Rodney Stone by Arthur Conan Doyle (ebook reader below 3000 TXT) 📕

only one of many, and that he was an adept at the art.  It was done before ever I knew the danger, and she was left with her broken heart and her ruined life to return to that home into which she had brought disgrace and misery.  I only saw her once.  She told me that her seducer had burst out a-laughing when she had reproached him for his perfidy, and I swore to her that his heart’s blood should pay me for that laugh.

“I was a valet at the time, but I was not yet in the service of Lord Avon.  I applied for and gained that position with the one idea that it might give me an opportunity of settling my accounts with his younger brother.  And yet my chance was a terribly long time coming, for many months had passed before the visit to Cliffe Royal gave me the opportunity which I longed for by day and dreamed of by night.  When it did come, however, it came in a fashion which was more favourable to my plans than anything that I had ever ventured to hope for.

“Lord Avon was of opinion that no one but himself knew of the secret passages in Cliffe Royal.  In this he was mistaken.  I knew of them—or, at least, I knew enough of them to serve my purpose.  I need not tell you how, one day, when preparing the chambers for the guests, an accidental pressure upon part of the fittings caused a panel to gape in the woodwork, and showed me a narrow opening in the wall.  Making my way down this, I found that another panel led into a larger bedroom beyond.  That was all I knew, but it was all that was needed for my purpose.  The disposal of the rooms had been left in my hands, and I arranged that Captain Barrington should sleep in the larger and I in the smaller.  I could come upon him when I wished, and no one would be the wiser.

“And then he arrived.  How can I describe to you the fever of impatience in which I lived until the moment should come for which I had waited and planned.  For a night and a day they gambled, and for a night and a day I counted the minutes which brought me nearer to my man.  They might ring for fresh wine at what hour they liked, they always found me waiting and ready, so that this young captain hiccoughed out that I was the model of all valets.  My master advised me to go to bed.  He had noticed my flushed cheek and my bright eyes, and he set me down as being in a fever.  So I was, but it was a fever which only one medicine could assuage.

“Then at last, very early in the morning, I heard them push back their chairs, and I knew that their game had at last come to an end.  When I entered the room to receive my orders, I found that Captain Barrington had already stumbled off to bed.  The others had also retired, and my master was sitting alone at the table, with his empty bottle and the scattered cards in front of him.  He ordered me angrily to my room, and this time I obeyed him.

“My first care was to provide myself with a weapon.  I knew that if I were face to face with him I could tear his throat out, but I must so arrange that the fashion of his death should be a noiseless one.  There was a hunting trophy in the hall, and from it I took a straight heavy knife which I sharpened upon my boot.  Then I stole to my room, and sat waiting upon the side of my bed.  I had made up my mind what I should do.  There would be little satisfaction in killing him if he was not to know whose hand had struck the blow, or which of his sins it came to avenge.  Could I but bind him and gag him in his drunken sleep, then a prick or two of my dagger would arouse him to listen to what I had to say to him.  I pictured the look in his eyes as the haze of sleep cleared slowly away from them, the look of anger turning suddenly to stark horror as he understood who I was and what I had come for.  It would be the supreme moment of my life.

“I waited as it seemed to me for at least an hour; but I had no watch, and my impatience was such that I dare say it really was little more than a quarter of that time.  Then I rose, removed my shoes, took my knife, and having opened the panel, slipped silently through.  It was not more than thirty feet that I had to go, but I went inch by inch, for the old rotten boards snapped like breaking twigs if a sudden weight was placed upon them.  It was, of course, pitch dark, and very, very slowly I felt my way along.  At last I saw a yellow seam of light glimmering in front of me, and I knew that it came from the other panel.  I was too soon, then, since he had not extinguished his candles.  I had waited many months, and I could afford to wait another hour, for I did not wish to do anything precipitately or in a hurry.

“It was very necessary to move silently now, since I was within a few feet of my man, with only the thin wooden partition between.  Age had warped and cracked the boards, so that when I had at last very stealthily crept my way as far as the sliding-panel, I found that I could, without any difficulty, see into the room.  Captain Barrington was standing by the dressing-table with his coat and vest off.  A large pile of sovereigns, and several slips of paper were lying before him, and he was counting over his gambling gains.  His face was flushed, and he was heavy from want of sleep and from wine.  It rejoiced me to see it, for it meant that his slumber would be deep, and that all would be made easy for me.

