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<h2> CHAPTER V </h2>
<h3> THE PLOT </h3>
<p>The sequel to the events of this evening may be told very briefly and of
it the reader can form his own judgment. I narrate it as it happened.</p>
<p>That night I did not sleep at all well. It may have been because of the
excitement of the great shoot in which I found myself in competition with
another man whom I disliked and who had defrauded me in the past, to say
nothing of its physical strain in cold and heavy weather. Or it may have
been that my imagination was stirred by the arrival of that strange pair,
Har�t and Mar�t, apparently in search of myself, seven thousand miles away
from any place where they can have known aught of an insignificant
individual with a purely local repute. Or it may have been that the
pictures which they showed me when under the influence of the fumes of
their "tobacco"—or of their hypnotism—took an undue possession
of my brain.</p>
<p>Or lastly, the strange coincidence that the beautiful betrothed of my host
should have related to me a tale of her childhood of which she declared
she had never spoken before, and that within an hour the two principal
actors in that tale should have appeared before my eyes and hers (for I
may state that from the beginning I had no doubt that they were the same
men), moved me and filled me with quite natural foreboding. Or all these
things together may have tended to a concomitant effect. At any rate the
issue was that I could not sleep.</p>
<p>For hour after hour I lay thinking and in an irritated way listening for
the chimes of the Ragnall stable-clock which once had adorned the tower of
the church and struck the quarters with a damnable reiteration. I
concluded that Messrs. Har�t and Mar�t were a couple of common Arab rogues
such as I had seen performing at the African ports. Then a quarter struck
and I concluded that the elephants' cemetery which I beheld in the smoke
undoubtedly existed and that I meant to collar those thousands of pounds'
worth of ivory before I died. Then after another quarter I concluded that
there was no elephants' cemetery—although by the way my old friend,
Dogeetah or Brother John, had mentioned such a thing to me—but that
probably there was a tribe, as he had also mentioned, called the Kendah,
who worshipped a baby, or rather its effigy.</p>
<p>Well now, as had already occurred to me, the old Egyptians, of whom I was
always fond of reading when I got a chance, also worshipped a child, Horus
the Saviour. And that child had a mother called Isis symbolized in the
crescent moon, the great Nature goddess, the mistress of mysteries to
whose cult ten thousand priests were sworn—do not Herodotus and
others, especially Apuleius, tell us all about her? And by a queer
coincidence Miss Holmes had the mark of a crescent moon upon her breast.
And when she was a child those two men, or others very like them, had
pointed out that mark to each other. And I had seen them staring hard at
it that night. And in her vapour-invoked dream the "Heavenly Child," <i>alias</i>
Horus, or the double of Horus, the <i>Ka</i>, I think the Egyptians called
it, had awakened at the sight of her and kissed her and given her the
necklace of the goddess, and—all the rest. What did it mean?</p>
<p>I went to sleep at last wondering what on earth it <i>could</i> mean, till
presently that confounded clock woke me up again and I must go through the
whole business once more.</p>
<p>By degrees, this was towards dawn, I became aware that all hope of rest
had vanished from me utterly; that I was most painfully awake, and what is
more, oppressed by a curious fear to the effect that something was going
to happen to Miss Holmes. So vivid did this fear become that at length I
arose, lit a candle and dressed myself. As it happened I knew where Miss
Holmes slept. Her room, which I had seen her enter, was on the same
corridor as mine though at the other end of it near the head of a stair
that ran I knew not whither. In my portmanteau that had been sent over
from Miss Manners's house, amongst other things was a small
double-barrelled pistol which from long habit I always carried with me
loaded, except for the caps that were in a little leather case with some
spare ammunition attached to the pistol belt. I took it out, capped it and
thrust it into my pocket. Then I slipped from the room and stood behind a
tall clock in the corridor, watching Miss Holmes's door and reflecting
what a fool I should look if anyone chanced to find me.</p>
<p>Half an hour or so later by the light of the setting moon which struggled
