The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First by George Manville Fenn (classic romance novels .TXT) 📕

and darkening the shadows, till all were armed with a blazing light in their left hands, and sword or pike in their right, while between the two parties the mouth of the cave lay dark and forbidding, but silent as the grave.

“Ready?” whispered Ralph.

“Ready!” came from Mark.

“Then forward!” cried the former, and, sword in hand, the two lads stepped from right and left on to the platform, their shadows sent first into the dark rift; while the Ruggs crowded after Mark, and Nick Garth and Ram Jennings shouldered them in their effort to keep their places close behind Ralph.

“Hang the link!” cried Mark suddenly. “Here, Darley, do as I do.”

He threw his flaming torch right forward into the cave as far as it would go, and it struck against the wall and dropped some dozen yards in, and lay burning and lighting up the rugged passage.

“I’ll keep mine till we get past yours,” said Ralph in a hoarse whisper; and the lads pressed in, side by side, to find that the link was burning at an abrupt corner, the passage turning sharply to the right.

Mark stopped and picked up his link, but before he could throw it again, Ralph stepped before him over the rugged floor and hurled his light, to see it fall right ahead, after also striking against the wall.

“Zigzags,” said Mark in a sharp whisper. “Here, mind what you’re doing with those pikes.”

“All right,” was growled, but the men who held the weapons did not withdraw them, two sharp points being thrust right forward, so as to protect the two leaders, the holders being Dan Rugg and Nick Garth. Both Mark and Ralph objected to this again, but it was no time for hesitation. At any moment they might be attacked, and they were all wondering that they had heard nothing of the enemy, all being singularly still, save a low murmuring sound as of falling water at a distance.

“They must be all out,” said Mark in a low voice. “Gone on some raid. Well, we shall catch them when they come back.”

Chirp!

“Who did that?” said Ralph quickly, at the sound of a steel weapon striking against the rock.

But no one answered; and as they advanced slowly, and Mark stooped to pick up his burning link once more where it lay against the corner of the natural passage, Ralph seized the opportunity to change his sword to his left hand, and swing his round the corner out of sight.

They heard it fall, and the glow struck against the wall to their left, lighting up the passage beyond the corner.

“Take care, Master Mark,” whispered Dan Rugg.

“Ay, and you too, Master Ralph,” whispered Nick Garth. “P’r’aps they’re lying wait for us.”

“No,” said Mark, aloud. “They’re away somewhere, and I hope they haven’t seen our lights.”

Whizz—thud!

There was an involuntary start from the attacking party, for at that moment the burning link Ralph had thrown came sharply back, struck against the wall where the glow had shone just before, and dropped, blazing and smoking, nearly at their feet.

“That settles it,” said Mark excitedly.

“Yes, and that explains the chink I heard. They’re waiting for us. Ready? We must charge.”

Ralph’s words were followed by the pressing forward of the men behind—those of each family being eager to prove their valour by being before their rivals; and the next minute half-a-dozen were round the corner, with the two lads at their head, to find that the passage had suddenly widened out into a roomy chamber, toward whose high roof the smoke from the torches slowly ascended, and contracted again at the end, about a dozen yards away.

“Yes, I remember,” whispered Ralph. “I had forgotten: it goes off in a passage round to the left again at that corner.”

The men crowded in after them, finding ample room now, and all looked about, puzzled, for the enemy who had hurled back the link, several of those present being ready to place a strange interpretation upon the mystery.

But the explanation was plain enough when they reached the end of the chamber, where the onward passage was but a crack some two feet wide, with a bristling palisade of pike-heads to bar their further progress. There was no hesitation. At the sight of something real to attack, Mark uttered a shout.

“Here they are, lads,” he cried. “Now for it! Pikes.”

The men, Edenites and Darleyites, closed in together, forgetting all their animosities, and their pike-heads gathered into a dense mass, clashing against those which bristled in the narrow opening, clinked against the stone sides, and rattled, as the holders thrust and stabbed away past their young leaders’ shoulders, for, to their great disgust, both Mark and Ralph found that they could do nothing with their swords.

And now the silence which had reigned was further broken by the excited cries of the men, given at every thrust they made into the opening, their attack eliciting yells of defiance, oaths, and threats of what would be done directly.

The fight went on for a few minutes, with apparently no effect on either side, the attacking party being unable to reach the defenders, while the latter seemed to be too much crippled for space to attack in turn, contenting themselves with presenting their bristling points against the advance.

“Halt!” cried Mark suddenly. “This is of no use.”

“No,” growled Nick Garth, as, in obedience to the order, the men drew back a couple of yards, to stand, though, with their pikes directed at the narrow opening.

“Come out, you rats, and fight fair,” roared Dan Rugg; and there was a derisive shout of laughter, which echoed through the chamber, followed by the hoarse voice of Captain Purlrose.

“Go home, bumpkins!” he shouted, “or we’ll spit you all together like larks.”

“Beast!” shouted back Mark; and stepping forward he hurled his link right in over the pike-heads, amongst their holders, eliciting a series of thrusts and furious yells, as he took one step back, and fell back the next. A savage roar rose from his men, answered by another from within.

