Chapter 23. Just In Time

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. JUST IN TIME

All at once Dummy Rugg uttered a peculiar snort, and started up in a sitting position, with the thought still fresh in his brain that he must rouse up Mark from his nap.

But all was dark, and there was the gurgling rush of the water below. "Why, I've been asleep," muttered the lad excitedly. "Think o' me doing that!"

He rose quickly, and felt for the crack in which he had stuck the candles, narrowly escaping a plunge into the little pool from which he had drunk.

He found the spot where the candles had been, both of them; he could feel it by the size, and knew it by the shape, for it grew smaller at each extremity, so that he had been able to wedge the ends of the candles tight.

Yes: there was no doubt about it. Both candles, as if to be in fashion with the stony drippings of the cavern, had run down a little, to form tiny stalagmites of grease.

"Burnt right out," muttered Dummy, still more excitedly. "Why, I may ha' been asleep for hours."

Thrusting his hand into his breast, there was a faint rattle as he drew out tinder-box and match, and then felt for a candle in the box he had carried slung by a strap from the shoulder, and laid it ready.

The next minute he was nicking a piece of flint against the steel, striking sparks down into the box, and at the second sharp click Mark started awake.

"Yes! What is it?" he cried--"Where am I?"

"On'y here, Master Mark," replied the boy. "Candle's gone out."

"Why, Dummy! Have we been to sleep?"

"I s'pose so, Master Mark. Po-o-o-o-f-f-uf! There we are!"

He had obtained a light, the match burning up brightly, and then the candle, after the fluffy wick had been burnt and blown.

"How tiresome! I don't know, though. I feel rested."

"Being up all last night, I s'pose," said Dummy, as he stuck the candle in the crack.

"Yes, of course; that's it. Think we've been asleep long?"

"I dunno. Fear'd so."

"Let's go back, then, at once," said Mark, springing to his feet. "Why, we may have been asleep for hours. Light another candle, and let's get back."

"Right, Master Mark. Well, it don't much matter, for we hadn't nothing to do."

The second candle was lit, and stuck in the rough wooden carrying-stick, the other was taken from the crack in the stone and treated the same.

"Won't go no furrer, then, Master Mark?" said the boy.

"No, not to-day," said Mark decisively, as he looked round the chamber, and then stooped to take a draught of the clear water, an example Dummy followed.

"Ready, Master Mark?"

"Yes, lead on. But which way?"

"Don't you know, sir?" said Dummy grinning.

"Haven't the least idea. Have you?"

"Yes, sir. This way. I know."

"But are you sure you are right?"

"Ay, this is right."

"Then you have been there before?"

"Nay, never; but I can feel that's right," and he pointed in the opposite direction to that which Mark felt they ought to take.

"Forward, then, and let's get out as quick as we can."

"Yes, but it'll take some time;" and the boy led on.

"Why, Dummy," cried Mark, suddenly, "we must have slept for hours and hours."

"How do you know, sir?"

"Why, I can feel."

"In your head, like, sir?" said Dummy eagerly.

"Head? No: somewhere else," cried Mark, laughing. "I am half-starved."

A good three hours must have elapsed before, after a weary climb and tramp, and when the last candle had been lit, the two lads emerged from behind the stony veil into the grotto-like place that had deceived Mark Eden.

"Don't matter about candles now, Master Mark," said Dummy; "I could find my way out ready enough by touching the wall with one hand."

"Well, make haste and let's get out; I don't want to be in fresh trouble through stopping so long. I believe it's supper-time."

"Yes, Master Mark," replied the boy, "and so do I."

They had still a long way to go, but once past the veil of stalactite, they began to enter the workings with the passages and chambers possessing fairly level floors, made for the convenience of transporting the ore to the mouth of the mine. The walking then became comparatively easy, but Mark's weariness was on the increase, and there were moments when the faint glow of light which spread around Dummy, as he walked in front, grew misty and strange, playing fantastic tricks to the observer's eye: now it seemed close to him; now it and the black silhouette it formed of the bearer's body appeared to be far-off, and to die away in the distance, but only to return again with a sudden jerk, as Mark started and tried to step out more firmly.

At these moments, his own candle having burned out, Mark watched the shadow of his companion dancing about, now on the floor, now on the ceiling or on either side, looking grotesque and goblin-like for a few moments, and then dying out again and causing the lad to start, as he felt in a dreamy way that he was being left behind, though on recovering his fleeting senses it was only to find that Dummy was almost within touch.