through a window, I saw the door open and Miss Holmes emerge in a kind of
dressing-gown and still wearing the necklace which Har�t and Mar�t had
given her. Of this I was sure for the light gleamed upon the red stones.</p>
<p>Also it shone upon her face and showed me without doubt that she was
walking in her sleep.</p>
<p>Gliding as silently as a ghost she crossed the corridor and vanished. I
followed and saw that she had descended an ancient, twisting stairway
which I had noted in the castle wall. I went after her, my stockinged feet
making no noise, feeling my way carefully in the darkness of the stair,
for I did not dare to strike a match. Beneath me I heard a noise as of
someone fumbling with bolts. Then a door creaked on its hinges and there
was some light. When I reached the doorway I caught sight of the figure of
Miss Holmes flitting across a hollow garden that was laid out in the
bottom of the castle moat which had been drained. The garden, as I had
observed when we walked through it on the previous day on our way to the
first covert that we shot, was bordered by a shrubbery through which ran
paths that led to the back drive of the castle.</p>
<p>Across the garden glided the figure of Miss Holmes and after it went I,
crouching and taking cover behind every bush as though I were stalking big
game, which indeed I was. She entered the shrubbery, moving much more
swiftly now, for as she went she seemed to gather speed, like a stone
which is rolled down a hill. It was as though whatever might be attracting
her, for I felt sure that she was being drawn by something, acted more
strongly upon her sleeping will as she drew nearer to it. For a while I
lost sight of her in the shadow of the tall trees. Then suddenly I saw her
again, standing quite still in an opening caused by the blowing down in
the gale of one of the avenue of elms that bordered the back drive. But
now she was no longer alone, for advancing towards her were two cloaked
figures in whom I recognized Har�t and Mar�t.</p>
<p>There she stood with outstretched arms, and towards her, stealthily as
lions stalking a buck, came Har�t and Mar�t. Moreover, between the naked
boughs of the fallen elm I caught sight of what looked like the outline of
a closed carriage standing upon the drive. Also I heard a horse stamp upon
the frosty ground. Round the edge of the little glade I ran, keeping in
the dark shadow, as I went cocking the pistol that was in my pocket. Then
suddenly I darted out and stood between Har�t and Mar�t and Miss Holmes.</p>
<p>Not a word passed between us. I think that all three of us subconsciously
were anxious not to awake the sleeping woman, knowing that if we did so
there would be a terrible scene. Only after motioning to me to stand
aside, of course in vain, Har�t and Mar�t drew from their robes curved and
cruel-looking knives and bowed, for even now their politeness did not
forsake them. I bowed back and when I straightened myself those
enterprising Easterns found that I was covering the heart of Har�t with my
pistol. Then with that perception which is part of the mental outfit of
the great, they saw that the game was up since I could have shot them both
before a knife touched me.</p>
<p>"You have won this time, O Watcher-by-Night," whispered Har�t softly, "but
another time you will lose. That beautiful lady belongs to us and the
People of the White Kendah, for she is marked with the holy mark of the
young moon. The call of the Child of Heaven is heard in her heart, and
will bring her home to the Child as it has brought her to us to-night. Now
lead her hence still sleeping, O brave and clever one, so well named
Watcher-by-Night."</p>
<p>Then they were gone and presently I heard the sound of horses being driven
rapidly along the drive.</p>
<p>For a moment I hesitated as to whether I would or would not run in and
shoot those horses. Two considerations stayed me. The first was that if I
did so my pistol would be empty, or even if I shot one horse and retained
a barrel loaded, with it I could only kill a single man, leaving myself
defenceless against the knife of the other. The second consideration was
that now as before I did not wish to wake up Miss Holmes.</p>
<p>I crept to her and not knowing what else to do, took hold of one of her
outstretched hands. She turned and came with me at once as though she knew
me, remaining all the while fast asleep. Thus we went back to the house,
through the still open door, up the stairway straight to her own room, on
the threshold of which I loosed her hand. The room was dark and I could