“Hurt, Mark Eden?” cried Ralph excitedly, catching at his brother leader, and saving him from going down.

“No: feel stupid,” panted Mark, who looked confused and dizzy; “point struck this stupid steel cap;” and he tore it off, and threw it down, though it had in all probability saved his life; the step back he had taken, however, had lessened the force of the thrust. “Better now.—Here, stop them. They are doing no good.”

For enraged by what had taken place, the attacking party had rushed in again, to go on stabbing and thrusting away with their pikes, keeping up a series of rattlings and clashings, till Ralph made his voice heard, and they drew back, growling angrily, and the weird light shed by the torches showed that blood had begun to flow from hands and arms.

“We must do something different to this,” cried Ralph, as soon as the yells of derision which greeted their repulse were over.

“Yes, young idiot! Go home to bed,” shouted the captain hoarsely. Then he burst into a savage tirade of curses, for Dummy, in his rage at being right at the back, had thrown another blazing torch straight in over the bristling pike-heads, lighting up the interior, and showing the savage faces of the defenders close together. Ralph judged that the link had struck the captain.

“Stand fast, men,” he whispered. “We may make them charge out that way. Go on, Dummy, and half-a-dozen more of you throw in your links all together.”

The order was obeyed, after the torches had been waved into a fierce blaze, and they flew in, scattering drops of burning pitch, bringing forth an outburst of yells of rage and pain, and a quick movement showed that the marauders were about to rush out. But the voice of Captain Purlrose was heard thundering out the words:

“Stand fast! Only a few drops of pitch, and a singe or two. Here, two of you, throw them back.” An exchange of burning missiles now took place for a few minutes, which soon ended on the part of the defenders, who, roaring with rage and pain, kept on trampling out the torches now thrown.

“Stop!” cried Mark. “It’s of no good. The cowards will not come out. Here, Ralph Darley.”

There was a few moments’ whispering, resulting in orders being given to the men, two of the Edens, and two of the Darleys standing aside, ready for some action.

“Now for another charge,” whispered Mark. “Take as long a hold of your pikes as you can, and when I give the order, let your points be all together like one. Ready? Forward!”

As the little party advanced, with their pike-heads almost touching, while those of their enemies were advanced to defend the opening, the two men on either side darted close up, shielded by the wall, passed their arms over with a quick motion, and each grasped and held fast one or two pike-shafts, in spite of the efforts of their holders to get them free.

But there were enough left to defend the hole, and one by one, in spite of the desperate efforts made to hold them, the imprisoned weapons were at last dragged away, to reappear, stabbing furiously, till, breathless with their exertions, the men once more drew back, several of the Edens in their rage snatching their small mining-picks from their belts, one hurling his into the hole, a wild yell telling that it had done its work.

“Well,” said Mark despondently, “what can we do?”

“Wait and see if they will come out and attack us. We are wasting strength.”

“Yes. It’s no good. We ought to have brought a lot of blasting-powder, Dan, and blown them out.”

“Yes, Master Mark; but we didn’t know. My advice is that we go back now, and come again.”

“Why, you’re hurt,” said Ralph excitedly, as he saw the blood streaming down the man’s arm.

“Ah, so’s a lot of us, young master,” growled the man. “Look at your own lads.”

Ralph took and raised a torch, and saw that half his own party, including Nick Garth and Ram Jennings, were suffering from cuts and stabs in their arms.

“Oh, they’re nowt,” growled Nick. “They’ve got it worse inside. Now then, let’s go at ’em again, or we shall never do it.”

Another yell of defiance came from the passage, followed by mocking invitations to them to come on again.

“Yah! You aren’t men,” roared Ram Jennings. “Rats, that’s what you are—rats. Only good to go and fight wi’ women.”

“It’s of no good,” said Mark bitterly. “I feel done. I haven’t had a single cut or thrust at one of the brutes; neither have you. We can’t do it.”

“I don’t like to say so,” said Ralph, “but my father was a soldier, and he said a good officer never wasted his men.”

“Well, we’re wasting ours,” said Mark bitterly, “We must give up, and come again.”

“Stop,” whispered Ralph. “I know. Give orders to your men quietly, and I’ll do so to mine. Then we’ll throw the torches in at them with all our might, and give a shout, and retreat as if we were beaten.”

“And stop on each side of the mouth to catch them as they pursue us,” said Mark excitedly, catching at the idea. “That’s it.”

The next moment they were hurrying from man to man, who heard them sulkily, growling and panting in their rage. But they obeyed their leaders’ orders, getting their remaining links well ablaze, the holders forming in front, and the rest quietly and quickly filing out by the other end of the chamber.

“Now!” shouted Ralph suddenly. “In with them.”

There was a rush of light, and the fiery missiles flew in through the opening, falling amongst the defenders, and leaving the chamber in comparative darkness, amidst which was heard the quick tramping of feet, mingled with the yells of rage from the defenders.

The next minute, with Mark and Ralph coming last, all were outside the mouth of the cavern, grouped in two parties, with presented weapons, breathing the soft, cool night air, and waiting for