The Doomsman by Van Tassel Sutphen (books to get back into reading .txt) 📕

"It is difficult to think of Master Quinton Edge in the light of a disinterested adviser. Perhaps you have other motives."[Pg 104]

"Possibly," returned the man, with calm assurance. "Why not a dozen of them? But to disclose them—this is not the time. You have only to accept my offer and be thankful."

"Suppose that I refuse?"

Quinton Edge glanced over his shoulder, and the three men who had been standing motionless in the shadow of the doorway took a step forward.

"You perceive that there is no such alternative," he said, suavely.

The girl started but kept herself in hand. "My sister goes with me?"

"No," said Quinton Edge.

But Nanna's arms were already encircling her treasure. She had entered unobserved, and she had heard enough to understand. "You!" she said, and spat at Quinton Edge.

The man's face paled. He stepped forward as though making to push the intruder away. In a flash she had turned upon him and her teeth closed upon the fleshy part of his right hand. He shook her off as one does a snake.

"A true forest-cat," said Quinton Edge, and smiled as he twisted a fine lawn handkerchief about the wounded member. Then, with entire good-humor: "I apologize for my incivility and truth; it were a biting rejoinder. Madam, you, too, are welcome to my poor house. With such a dragon in the garden, he will be a brave man indeed who thinks to filch my apples."

Nanna, huddled up in a corner of the room whither she had been flung, answered not a word, but watched him steadily, unwinkingly, her eyes narrowed to two[Pg 105] gleaming slits. Esmay went over and assisted her to her feet.

"You will give us time to get a few things together," said the girl, turning to Quinton Edge. "A woman cannot be moved about like a piece of furniture."

"Ten minutes."

It were waste of breath to renew the argument, and within the quarter of an hour the two women, closely shawled and veiled, descended the steps to the street. It was still storming. A coach drawn by two horses was waiting at the curb, and the Doomsman, having assisted his unwilling guests to mount within, took his place on the box with the driver, the three men following on horseback. The little company moved slowly down the avenue; then, turning into a side thoroughfare, proceeded directly eastward.[Pg 106]

For the first few days following upon his arrival in the city, Constans kept under rover, venturing forth only after nightfall. He wanted to make sure of all his bearings before taking any long step in advance, and the extent and strength of the enemy's defences particularly interested him. Fortunately for his purpose the weather was growing colder every day, autumn having given place to winter much earlier than usual, and on these chilly nights the Doomsmen were not inclined to wander far abroad. By keeping closely to the side streets he ran but little risk of discovery through a chance encounter; at the same time he must get inside the danger zone if he hoped to obtain any information of value.

Constans found the solution of his problem by betaking himself to the house-tops. Through the aid of a rope, furnished with cross-pieces inserted in the strands at regular intervals and a grappling-hook at the free end, he could pass easily from roof to roof of contiguous buildings, and so gain points of observation that otherwise he would never have dared to approach.

One of these aërial routes led from the side avenue on the east to a moderate-sized building situated[Pg 107] on the Citadel Square and directly overlooking the fortress. Twice now he had ventured to spend the whole of a day lying perdue in this convenient eyrie, his binoculars in constant use, and what he saw and learned increased his thoughtfulness, although he would not let it shake his resolution.

So far as he could judge, the Doomsmen could not be regarded as formidable through mere weight of numbers. Their available fighting force Constans estimated at two hundred, which would indicate a total population of a round thousand. Now Croye alone was a city of full fifteen hundred inhabitants, and the census of the West Inch should show twice that number. In an open field, and man to man, the House-dwellers were much more than a match for Dom Gillian's wolves.

On the other hand, the Doomsmen were all trained warriors, and to smoke them out of their own nest—one would have to think twice about that. Here was a half-ruined city, several square miles in actual area, and surrounded by unfordable tidal rivers. Deep at its heart was the citadel, strongly built and abundantly supplied with water and provisions. Under these circumstances it was a simple matter for a small force to maintain itself indefinitely; it would necessitate the employment of an attacking army four or five times as large as the defence to even up the chances. This, of course, on the presumption that both sides were armed alike. Constans's thoughts reverted to the fire artillery of the ancients; with that at his disposal he would hold the balance of power. The possession of a single score of rifles should enable him to demonstrate the feasibility of the attempt to[Pg 108] his sluggard kinsmen, the Stockaders, and to the even more reluctant townsmen. He determined to take the first opportunity to make a careful search of the city armories and ammunition depots; in the mean time, it was his business to acquaint himself as thoroughly as possible with the material situation.

The stronghold of the Doomsmen occupied the middle section of the ancient city square. In shape it was an irregular oblong, the original builders being apparently content to enclose sufficient space without reference to architectural symmetry. Its perimeter might be roughly estimated at eight hundred yards, respectable proportions, and indicating a capacity to comfortably accommodate the whole population of Doom should the necessity arise.