see nothing, but I listened until I heard a sound as of a person throwing
herself upon the bed and drawing up the blankets. Then knowing that she
was safe for a while, I shut the door, which opened outwards as doors of
ancient make sometimes do, and set against it a little table that stood in
the passage.</p>
<p>Next, after reflecting for a minute, the circumstances being awkward in
many ways, I went to my room and lit a candle. Obviously it was my duty to
inform Lord Ragnall of what had happened and that as soon as possible. But
I had no idea in what part of that huge building his sleeping place might
be, nor, for patent reasons, was it desirable that I should disturb the
house and so create talk. In this dilemma I remembered that Lord Ragnall's
confidential servant, Mr. Savage, when he conducted me to my room on the
previous night, which he made a point of doing perhaps because he wished
to talk over the matter of the snakes that had found their way into his
pockets, had shown me a bell in it which he said rang outside his door. He
called it an "emergency bell." I remarked idly that it was improbable that
I should have any occasion for its use.</p>
<p>"Who knows, sir?" said Mr. Savage prophetically. "There are folk who say
that this old castle is haunted, which after what I have seen to-night I
can well believe. If you should chance to meet a ghost looking, let us
say, like those black villains, Harum and Scarum, or whatever they call
themselves—well, sir, two's better company than one."</p>
<p>I considered that bell but was loath to ring it for the reasons I have
given. Then I went outside the room and looked. As I had hoped might be
the case, there ran the wire on the face of the wall connected along its
length by other wires with the various rooms it passed.</p>
<p>I set to work and followed that wire. It was not an easy job; indeed once
or twice it reminded me of that story of the old Greek hero who found his
way through a labyrinth by means of a silken thread. I forget whether it
were a bull or a lady he was looking for, but with care and perseverance
he found one or the other, or it may have been both.</p>
<p>Down staircases and various passages I went with my eye glued upon the
wire, which occasionally got mixed up with other wires, till at length it
led me through a swing door covered with red baize into what appeared to
be a modern annexe to the castle. Here at last it terminated on the spring
of an alarming-looking and deep-throated bell that hung immediately over a
certain door.</p>
<p>On this door I knocked, hoping that it might be that of Mr. Savage and
praying earnestly that it did not enclose the chaste resting-place of the
cook or any other female. Too late, I mean after I had knocked, it
occurred to me that if so my position would be painful to a degree.
However in this particular Fortune stood my friend, which does not always
happen to the virtuous. For presently I heard a voice which I recognized
as that of Mr. Savage, asking, not without a certain quaver in its tone,</p>
<p>"Who the devil is that?"</p>
<p>"Me," I replied, being flustered.</p>
<p>"'Me' won't do," said the voice. "'Me' might be Harum or it might be
Scarum, or it might be someone worse. Who's 'Me'?"</p>
<p>"Allan Quatermain, you idiot," I whispered through the keyhole.</p>
<p>"Anna who? Well, never mind. Go away, Hanna. I'll talk to you in the
morning."</p>
<p>Then I kicked the door, and at length, very cautiously, Mr. Savage opened
it.</p>
<p>"Good heavens, sir," he said, "what are you doing here, sir? Dressed too,
at this hour, and with the handle of a pistol sticking out of your pocket—or
is it—the head of a snake?" and he jumped back, a strange and
stately figure in a long white nightshirt which apparently he wore over
his underclothing.</p>
<p>I entered the room and shut the door, whereon he politely handed me a
chair, remarking,</p>
<p>"Is it ghosts, sir, or are you ill, or is it Harum and Scarum, of whom I
have been thinking all night? Very cold too, sir, being afraid to pull up
the bedclothes for fear lest there might be more reptiles in them." He
pointed to his dress-coat hanging on the back of another chair with both
the pockets turned inside out, adding tragically, "To think, sir, that
this new coat has been a nest of snakes, which I have hated like poison
from a child, and me almost a teetotaller!"</p>
<p>"Yes," I said impatiently, "it's Harum and Scarum as you call them. Take
me to Lord Ragnall's bedroom at once."</p>
<p>"Ah! sir, burgling, I suppose, or mayhap worse," he exclaimed as he threw
on some miscellaneous garments and seized a life-preserver which hung upon
