The Vast Abyss

For the sound he heard was the rap of the top of the ladder against the little gallery rails; and as he crept out and into the little wooden construction, he felt for and touched the end of the ladder, which was quivering as if some one was going down.

There was no dizziness in Tom’s brain now. The enemy was just below and escaping.

Passing one leg over the rail, Tom planted a foot safely as he held on, then the other, and began to descend as rapidly as he could, feeling the ladder quiver more and more, and then hearing as he was half-way down a whisper. Then he felt a jerk, one side of the slight implement was wrenched over sidewise, and the top glided from the gallery. The next moment he was falling as he clung, and before he had time to think, he and the ladder came to the ground with a crash.

Chapter Forty One

Tom was some ten feet or so from the ground when he described an arc in the darkness, so that it was not a very serious fall, but bad enough to knock the sense out of him for a moment or two, and the worse from its coming so closely upon his bumping down the upper steps. Consequently he lay quite still with the ladder upon him for a while, with a dim idea that he could hear whispering, scrambling, and then the patter of steps somewhere not far away.

Those footsteps were still to be heard when the boy thrust the ladder over, rose very slowly to a sitting position, and tried to look round him, seeing more stars than he had when he knelt at his bedroom window, these too having a peculiar circling motion of their own, which made his head ache violently.

“He’s got the best of me again,” said the boy rather piteously, “for it’s no good to go after him now.”

Tom had the organ of order sufficiently developed to make him wish to pick up and return the ladder instead of leaving it lying in the yard; but he felt shaken up, and the feeling of confusion came upon him again so strongly that he stood thinking for a few minutes, and then went and unlocked the gate, listened a while, and then locked it after him and crossed the lane into the garden.

The next minute he was under his bedroom window, feeling unwilling to climb up, for he was getting cold and stiff; but he dragged himself on to the sill, got in, and without stopping to undress, threw himself on the bed and fell into a sound sleep, in which he dreamed that two policemen came down from London with the big black prison van and carried off Pete Warboys, who was taken to the Old Bailey to be tried for stealing the round wooden dome-shaped structure which formed the top of the mill.

He was awakened next morning soon after six by the pattering at his window of some scraps of fine gravel, and jumping off the bed he found David below on the lawn.

“Here, look sharp and come down, Master Tom,” cried the gardener excitedly.

“What’s the matter?” said Tom, whose mind was rather blank as to the past night’s business.

“Some ’un’s been in the night and stole the tallowscoop.”

“Nonsense!”

“But they have, sir. It’s as fact as fack. There’s the top wooden window open, and Jellard’s long fruit-ladder lying in the yard.”

Tom hurried down at once, to find the ladder just as he had left it; and on entering the mill, closely followed by David, he looked round for traces of the burglarious work that must have been done.

But all was in its ordinary state in the workshop, and after a sharp investigation, Tom was on his way to the steps, when David looked at him in a half-injured way as if disappointed.

“What, arn’t nothing stole here, sir?”

“No; everything seems to be right,” replied Tom.

“Well, I should ha’ thought they’d ha’ took the spacklums or something while they was about it.”

But matters wore a different aspect upon the laboratory being reached. On the whole the place looked undisturbed, save that a rug or two had been kicked up, and a chair tilted over against the wall; but at the second glance Tom felt a thrill, for there facing him was the old walnut bureau, with its drawers open, and the contents tumbled over and over, the small top drawer to the right especially taking Tom’s attention, for it hung nearly out and was perfectly empty.

There had not been much in it, only a few papers, but one was the large cartridge paper envelope, which contained the documents given to him by his uncle when that strange visit was paid. These had evidently gone; what else had been taken it was impossible to say.

“They’ve been at it here, Master Tom, haven’t they?”

“I’m afraid so, David.”

“Then hadn’t I better go and fetch the policeman directly, sir?”

“No,” said Tom decisively. “We must wait till uncle comes back, and see what he says.”

“But they’ll get right away, sir, ’fore he comes back.”

“I’m afraid whoever it was has got right away, David,” said Tom; and he told his companion as much of the events of the past night as he thought necessary.

“Oh, why didn’t you come and call me up, Master Tom?” cried the gardener reproachfully. “If I’d been there we could ha’ captivated ’em, for there must ha’ been two. That there ladder couldn’t ha’ lifted itself up again, and stood ready for the one inside to get down.”

“Yes, there must have been two,” said Tom thoughtfully.

“You should ha’ comed and called me, sir – you should indeed. I’ve got as much right to take care o’ master’s property when he’s out as you have.”

“I never thought of it, David.”

“It’s on’y three ’undered and forty-nine yards and a half to my cottage, sir. You might have thought o’ me.”

“I only wish I had,” said Tom warmly. “I should have been so glad to have you.”

“Well, sir, there’s something in that,” said David, but only to repeat himself in a reproachful tone – “It was on’y three ’undered and forty-nine yards, and what’s that to a young gent like you.”

“It can’t be helped now, David. Let’s go up-stairs.”

Tom felt stiffer as he went up the step-ladder, and the whole business of the struggle in the dark came back as they stood in the observatory, where all seemed to be correct, save an overturned stool, and the position of the telescope in the middle changed.

“What’s gone from here, sir?” asked David.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Oh, but they must have took something else, sir.”

“Perhaps so, but I cannot see what.”

“Then that’s because you disturbed ’em, sir. They was ramshacking your uncle’s desk thing when you come. Tend upon it that was it. Oh, I do wish I’d been there just at the bottom of the ladder ready to nab ’em as they come down. Say, Master Tom – think your uncle kep’ his money in that there old chest-o’-drawers thing?”

“I think he used to keep a little bag of change there,” replied Tom thoughtfully; and it seemed more probable that the thieves were after that than in search of papers, which could have been of no earthly use to them, though the drawer was nearly empty all the same.

“You did get hold o’ one of ’em, sir?” said David, after a pause.

“Oh, yes, more than once.”

“And he felt like that there Pete Warboys, didn’t he?”

“Yes – no – I don’t know,” said Tom confusedly; and David scratched his head.

“That’s like asking a man a riddle, sir,” he said. “Can’t make much o’ that.”

“Well, what can I say, David?” cried Tom impatiently. “It was pitch dark, and I was thinking of nothing else but catching him. I could see nothing but the dim-looking windows.”

“But you felt him, sir.”