“I was still watching him, when of a sudden I saw him start, and a terrible expression come upon his face.  For an instant my heart stood still, for I feared that he had in some way divined my presence.  And then I heard the voice of my master within.  I could not see the door by which he had entered, nor could I see him where he stood, but I heard all that he had to say.  As I watched the captain’s face flush fiery-red, and then turn to a livid white as he listened to those bitter words which told him of his infamy, my revenge was sweeter—far sweeter—than my most pleasant dreams had ever pictured it.  I saw my master approach the dressing-table, hold the papers in the flame of the candle, throw their charred ashes into the grate, and sweep the golden pieces into a small brown canvas bag.  Then, as he turned to leave the room, the captain seized him by the wrist, imploring him, by the memory of their mother, to have mercy upon him; and I loved my master as I saw him drag his sleeve from the grasp of the clutching fingers, and leave the stricken wretch grovelling upon the floor.

“And now I was left with a difficult point to settle, for it was hard for me to say whether it was better that I should do that which I had come for, or whether, by holding this man’s guilty secret, I might not have in my hand a keener and more deadly weapon than my master’s hunting-knife.  I was sure that Lord Avon could not and would not expose him.  I knew your sense of family pride too well, my lord, and I was certain that his secret was safe in your hands.  But I both could and would; and then, when his life had been blasted, and he had been hounded from his regiment and from his clubs, it would be time, perhaps, for me to deal in some other way with him.”

“Ambrose, you are a black villain,” said my uncle.

“We all have our own feelings, Sir Charles; and you will permit me to say that a serving-man may resent an injury as much as a gentleman, though the redress of the duel is denied to him.  But I am telling you frankly, at Lord Avon’s request, all that I thought and did upon that night, and I shall continue to do so, even if I am not fortunate enough to win your approval.

“When Lord Avon had left him, the captain remained for some time in a kneeling attitude, with his face sunk upon a chair.  Then he rose, and paced slowly up and down the room, his chin sunk upon his breast.  Every now and then he would pluck at his hair, or shake his clenched hands in the air; and I saw the moisture glisten upon his brow.  For a time I lost sight of him, and I heard him opening drawer after drawer, as though he were in search of something.  Then he stood over by his dressing-table again, with his back turned to me.  His head was thrown a little back, and he had both hands up to the collar of his shirt, as though he were striving to undo it.  And then there was a gush as if a ewer had been upset, and down he sank upon the ground, with his head in the corner, twisted round at so strange an angle to his shoulders that one glimpse of it told me that my man was slipping swiftly from the clutch in which I had fancied that I held him.  I slid my panel, and was in the room in an instant.  His eyelids still quivered, and it seemed to me, as my gaze met his glazing eyes, that I could read both recognition and surprise in them.  I laid my knife upon the floor, and I stretched myself out beside him, that I might whisper in his ear one or two little things of which I wished to remind him; but even as I did so, he gave a gasp and was gone.

“It is singular that I, who had never feared him in life, should be frightened at him now, and yet when I looked at him, and saw that all was motionless save the creeping stain upon the carpet, I was seized with a sudden foolish spasm of terror, and, catching up my knife, I fled swiftly and silently back to my own room, closing the panels behind me.  It was only when I had reached it that I found that in my mad haste I had carried away, not the hunting-knife which I had taken with me, but the bloody razor which had dropped from the dead man’s hand.  This I concealed where no one has ever discovered it; but my fears would not allow me to go back for the other, as I might perhaps have done, had I foreseen how terribly its presence might tell against my master.  And that, Lady Avon and gentlemen, is an exact and honest account of how Captain Barrington came by his end.”

“And how was it,” asked my uncle, angrily, “that you have allowed an innocent man to be persecuted all these years, when a word from you might have saved him?”

“Because I had every reason to believe, Sir Charles, that that would be most unwelcome to Lord Avon.  How could I tell all this without revealing the family scandal which he was so anxious to conceal?  I confess that at the beginning I did not tell him what I had seen, and my excuse must be that he disappeared before I had time to determine what I should do.  For many a year, however—ever since I have been in your service, Sir Charles—my conscience tormented me, and I swore that if ever I should find my old master, I should reveal everything to him.  The chance of my overhearing a story told by young Mr. Stone here, which showed me that some one was using the secret chambers of Cliffe Royal, convinced me that Lord Avon was in hiding there, and I lost no time in seeking him out and offering to do him all the justice in my power.”

“What he says is true,” said his master; “but it would have been strange indeed if I had hesitated to sacrifice a frail life and failing health in a cause for which I freely surrendered all that youth had to offer.  But new considerations have at last compelled me to alter my resolution.  My son, through ignorance of his true position, was drifting into a course of life which