This had been going on for some time, when Mark spoke:

"I say, don't go right away and leave me, Dummy."

"Who's a-going to?" said the boy, looking round in surprise.

"I know you wouldn't on purpose, but keep looking round. I can't keep awake. My legs do, but all the rest goes to sleep, and I begin getting in a muddle."

"Oh, we shall soon be out now," said the boy laughing.

"Soon be out! I never knew the place was so big before. Keep looking back to see that I don't drop down fast asleep."

"I'd make you go first," said Dummy, "but you don't know the way."

"No: keep on as you are, and make haste."

"Can't: must go steady, because of the candle."

"Oh dear!" sighed Mark. "I am so sleepy, and it's beginning to get down below my belt, to where my leg was hurt."

"No, no, don't you think that," cried Dummy. "Let's keep on talking."

"Yes," said Mark, jumping at the proposal. "Let's keep talking--Who are you laughing at?"

"You, Master Mark. You are sleepy. 'Tarn't far, now. Fresh air'll soon rouse you."

There was no reply, and as the boy glanced back he could see that his companion was beginning to reel about like a drunken man, and that his eyes had a peculiar dull, fixed look.

The next minute the lids drooped, and he walked on as if that which he had said was quite true--that all was fast asleep but the legs, which went on automatically, and supported their load.

"With a fal, lal-lal, lal-lalla, lalla, la!" yelled Dummy, not unmusically; and it had its effect, for Mark sprang at him, and caught him by the shoulder.

"What was that?" he cried excitedly.

"On'y me singing, Master Mark. Soon be out now."

"That's what you keep on saying," cried the lad, pettishly. "I don't believe we're going right. You've taken a wrong turning by mistake. Here, I can't go any farther, Dummy. I must lie down and go to sleep again. It's horrible to keep on like this. I know I shall fall."

"You do, and I'll stick a pin in you," said the boy roughly.

"What!"

"I'm not going to have you fall asleep again. Come, rouse up, Master Mark; I'm ashamed of you. For two pins I'd hit you over the head."

"What!" cried Mark, in an access of passion; "why, you ugly big-headed mole, how dare you speak to me like that?"

"'Cause I like," cried Dummy sharply. "Talking of going to deep, like a great gal. Yah! Gen'lemen aren't no use. Never do have no legs."

"You insolent dog!" roared Mark, leaping at him, and striking the boy twice heavily on the back, with the result that the one candle was jerked out of the stick he carried, to fly forward on to the floor, flicker for a moment or two, and then, before it could be seized, go out, and with it Mark's bit of passion.

"Oh!" he cried, as he stood fast in the darkness.

"There, you've done it now," cried Dummy, in mock tones of horror.

"Yes, be quick; get out the flint and steel."

"What for?"

"To get a light."

"For you to begin knocking me about again."

"No, no, Dummy; I won't touch you again. It was your fault: you made me so cross."

"All right, Master Mark," said the boy, with a good-humoured laugh. "I only did it o' purpose to wake you up, and it has. I don't mind what you did. Don't feel sleepy now, do you?"

"No, no, I'm quite awake. The drowsy feeling has gone off. Come, light the candle."

"Shan't now," replied Dummy. "We're only a little way off now, and I can manage."

"But are you sure?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure enough, Master Mark. Wait a minute."

"Yes. What are you going to do?"

"Only unloose a few rings of this line we brought."

"What for? If you play me any tricks now we're in the dark, I'll--"

"Who's going to play any tricks?" grumbled the boy. "Men don't play tricks. Here, kitch holt: now you can follow me, and feel me, if you keep the rope tight, and won't go hitting yourself again the wall."

Mark grasped the end of the rope handed to him, and they started forward in the intense blackness, the novelty and sense of shrinking soon passing off, and the lad feeling more and more confidence in his leader.

"Don't feel a bit sleepy now, do you?" asked Dummy.

"Not in the least. I say, are you sure that you can go on without taking a wrong turning?"

"Oh yes, I'm right enough, Master Mark."

"How far is it now?"

"On'y 'bout fifty fathom or so. We're just getting to the rise."

"Then we--no, you're wrong. We can't be. Why, if we were so near the mouth we should see daylight."

"What! in the middle o' the night? Not you."

"What! You don't think it's so late as that?"

"Yes, I do. It's past twelve o'clock, if it's a minute."

