A Bid for Fortune by Guy Boothby (top 5 ebook reader .txt) 📕

was white and that his face was deeply pitted with smallpox marks. Now, where had I met or heard of a man with those two peculiarities before? Ah! I remembered!

He stood for a moment in the doorway looking about him, and then strolled into the centre of the room.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said, with an airy condescension that stung like an insult; “I trust you have no fault to find with the lodging our poor hospitality is able to afford you.”

“Mr. Prendergast,” I answered, determined to try him with the name of the man mentioned by my sweetheart in her letter. “What does this mean? Why have we been made prisoners like this? I demand to be released at once. You will have to answer to our consul for this detention.”

For a brief space he appeared to be dumbfounded by my knowledge of his name. But he soon recovered himself and leaned his back against the wall, looking us both carefully over before he answered.

“I shall be only too pleased,” he said sneeringly, “but if you’ll allow me to say so, I don’t think we need trouble about explanations yet awhile.”

“Pray, what do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I say; as you are likely to be our guests for some considerable time to come, there will be no need for explanation.”

“You mean to keep us prisoners, then, do you? Very well, Mr. Prendergast, be assured of this, when I do get loose I’ll make you feel the weight of my arm.”

“I think it’s very probable there will be a fight if ever we do meet,” he answered, coolly taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. “And it’s my impression you’d be a man worth fighting, Mr. Hatteras.”

“If you think my father will let me remain here very long you’re much mistaken,” said Beckenham. “And as for the ransom you expect him to pay, I don’t somehow fancy you’ll get a halfpenny.”

At the mention of the word “ransom” I noticed that a new and queer expression came into our captor’s face. He did not reply, however, except to utter his usual irritating laugh. Having done so he went to the door and called something in Arabic. In answer a gigantic negro made his appearance, bearing in his hands a tray on which were set two basins of food and two large mugs of water. These were placed before us, and Prendergast bade us, if we were hungry, fall to.

“You must not imagine that we wish to starve you,” he said. “Food will be served to you twice a day. And if you want it, you can even be supplied with spirits and tobacco. Now, before I go, one word of advice: Don’t indulge in any idea of escape. Communication with the outside world is absolutely impossible, and you will find that those collars and chains will stand a good strain before they will give way. If you behave yourselves you will be well looked after; but if you attempt any larks you will be confined in different rooms, and there will be a radical change in our behaviour towards you.”

So saying he left the room, taking the precaution to lock the door carefully behind him.

When we were once more alone, a long silence fell upon us. It would be idle for me to say that the generous behaviour of the young Marquis with regard to my share in this wretched business had set my mind at rest. But if it had not done that it had at least served to intensify another resolution. Come what might, I told myself, I would find a way of escape, and he should be returned to his father safe and sound, if it cost me my life to do it. But how were we to escape? We could not move from our places on account of the chains that secured us to the walls, and, though I put all my whole strength into it, I found I could not dislodge the staple a hundredth part of an inch from its holding-place.

The morning wore slowly on, midday came and went, the afternoon dragged its dismal length, and still there was no change in our position. Towards sundown the same gigantic negro entered the room again, bringing us our evening meal. When he left we were locked up for the night, with only the contemplation of our woes, and the companionship of the multitudes of mice that scampered about the floor, to enliven us.

The events of the next seven days are hardly worth chronicling, unless it is to state that every morning at daylight the same cock crew and the same dog barked, while at six o’clock the same cripple invariably made his way down the street behind me. At eight o’clock, almost to the minute, breakfast was served to us, and, just as punctually, the evening meal made its appearance as the sun was declining behind the opposite housetop. Not again did we see any sign of Mr. Prendergast, and though times out of number I tugged at my chain I was never a whit nearer loosening it than I had been on the first occasion. One after another plans of escape were proposed, discussed, and invariably rejected as impracticable. So another week passed and another, until we had been imprisoned in that loathsome place not less than twenty days. By the end of that time, as may be supposed, we were as desperate as men could well be. I must, however, admit here that anything like the patience and pluck of my companion under such trying circumstances I had never in my life met with before. Not once did he reproach me in the least degree for my share in the wretched business, but took everything just as it came, without unnecessary comment and certainly without complaint.

One fact had repeatedly struck me as significant, and that was the circumstance that every morning between six and half-past, as already narrated, the same cripple went down the street; and