a hook. "Now I'm ready, only I hope they have left their snakes behind. I
never could bear the sight of a snake, and they seem to know it—the
brutes."</p>
<p>In due course we reached Lord Ragnall's room, which Mr. Savage entered,
and in answer to a stifled inquiry exclaimed,</p>
<p>"Mr. Allan Quatermain to see you, my lord."</p>
<p>"What is it, Quatermain?" he asked, sitting up in bed and yawning. "Have
you had a nightmare?"</p>
<p>"Yes," I answered, and Savage having left us and shut the door, I told him
everything as it is written down.</p>
<p>"Great heavens!" he exclaimed when I had finished. "If it had not been for
you and your intuition and courage——"</p>
<p>"Never mind me," I interrupted. "The question is—what should be done
now? Are you going to try to arrest these men, or will you—hold your
tongue and merely cause them to be watched?"</p>
<p>"Really I don't know. Even if we can catch them the whole story would
sound so strange in a law-court, and all sorts of things might be
suggested."</p>
<p>"Yes, Lord Ragnall, it would sound so strange that I beg you will come at
once to see the evidences of what I tell you, before rain or snow
obliterates them, bringing another witness with you. Lady Longden,
perhaps."</p>
<p>"Lady Longden! Why one might as well write to <i>The Times</i>. I have it!
There's Savage. He is faithful and can be silent."</p>
<p>So Savage was called in and, while Lord Ragnall dressed himself hurriedly,
told the outline of his story under pain of instant dismissal if he
breathed a word. Really to watch his face was as good as a play. So
astonished was he that all he could ejaculate was—</p>
<p>"The black-hearted villains! Well, they ain't friendly with snakes for
nothing."</p>
<p>Then having made sure that Miss Holmes was still in her room, we went down
the twisting stair and through the side doorway, locking the door after
us. By now the dawn was breaking and there was enough light to enable me
in certain places where the snow that fell after the gale remained, to
show Lord Ragnall and Savage the impress of the little bedroom slippers
which Miss Holmes wore, and of my stockinged feet following after.</p>
<p>In the plantation things were still easier, for every detail of the
movements of the four of us could be traced. Moreover, on the back drive
was the spoor of the horses and the marks of the wheels of the carriage
that had been brought for the purposes of the abduction. Also my great
good fortune, for this seemed to prove my theory, we found a parcel
wrapped in native linen that appeared to have fallen out of the carriage
when Har�t and Mar�t made their hurried escape, as one of the wheels had
gone over it. It contained an Eastern woman's dress and veil, intended, I
suppose, to be used in disguising Miss Holmes, who thence-forward would
have appeared to be the wife or daughter of one of the abductors.</p>
<p>Savage discovered this parcel, which he lifted only to drop it with a
yell, for underneath it lay a torpid snake, doubtless one of those that
had been used in the performance.</p>
<p>Of these discoveries and many other details, on our return to the house,
Lord Ragnall made full notes in a pocket-book, that when completed were
signed by all three of us.</p>
<p>There is not much more to tell, that is of this part of the story. The
matter was put into the hands of detectives who discovered that the
Easterns had driven to London, where all traces of the carriage which
conveyed them was lost. They, however, embarked upon a steamer called the
<i>Antelope</i>, together with two native women, who probably had been
provided to look after Miss Holmes, and sailed that very afternoon for
Egypt. Thither, of course, it was useless to follow them in those days,
even if it had been advisable to do so.</p>
<p>To return to Miss Holmes. She came down to breakfast looking very charming
but rather pale. Again I sat next to her and took some opportunity to ask
her how she had rested that night.</p>
<p>She replied, Very well and yet very ill, since, although she never
remembered sleeping more soundly in her life, she had experienced all
sorts of queer dreams of which she could remember nothing at all, a
circumstance that annoyed her much, as she was sure that they were most
interesting. Then she added,</p>
<p>"Do you know, Mr. Quatermain, I found a lot of mud on my dressing-gown
this morning, and my bedroom slippers were also a mass of mud and wet
through. How do you account for that? It is just as though I had been
walking about outside in my sleep, which is absurd, as I never did such a