"Then we must have slept a very long time below there."

"Hours upon hours," said Dummy, chuckling.

"Hark! What's that?" said Mark excitedly.

"Shouting," said the boy, after listening. "My! they are making a row about it. They're coming to fetch us, because we've been so long."

The two lads were still making for the mouth of the mine, and were now ascending the rough steps, to pause by the stone shed inside the entrance, where tools, gunpowder for blasting, and several kinds of tackle were kept, in among the candles and torches.

"Here, Dummy," cried Mark excitedly, as the noise outside and above them increased, "what does this mean? They're fighting!"

"Fighting?" cried the boy excitedly.

"Yes, what can it mean?"

"Mean, Master Mark? I can tell you. It's the Darleys come at last to take our place. Oh, why didn't I kill young Ralph that night when I followed him home through the wood?"

"You did what?"

"Followed him. I wasn't sure he'd been trying to kill you, or I would."

"Come along, and don't talk," whispered Mark excitedly. "Ah! I have no sword."

"Got a pick in your belt, and so have I."

"You'll stand by me, Dummy?"

"Won't I, Master Mark! I want to get a hit at some of 'em. You won't stop me, will you, to-night?"

"If they've come and attacked us, no. Hush, quiet! Let's steal out first, and see."

The night was very dark as they left the mouth of the mine, but after their late experience it seemed to both to be comparatively light, and with Mark now armed with the miner's pick, which he felt would be a good substitute for a battle-axe, they hurried up the steps, with the noise above increasing, but seeming to be over on the other side of the little castle. A minute or two later they had reached the platform which led to their right over the narrow natural bridge, to the left, through the gateway into the first courtyard. This was empty, and they ran lightly across it, to find that the encounter was going on beyond the second gateway, which led into the little inner courtyard, surrounded by the dwelling-house portion of the castle. Both gateways were furnished with means of defence, the outer having an iron grille of heavy crossed bars, while the second had folding doors of massive oak, with a wicket for ordinary use in the lower part of one of the folds. But in spite of the enmity between the two families, little heed had of late been given to the defences. Sir Edward had considered that the outer gate at the end of the natural bridge was sufficient, as there was so little likelihood of an attack without warning; and, as far as Mark could make out, it seemed that under cover of the darkness the enemy had crossed the bridge and forced the gate under the little towers, when the rest would be easy for them. They had only had to pass through the first courtyard, and were now in the lesser or inner court, evidently trying to batter down the entrance door into the hall.

They must have begun their work before Sir Edward and his people were alarmed; but how long before it was impossible to tell. What met the eyes of the two lads now was an armed group trying to batter in the great door by means of a beam they had brought up into the yard, while others, armed with pikes, guarded their companions, upon whom missiles of all kinds were being dashed down from above, and thrusts were being made with other pikes from the windows which flanked or overhung the door.

"The Darleys," whispered Dummy, as they peered together round the inner corner of the gateway dividing the two courts.

"In with it, boys!" roared a hoarse voice; and they dimly made out a heavy figure standing in the shelter of the wall.

"Captain Purlrose and his gang," whispered back Mark huskily. "I wonder how many men my father has in there."

"They were going over to Dexham for a holiday, all but them as was hurt," whispered Dummy. "Come on and help, or the robbers'll get in."

A pang shot through Mark, and he grasped the handle of his pick firmly, ready for a dash, but the feeling that it would be utter madness kept him back. For he knew that even if he could strike down two of the attacking party, they must succumb to the others, and they would have done no good.

It was all plain enough. Purlrose must have gained the information that the mine people were away, and that Sir Edward would be almost without defenders, and, out of revenge for the previous night's attack, have seized the opportunity for a reprisal.

"Why, Dummy," he whispered, with his lips close to the other's ear, "if they take the castle, they'll keep it, and turn us out."

"Yes, and grab the mine," said the boy hoarsely. "Well, we mustn't let 'em."

_Bang_, _bang_, came the reports of a couple of arquebuses from one of the windows, but no harm was done, and the men answered with a derisive cheer and continued their battering of the door, which still resisted their efforts.

Another shot was fired, but still without effect, and Mark ground his teeth together as he felt the impotency of his father's efforts now that the enemy had stolen in beyond the gates that would have been admirable for defence.

"Well, aren't you going to do something, Master Mark?"

"What can I do, Dummy?" cried the lad, in despair. "We might shut these gates, and defend them."

"Yes, so we could; but what's the good?"

