Rudd ran the cord over the hook, which was about five feet from the floor, keeping the loose end of the line in his hands.
'Right, heave away,' Gregory said tonelessly.
Rudd obeyed with a will. As he drew the line taut the Limper's pinioned wrists were drawn up behind his back until his arms were stretched to their limit and began to bear the weight of his prostrate body.
'Go on, heave I said,' shot out Gregory mercilessly.
As Rudd threw his whole weight on the cord the Limper's shoulders came off the ground with a jerk and his head hung down towards the floor between them. He let out a sudden gasp of agony.
'Are you talking?' asked Gregory, with a sudden quietness.
'Let me down let me down,' moaned the tortured man.
'Not till you talk,' said Gregory pitilessly, 'and I haven't finished yet by half.'
As the Limper remained silent he strode over to the gas stove; picked up a wax taper and lit it.
In two strides he was back beside the hanging man. He pushed the lighted taper a few inches below the Limper's face for a second then withdrew it quickly.
'See that?' he asked. 'You'll tell me the truth about that message or I'll burn your eyes out.'
'Good God, sir, you can't!' exclaimed Rudd, suddenly paling. 'It-it's fiendish.'
Gregory swung on him. 'You fool! My woman's life depends upon my loosening this brute's tongue and I mean to do it.'
Rudd shuddered. 'Sorry, sir. Looked at like that o' course you're right.'
Gregory thrust the taper under the Limper's face again,, nearer this time, but only for an instant.
Suddenly he let out a wail and cried: 'All right, I'll tell you.'
'Go on,' ordered Gregory, holding the taper ready, so that he could push it under the man's face again if he regained his courage; but the Limper was broken now and he sobbed out in gasping breaths: 'You-you got the message wrong it wasn't sea nymphs or mermaids. "Knell's" the key word in the sentence. That means the Bell tower Quex Park. The planes are landing in the Park itself tonight, but-but they'll be gone before you get there blast you!'
'Let him go,' snapped Gregory.
Rudd loosed the straining cord letting the Limper's body fall to the floor with a bang. They pulled it from the doorway and rushed outside. Wells was standing about fifteen yard away from the cottage.
'What've you been up to?' he asked dubiously.
'Never mind. Your man's inside, or what's left of him,' Gregory panted. 'Bell was the word, not Mermaid. I give you that in return for what you've done for me. Think it out.' With Rudd hard at his heels he dashed away into the darkness.
23
Where Sea-Nymphs Hourly Ring His Knell'
Side by side Gregory and Rudd dashed along the half obscured footway to the shacks at Hook Quay. The police were still moving there and taking notes of the contents of the barges. A group of some thirty prisoners, heavily guarded, stood by the wharf ready to be marched away to the main, road where a fleet of police vans would now be waiting. A car was parked at the end of the track which led inland and Gregory recognised it as the long low sports model in which he had previously seen the Limper; evidently it had brought him and his companion, half an hour earlier, to meet the barges.
They hastened past it at a quick jog trot and away from the creek towards Old Hook. Another four minutes and they were in the car Rudd had parked there ready for their getaway; hurtling over the uneven track towards the level crossing and the road.
'We'll never make it, sir,' gasped Rudd when he had partially regained his breath. 'By road, Quex Park's near on forty miles from here. Can't do that much under the hour; even if we take a chance on being pinched by speed cops.'
'God knows if we'll be in time,' Gregory groaned, 'but we'll be in Quex Park under a quarter of an hour bar accidents.'
'Go on, sir, that just ain't possible.'
'It is, you big sap. You don't think I was ass enough to rely upon the car alone do you? Before we left London I telephoned Heston and had a hired pilot fly my plane down here in readiness for us.'
'S'truth! Mr. Gregory, you're a wonder, but where is it?'
'Parked on the racecourse halfway between Queenborough and Sheerness. That's the only decent landing ground I could think of for the hired man to fly it to. We'll be there in less than a couple of minutes.'
They had already crossed, and recrossed, the railway and were roaring down the straight of the second-class road to the south of it. A moment later they swung north on to a better road.'
As Gregory pulled up he glanced at the clock on the dashboard. To his satisfaction, but momentary amazement, he found that it was only ten minutes past twelve. The smugglers had attempted their landing at a quarter to and all the excitement which had ensued, together with their brief journey, had occupied no more than twenty-five minutes.
They flung themselves out of the car at the entrance of the racecourse and dashed in through a gate beside a tall deserted stand. Some bright flares were burning in the open space before it which picked out the silver wings of the waiting plane.
The racecourse keeper and a couple of his men met them near the plane and began quick expostulations but Gregory brushed them aside with the terse explanation: 'Police business. No time to talk.'
A rapid handshake with the hired pilot; then Gregory and Rudd scrambled on board. The engine stuttered and burst into a" roar. Another moment and the plane taxied forward sailing into the air. It banked steeply and swung away east by south, over Sheppey Island, then across the entrance of the
Swale. They picked up the land again near the Reculvers and headed dead for Quex Park.
The twenty miles of air were eaten up in less than seven minutes and, as they zoomed towards the tree surrounded enclosures that were now so familiar, Gregory was sorely tempted to land upon one of the grassy stretches which he knew lay between the coppices. Next second he caught sight of lights right in the centre of the Park; Gavin Fortescue and his people were still there. To bring the plane down anywhere near them would give the alarm prematurely.
He banked again, cursing the heavy clouds that obscured the stars, as he sailed low over the black belt of trees fringing the eastern end of the Park. Then he switched on his landing light and planed down towards his old landing ground outside the gates.
They came down with a horrible bump which made their teeth rattle in their heads, bounced up, sailed on and hit the ground again. There was the sound of rending fabric as the plane crashed to a standstill. One of its wingtips had caught a pylon bearing the electric cables of the grid system.
'Gawd!' exclaimed Rudd, grabbing the zip fastener of the emergency exit at the top of the cabin.
'To hell with the plane,' Gregory shot back flinging open the door, which fortunately had not jammed, and tumbling out.
Rudd was after him in a second, and they were running again, towards the lane. They had landed within a hundred yards of the east gate of the Park. Gregory seized the ironwork and pushed it violently. The gate swung open. They slipped through, jumped a fence that divided the drive from the fields, and ran on over the ground which Gregory had covered in his first visit.
Panting for breath they reached the coppice where Gregory had lain hidden, thrust their way through it, and came out upon he other side into the open space before the house.