thing in my life."</p>
<p>Not feeling equal to the invention of any convincing explanation of these
phenomena, I upset the marmalade pot on to the table in such a way that
some of it fell upon her dress, and then covered my retreat with profuse
apologies. Understanding my dilemma, for he had heard something of this
talk, Lord Ragnall came to my aid with a startling statement of which I
forget the purport, and thus that crisis passed.</p>
<p>Shortly after breakfast Scroope announced to Miss Manners that her
carriage was waiting, and we departed. Before I went, as it chanced, I had
a few private words with my host, with Miss Holmes, and with the
magnificent Mr. Savage. To the last, by the way, I offered a tip which he
refused, saying that after all we had gone through together he could not
allow "money to come between us," by which he meant, to pass from my
pocket to his. Lord Ragnall asked me for both my English and my African
addresses, which he noted in his pocket-book. Then he said,</p>
<p>"Really, Quatermain, I feel as though I had known you for years instead of
three days; if you will allow me I will add that I should like to know a
great deal more of you." (He was destined to do so, poor fellow, though
neither of us knew it at the time.) "If ever you come to England again I
hope you will make this house your headquarters."</p>
<p>"And if ever you come to South Africa, Lord Ragnall, I hope you will make
my four-roomed shanty on the Berea at Durban your headquarters. You will
get a hearty welcome there and something to eat, but little more."</p>
<p>"There is nothing I should like better, Quatermain. Circumstances have put
me in a certain position in this country, still to tell you the truth
there is a great deal about the life of which I grow very tired. But you
see I am going to be married, and that I fear means an end of travelling,
since naturally my wife will wish to take her place in society and the
rest."</p>
<p>"Of course," I replied, "for it is not every young lady who has the luck
to become an English peeress with all the etceteras, is it? Still I am not
so sure but that Miss Holmes will take to travelling some day, although I
<i>am</i> sure that she would do better to stay at home."</p>
<p>He looked at me curiously, then asked,</p>
<p>"You don't think there is anything really serious in all this business, do
you?"</p>
<p>"I don't know what to think," I answered, "except that you will do well to
keep a good eye upon your wife. What those Easterns tried to do last night
and, I think, years ago, they may try again soon, or years hence, for
evidently they are patient and determined men with much to win. Also it is
a curious coincidence that she should have that mark upon her which
appeals so strongly to Messrs. Har�t and Mar�t, and, to be brief, she is
in some ways different from most young women. As she said to me herself
last night, Lord Ragnall, we are surrounded by mysteries; mysteries of
blood, of inherited spirit, of this world generally in which it is
probable that we all descended from quite a few common ancestors. And
beyond these are other mysteries of the measureless universe to which we
belong, that may already be exercising their strong and secret influences
upon us, as perhaps, did we know it, they have done for millions of years
in the Infinite whence we came and whither we go."</p>
<p>I suppose I spoke somewhat solemnly, for he said,</p>
<p>"Do you know you frighten me a little, though I don't quite understand
what you mean." Then we parted.</p>
<p>With Miss Holmes my conversation was shorter. She remarked,</p>
<p>"It has been a great pleasure to me to meet you. I do not remember anybody
with whom I have found myself in so much sympathy—except one of
course. It is strange to think that when we meet again I shall be a
married woman."</p>
<p>"I do not suppose we shall ever meet again, Miss Holmes. Your life is
here, mine is in the wildest places of a wild land far away."</p>
<p>"Oh! yes, we shall," she answered. "I learned this and lots of other
things when I held my head in that smoke last night."</p>
<p>Then we also parted.</p>
<p>Lastly Mr. Savage arrived with my coat. "Goodbye, Mr. Quatermain," he
said. "If I forget everything else I shall never forget you and those
villains, Harum and Scarum and their snakes. I hope it won't be my lot
ever to clap eyes on them again, Mr. Quatermain, and yet somehow I don't
feel so sure of that."</p>
<p>"Nor do I," I replied, with a kind of inspiration, after which followed
the episode of the rejected tip.</p>
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