The barricade was constructed of stone, principally paving-blocks torn up from the adjoining streets, and since the material was unlimited in quantity the walls were of massive proportions, sixteen feet in height and nearly six feet in thickness at the bottom course. At the several corners stood towers elevated some ten feet above the wall veil and properly loop-holed. Under the east and south walls and virtually built into them were a series of huts, which served as storehouses and for living quarters in time of siege. At present these huts—low, uncomfortable-looking structures of stone and roofed with broad, flat flags—were untenanted save for the two or three used by the small garrison on duty. The western side of the enclosure was occupied almost entirely by storehouses for grain and other provisions; here, too, were pens for cattle on the hoof and immense cisterns for the storage of drinking-water. Somewhat to the south of[Pg 109] the centre of the square stood what appeared to be the administration building, a round, tower-like structure, three stories in height and with enormously thick walls. One could fancy it the scene of a last stand in a lost cause.

Directly opposite, in the north wall, was the gateway. It opened on to the Palace Road, one of the principal avenues of the ancient city, and was in the form of a vaulted passageway defended by flanking towers and superimposed battlements. A notable stronghold was this citadel of the Doomsmen, wisely planned and well built, and Constans could hardly fall into the error of under-estimating its resources. For all that, he would not acknowledge that it was impregnable; stone walls cannot stand forever against stout hearts.

Day by day went on and Constans kept adding steadily to his stock of information. Most important of all, he had succeeded in definitely locating the several positions of the enemy. It appeared that the district actually inhabited by the Doomsmen included only the fortified square and a few of the city blocks contiguous to it on the north. The distance from the citadel to the library building and Dom Gillian's house was about a mile, and it was some five miles further to the tidal estuary which formed the northern boundary of the city proper. Of the various structures that had formerly spanned the stream, but one, the High Bridge, remained. Built of massive masonry, it had wonderfully resisted the disintegrating processes of time, and stood to-day, immovable as the granite hills of which it formed the connecting link. Being the sole means of landward approach to Doom, it was[Pg 110] guarded carefully, and a detail from the general garrison was at all times on duty there.

The final conclusion to which Constans arrived was that he had only to avoid the immediate neighborhood of the Palace Road and the Citadel Square to pursue his investigations with entire safety. Accordingly he grew venturesome, and began to go out-of-doors at all hours of the day or night. And then on the fourteenth day after his arrival in the city his immunity came abruptly to an end.

It was early in the forenoon, and Constans was exploring a quarter of the city that lay to the northeast of the Citadel Square. He became interested in the curious, bridgelike structure which spanned the street; enough of it remained standing to show him that it had been designed for overhead traffic, a highway in the air. There were the rails, the signal-boxes, and other mysterious adjuncts of the ancient railways; he had read about them in his books and he recognized them at once.

Now this particular section of the aërial railway must have been a branch line, for it ended abruptly in front of a building of unusual size and consequent importance. Beyond this again could be seen a surface net-work of iron rails converging to the black mouth of a great tunnel—a highway under the earth. Constans felt a lively impulse to push his explorations further. This was evidently a terminal station of the wonderful steel roads of the ancients; within the building itself he might reasonably expect to find some of the old-time engines and wagons with which the traffic had been carried on.

Passing through a central hall of fine proportions,[Pg 111] Constans found himself standing under an immense arched structure of stone and iron and glass. The ancient car-shed, so Constans conjectured; then he paused excitedly before a long platform, at which stood a complete train, made up and ready to start.

Constans examined this new find with critical attention. The enormous locomotive-engine, with its driving-wheels that stood higher than a man's head, impressed him mightily, for all that the monster's burning heart had grown cold and its stentor breathing had been hushed forever. He climbed into the cab and wondered hugely at the multiplicity of stopcocks and levers and cabalistically lettered dials. It seemed incredible that the giant could have moved even his own weight, and yet there was his appointed task strung out behind him, fifteen long and heavy vehicles—it was amazing!

Behind the engine came the cars for luggage, piled high with bags and boxes, and then the regular train equipment, a long line of coaches. These last were of the most luxurious pattern—that was plain to see, although the varnish had blistered on the panels and the silken curtains at the windows hung in tatters. The last car of all had clearly been in service as an eating apartment, and fortunately the doors of this coach had been left closed and the windows remained intact. Constans entered and looked about him, noting that the tables still bore their weight of plate and china and napery. Most moving of all was the little nosegay that stood in a tall glass at each cover. But even as he gazed, delighted that the flowers still retained recognizable shape, they broke and crumbled into nothingness.[Pg 112]

It was difficult to understand why the train should have been abandoned, it being evident that it had stood here, ready for immediate departure, but the unquestionable fact may serve to emphasize again the suddenness of the final catastrophe. People had simply dropped and forgotten everything. In the extremity of terror civilized man had become a savage, reverting to primeval instincts in preferring his legs to any other means of escape. There was but one thing left for him—to run away.

It was a depressing experience to be standing solitary and alone under these vast arches that had echoed to the tramp of feet innumerable. A sense of his loneliness pressed heavily upon Constans; then, suddenly, he became aware of the presence of a man, who stood leaning against a pillar a short distance away and watched him from under close-knit brows.

The fair hair and frank, kindly face seemed dimly familiar to Constans; and what thighs and breadth of shoulder! The stranger stood little