God! he had now a clear field.
He fired low and just ahead of him, and had the satisfaction to see him
drop like a rabbit, shot in the leg. His companion stumbled over him,
and for a moment the girl was safe.

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