Just then there was a quick flash and a sharp roar close to the doorway, and in the bright light the lads saw the men drop the beam and run back; but no one was hurt, and in answer to a roar of orders from their leader, the enemy seized the beam again and began to drive it against the centre of the great door.

"Running away from that," roared Purlrose; "handful of powder rolled up in a bag and thrown at you! Down with it! they've got no more."

"Yes, they have," whispered Dummy, excitedly. "Here, Master Mark, quick!"

Mark grasped the idea, without explanation, and ran back with his companion, leaving the shouting, cursing, and firing behind, to descend with him to the mouth of the mine, and then downward to the big stone shed, where Dummy tore open the great oaken closet, and drew out a bag of the coarse blasting-powder used in the mine.

"Feel in that box, Master Mark; that's it. You know. The fuse cord."

Mark had a roll of loose twisted hemp soaked in saltpetre and powder out of the box directly, and armed with a powder-bag each, they hurried trembling back, to reach the gateway, peer round the corner, and see that the attack was going on as fiercely as ever, while the defence was very weak, and they knew that before long the door must yield. In fact, amidst a burst of cheers, a hole had been already driven through, to be made use of by the defenders for sending thrusts out with their pikes.

"Up with you," whispered Mark, and the two lads hurried up a little winding staircase on to the top of the inner gate-tower, from whence they could go along one side of the little yard, hidden by the crenellated battlement, till they were about five-and-twenty feet from where the men were carrying on their attack.

"Light it, and chuck it among 'em," whispered Dummy, but he proceeded with system. "Put t'other inside the doorway," he whispered. "Don't want that to go off too."

Mark obeyed, and returned unseen by those below, or the party defending the hall-door, to find that his companion, used to seeing such things done, had cut a little hole in the side of the powder-bag, inserted a piece of the fuse, and thrust the rest in his pocket.

"Here, you hold the end of the string up," whispered Dummy; and there was a rattling noise, as he took out the flint and steel he was carrying.

A cold chill ran through Mark.

"Mind," he whispered; "you'll blow us to pieces."

"Nay, I won't," said the lad, between his teeth. "You hold the thing in your hands; open it out a bit. I won't send no sparks nigh the powder. Aren't afeared, are you?"

"No," said Mark, setting his teeth; and stooping down, he screened the bag by passing the fuse between his knees, holding the frayed-out end ready while Dummy made a low clicking noise, and cleverly sent a shower of sparks down upon the prepared hemp.

It caught directly, and began to sparkle and sputter, Mark holding it firmly, but feeling as if he were the victim of some horrible nightmare dream.

"That's the way," said Dummy, coolly replacing the flint and steel. "It won't go off yet. I want it to burn till it's nearly ready, and then heave it down right amongst 'em. Make some on 'em squint."

"Throw it--throw it," panted Mark hoarsely.

"Nay, not yet. They'd see it burning, and tread it out. Here, you let me have it. I'll hold it to the last minute, and when I throw, you duck yourself down, or you might get burnt."

Dummy took hold of the burning cord with his left hand, the bag with his right, pressing his companion out of the road, and then standing twitching the sparkling fuse, which was only a few inches away from the powder in the bag.

"I've often seen it done," he whispered.

A shout came up from the little court, for the followers of Captain Purlrose had again driven their battering ram through the great door, and a shout of defiance came back from the hall from a few voices, among which Mark recognised his father's; but he could not turn from that sparkling piece of line to glance over the stony battlement to see what was being done. His eyes were fascinated, and nothing could have withdrawn them then.

He had proved again and again that he was no coward, but a great terror chained him now, and his voice trembled as he panted out:

"Quick--quick; throw--throw!"

"Nay, not yet. I'm watching of it. Father always waits till there's on'y about an inch, to make sure it'll go off."

There was not much more as he spoke, and just then, in obedience to an order from their captain, the men drew back from the doorway, balancing the beam swung between them, as, four on each side now, it hung from their hands, and backing till they were past the spot where the pair were crouching.

"Now, all together, my brave boys," cried Purlrose; "a good run, and down goes the door. Off!"

The order answered for Dummy as well as the men, and feeling now that he had waited too long, the boy swung the bag over the battlement. The passage through the air increased the sparkling of the fuse, and before it touched the pavement, a few feet in front of the men starting for their run, there was a wondrous flash of light, a fierce wind drove the two lads backward, and then came a deafening roar, mingled with the breaking of glass, a yell of horror, and as the roof still quivered beneath the lads' feet they heard the rush of men through the gateway, across the next court, and through the outer opening on to the bridge, and then down the first slope.

