Chirk sat down limply on one of the chests. “A year! But—it could be hid away! just a few bags of it!”
John dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, Jerry! I didn’t tell you, but Stogumber—the man you rescued last night—isn’t searching for an estate, as he’s tried to hoax us into believing. He’s searching for this gold, and for the men who stole it. He’s a Bow Street Runner!”
The shoulder stiffened under his hand. “What?” Chirk said. “A Redbreast? A Redbreast which I—I!—saved from being stuck in the back?”
“You never did a better day’s work in your life. He’s not ungrateful, and I fancy I see how he may be made more grateful yet! Don’t look so blue-devilled! You’ll win your fortune! Why, Jerry, where have your wits gone begging? There will be a huge reward paid to the man who discovers these chests! You told me you wanted no more than a monkey to set you up: if all these cases hold sovereigns and half-sovereigns, as I think they may well, a monkey won’t be more than a fraction of what the Government will pay for their recovery!”
Chirk drew in his breath with a hissing sound. “That’s so!” he said, as though a great light had dawned. “And pound dealing, too! But this Redbreast—! You’re not gammoning me, Soldier?”
“No. While you were holding his head over the sink last night, I picked up the notebook which had fallen from his pocket when we threw his coat aside. Have you heard of Occurrence Books?” Chirk nodded. “This was one. He doesn’t know yet that I’ve smoked him: I think he has a notion I too may be concerned in this business.”
“Well, he’ll soon know you ain’t.”
“Not too soon, if I can contrive it! Chirk, you found the gold, and the reward will be yours, but will you trust me to manage the business as will be best for all of us?”
“Ay, but it wasn’t me found the dibs!” Chirk pointed out. “It was you brought me here! I may be a bridle-cull, but I’m danged if I’m a cove as diddles my friends!”
“I may have brought you here, but did I find these chests? All I found was a gallery! I don’t want the reward, so let us have no more talk of that! What I want is to keep Miss Nell and the Squire out of this business—and Henry Stornaway, too, for their sakes, though it goes against the grain! I don’t know how I may do that, but some way there must be! Sir Peter must not know what you and I have discovered, and I’d give all I possess to keep it from Miss Nell too! How much Stogumber knows already I can’t guess: something he must know, for why else should he have come to this district? But not much, surely! If he had proof to bring against Coate or Henry, he would have arrested them; if he knew where this gold was hid we shouldn’t have found it here today!”
“What are you wishful to do?” Chirk asked.
“Keep Henry Stornaway’s name out of it, if I can. If I can’t, get him out of the country before Stogumber knows the whole!”
“And Coate?”
The Captain’s jaw hardened. “No. I’m damned if I will! No, by God! There are two dead men at least to be laid to his account, for I’ll swear it was he who shot those guards! He and that man of his, maybe. That’s another thing, Jerry! We could reveal these chests to Stogumber, but he wants more than the gold: he wants the men who stole it. What proof is there that Coate was the arch-thief?”
“Well,” said Chirk, stroking his chin reflectively, “it would look uncommon like he must have done the business—him being at Kellands, wouldn’t it?”
“It might look smoky, but unless Stogumber has proof, which I’ll swear he has not, it’s not enough to warrant an arrest. Lord, I don’t know what I am going to do, but give me a little time before you go to Stogumber!”
His wry smile twisted Chirk’s lips. “Didn’t I tell you I’d had my orders from that mort o’ mine I was to do what you tell me, Soldier? I won’t deny that if it was Rose’s cousin which had run his head into this noose I’d feel the way you do. I’ll stand buff, and there’s my famble on it!”
He stretched out his hand, and John gripped it warmly. “Thank you! You’re a damned good fellow! I have one day at least to consider what I can do: I fancy Stogumber won’t do much spying today. He’ll be feeling as sick as a horse, and will very likely keep his bed. But he’s been recognized: we have to bear that in mind! That must have been why he was set upon last night. If Coate were to take fright, and run for it—why, that would solve the thing for us! If he don’t—lord, I wish I saw my way!”
“I daresay you will,” Chirk replied. “I’m bound to say I don’t, but that don’t signify.” He looked up at John. “Was Ned Brean in this?”
“I think, undoubtedly,” John said. He glanced round at the encircling gloom, and Chirk saw that the good-humored expression had quite vanished from his face. “There was the gate to be passed, and there must have been an urgent need of a strong man to assist in carrying these chests from the lane to this place. There were no wheel ruts off the lane, nor could a heavily laden vehicle have been dragged across the ditch. The chests must have been carried by hand—and Henry would be useless for such work.”
“What queers me,” said Chirk, “is how they ever got ’em down that ‘regular stairway’ of yours! Why, it was as much as I could do to get down holding on to the wall, and any rock that came handy! If I’d tried to carry anything, I’d have foundered, sure as a gun!”
“I fancy they lowered them with ropes. They must have!” John said, picking up his lantern, and walking round the cases. “Yes, here we are! A couple of coils of stout rope.”
Chirk was frowning. “If Ned was working with Coate, where is he?” he demanded. “I remember what Benny said about being woke up by a wagon one night, and Ned going off like he did. What took him off again last Saturday, and where did he pike to? Did he get scared, d’ye think?”
“No, I don’t think that. I think—he came here.”
Chirk glanced up swiftly, a question in his face, and then his eyes travelled as swiftly to the one open chest. “It was him broke that open? Tipping the rest of ’em the double?”
“Trying to, perhaps. He didn’t succeed. The chest is full.”
Chirk got up with a jerk. “Look’ee here, Soldier—! What’s in your noddle, for God’s sake?”
“Where is he?” said John significantly. “Why did the news that Brean had gone away alarm Henry Stornaway so much? Why did Henry come here the night before last? And what did he find here to make him look as though he had seen a ghost?”
Chirk passed his tongue between his lips, and cast a staring look about him. “Maybe—we’d do well to search a bit more!” he said, a trifle thickly. He gave a shiver. “God, I’ll be glad to be out of this place!”
The light from John’s lantern was being cast on to the ground, slowly moving in a wide arc. “If he was surprised here—and killed here, there should be some sign of it.”
“There was no call to kill him!”
“There may have been a fight.”
“Ay, likely enough!” Chirk said, after a moment. “He’d have fought, Ned would.” He said no more, and for a few minutes only the rushing noise of water, which seemed to come from deep within the hill, broke the silence. Then the Captain’s lantern was lowered, and he knelt, keenly inspecting the ground. Chirk, who had been searching along one of the walls, saw, and trod quickly over to his side. The Captain pressed the palm of one hand on the ground, and lifted it, and held it in the light.
Chirk swallowed audibly, and said in a rough voice: “Where did they put him? We got to find him, Soldier!”
“Follow the bloodstains,” John replied, rising and moving forward, his eyes fixed to the ground. “He bled a great deal, Chirk. There was a sticky pool of it where I laid my hand. This looks like some more of it.” He stooped again. “Yes. And here!”
“Going towards that other passage you saw,” Chirk said. “I’m for trying that way: they wouldn’t have left him here, and the chests being here no one had any call to go farther.”
He walked forward, and his lantern presently found the hole in the rock. It was narrow, and low; more blood was to be detected there; and after one look at it, Chirk went on, John following him.