The Great Temptation (Thriller Novel). Richard Marsh
was than fall into the hands of ruffians, who in my weakened, helpless condition, would make nothing of slitting my throat.
Yet they found me. Suddenly I heard steps descending what I knew were the stairs leading to my cellar. A dog came with them the barking dog. Was the creature leading them to me? I picked up from the floor two bottles; with one held in either hand I awaited their coming. At least I would break one on someone's head before they had me I cared not whose the head might be. The footsteps paused just outside the cellar door. Voices muttered sinister voices they sounded to me. The key was turned in the lock, bolts were drawn, the door flung open, and the same instant I dashed through it.
Two men stood just outside it; I did not stop to see what kind of men they were; I struck at each with my bottles. I struck both, with what result I did not wait to learn. I know that one of them struck at me with some bright thing which he had in his hand, which I took to be a knife, and missed. I imagined I kicked the dog; I was not conscious of its presence, but a dog yelped as if it had been badly hurt. I supposed that it was hurt by me, though willingly I would not hurt a living thing.
I reached the top of the stairs before anyone could touch me. A man was waiting there for my arrival; I fancy the rapidity of my movements, my agility, took him by surprise. I still had my two bottles; I struck at him first with one and then with the other; one of them shivered into splinters as if it had come into contact with something metallic. The man dropped down. I turned to the left to find myself in the filthy room whose acquaintance I had already made. Someone was after me I fancied more than one. The window was open; I made for it. Without hesitation I screwed myself through it the window was small, my coat was huge it had to be a squeeze. Without looking what was below I let myself drop. But I did not drop. The skirt of my preposterous coat caught on a nail in the wall, or on something of the kind. I turned upside down. For some seconds I was suspended in that position between heaven and earth. I kept my senses enough to see that the ground was not very far beneath me. I gave myself a sort of jerk I fancy the nail gave way I went toppling to earth.
I do not think I fell more than three or four feet. Luckily I alighted on my hands, still in the possession of my senses. Scrambling to my feet I saw that a man was leaning through the window above with what looked like a revolver in his hand. I did not wait for him to fire; I rushed across the yard to a door which I had become aware was in the corner. The yard was but a tiny one; three or four steps took me to the door; I was through it with another and then that fellow fired. I heard the bullet strike the door behind me; it did not touch me. I tore straight on, through what seemed to be a narrow entry running by another house, into a street beyond. Then I paused, dazed, wondering where I had got to, where I was next to go. The moment I paused I reeled; if it had not been for a friendly railing I should have tumbled. I had taken more out of myself than I had supposed. Feet were coming after me I should be taken after all! I had lost my bottles; I had nothing with which to offer even a show of resistance. Just as I was trying to reconcile myself to the fact that all was over, I became conscious that a motor car was standing by the pavement, that the door opened, that someone came out of it someone who took me by the arm and led me to the car; someone, moreover, who, when in my state of haziness I found the car a little difficult to enter, gave me at a judicious moment a dexterous boost from behind which not only induced me to enter the car, but also landed me on the seat to my left. The moment I was on my feet my assistant followed, the door was banged, and the car was off. I daresay the whole thing was done inside five seconds.
I think I must have fainted, or done something equally grotesque, because when I again became conscious of my surroundings I knew that the car was passing through a wide street, in which there were many vehicles as well as people, and that by my side was a woman. I did not turn to look at her; I knew she was there without turning. I was content to sit right back and drink in the clean, strong air which the movement of the car drove against my face. I had no notion whose the car was or where we were going, or who the woman might be. In a dozy, hazy state of mind and body, all I wanted was to drink in the air, enjoy the movement of the car, and keep quite still.
It was a shock to me when the car all at once came to a stop. The woman at my side, leaning towards me, placed her hand upon my arm and said something which I did not understand. When she shook me slightly I sat up, and glancing round realised that the car was standing in front of a house, the front door of which was approached by a flight of steps. The woman spoke to me again. I still did not understand what she said. When the chauffeur got off his seat, and the door was opened, and she descended, I did understand that I was invited to follow. With uncertain legs and tottery feet I got on to the pavement. The chauffeur lent me the support of his arm. The woman had mounted the steps I believe she opened the door with a key. At any rate the chauffeur helped me up the steps, and when we reached the top the door was open. Having a vague recollection of my previous experience of entering a strange house, I was feebly inclined to ask what it was that they proposed to do with me. But I was too feeble to get the words out. I know I entered the house with the assistance of the chauffeur and the woman, was helped along a passage, and was presently deposited in an easy-chair in some sort of sitting-room. In that easy-chair I leaned back and, I fancy, was instantly asleep.
How long I slept I cannot say. Only, I imagine, a few minutes. I was roused by someone taking me by the shoulders and treating me to a shaking. I awoke to find a man standing by my side and bending down to look at me.
He was a biggish man, with a clean-shaven, pleasant face not at all the type of face I had seen in that filthy room. Even in my then soporific condition I should have said that this man was a gentleman. From the first moment I saw him with my sleep-laden eyes he inspired me with confidence. I knew that his was the face not only of an intelligent, but also of a clever and resourceful man. I don't know how I knew it, but I did. When he saw that I was awake he said something to me in an unknown tongue; then he laughed I fancied at the puzzlement which was in my eyes.
Then he spoke to someone who was not me.
"Poor devil! He looks as if he had been scared half out of his life, and lost his wits for keeps. He's not the sort assassins ought to be made of. Gentlemen who have been engaged on jobs like his ought to be made of tougher stuff. He's just a babe."
Then I knew that the woman was in the room and that he spoke to her. She answered.
"Men who, as you put it, are engaged on jobs like his are not chosen for their fitness, but by the hazard of the lot they draw for the honour."
"My word! the honour! that's a pretty word."
"Self-sacrifice has been held to be honourable. When a man does what he has done he sacrifices all."
"He does not look as if he ever had much to sacrifice."
"That is not a fault to reproach him with. When a man gives all that he hath he cannot give more."
"True; that's a pretty plain proposition I'm not out to deny it. You speak to him; perhaps he'll understand you better than he seems to do me."
"Pardon me I understand you perfectly." I was in a state in which my perceptions were not keen, yet I was conscious that those two persons started as if I had said the one thing for which they were unprepared.
CHAPTER V
THE PILL
They stared at me. The man drew a little away from my chair and stood inspecting me as if I were a singular specimen of he knew not what. The woman placed herself right in front of me and frankly stared. I became aware that she herself was worth looking at. I had a vague idea as I dozed beside her in the car that she was a woman of mature age. Now I perceived that she was little more than a girl, tall and slender, big-eyed, oval-faced, with a mouth which was at once strong and tender, and an abundance of light brown hair framing her brow in a mass of little curls. She wore some sort of motoring costume which I cannot describe, but I know that she had on a little grey fur cap which became her well. Something about her air, her carriage, her attire I know not what, but it was there suggested the caste of Vere de Vere, aristocrat to the finger-tips. And withal so sweet, so sympathetic,