"Come on!" cried Dummy, running to the low doorway of the gate-tower, where he picked up the other powder-bag, and, hardly knowing what he did, Mark followed him down the winding stair into the gateway.

"Come on!" cried Dummy again, and Mark still followed, across the outer court and the first gateway, grasping the pick from his belt, feeling that they were about to charge the rear of the flying enemy.

"Come on," shouted Dummy, for the third time, and they crossed the narrow space, which brought them to the little tower and gateway by the natural bridge, where, as Mark closed up, he could hear the babble and growl of voices from the bottom of the first slope.

"Shied it too soon," growled the boy. "I don't believe it's killed one."

"They're coming back, Dummy," cried Mark, "and the gate's broken away from the hinges."

"Then they shall have it this time," cried the lad, and cutting a hole with his knife in one corner of the powder-bag, he held it down at one side behind the massive wall of the little tower, and striding his legs, walked slowly forward till he reached the middle of the bridge, where he plumped the powder-bag down, after leaving a little train of the black grains behind him where he walked.

Then carefully avoiding it, he stepped quickly back to where Mark was standing, and took out and handed him the flint and steel.

"You do it this time," he said. "We shall be in shelter here. I'll watch and say when."

Mark took the rough implements, and knelt down by the commencement of the train.

"Hold it close down, quite steady, and give one good nick, and it will set the powder off."

"Come on, you cowardly dogs," cried a now familiar voice. "There's everything that's good in there, and the place will be ours, I tell you. What, going to be scared by a puff of smoke? The place is our own now. All here?"

"Ay," came in a growl.

"Form in good order, three abreast, and charge right across and into the yard. Halt! Steady! To think of running for a flash in the pan!"

"You ran too," growled a voice.

"You won't be happy till you're strung up, Hez Bingham," cried the captain. "Now then: swords. Steady! Forward!"

"Now!" whispered Dummy; and as the men tramped on to the bridge for their renewed attack, Mark struck the steel with his flint, and a tiny spark or two fell.

"Quick--another!" whispered Dummy, and the men halted in the middle of the bridge.

"Forward!" shouted the captain from the rear; "what are you halting for?"

"What's this here?" growled one of the men in the first line, for he had caught sight of the powder-bag lying in the middle of the pathway, his question taking off his comrades' attention from the two sharp clicks which came from behind the lesser gateway.

But they saw a little line of light and smoke running over the stone paving of the bridge, and with a yell of horror, they turned and fled hurriedly back and down the slope.

"Don't look!" yelled Dummy, forcing Mark aside, when the flash brought the castle and summit of the Black Tor into full view; then there was an awful muffled roar, which went echoing away, and as it died out, the two lads dashed across the bridge to the head of the zigzag descent, to make out by hearing that the enemy were in full retreat.

"I think that settled 'em," said Dummy quietly. "You did it fine, Master Mark."

"Hoi! Who's there?" cried a voice behind them.

"Dummy Rugg, father."

"And you, my boy? Thank Heaven! I was afraid something was wrong."

"Then it was you two with my powder," cried another voice out of the darkness.

"Yes, Dan Rugg, and a splendid use they made of it," cried Sir Edward. "Well done, my lads. But come into shelter; they surprised us, with everything left open. We must lock the stable door now. Think they'll come again, Rugg?"

"Nay, Sir Edward; not to-night. Those explosions will bring our lads up to see what's the matter."

"Well, secure the gates as we go in."

Dan Rugg was right. Within half-an-hour a dozen men had come up and been admitted, ready to meet the enemy should he return, but the silence up at the Black Tor was not disturbed again that night.

"Out of revenge for you boys' attack," said Sir Edward, when he had heard his son's account of their proceedings in the mine, and Dummy's clever thought about the powder. "It might have meant the loss of this place. But there must be an end to it now. You lads were so handy with the powder-bags that you shall try your hands upon that wasps' nest, for I can't rest now till I've had it well burnt out. Pity more powder was not used this time. I don't believe they were more than singed, and half my windows were smashed."

"But if we had used more powder, father," said Mark, smiling, "we might have knocked down the place." _

Read next: Chapter 24. An Enemy In Distress

Read previous: Chapter 22. A Cure For The Headache

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