'No, I'll get them,' I said.
'All right,' she said. 'It's the first on the left at the top of the stairs.'
I lit a spare lamp and went out into the corridor. A light glowed on the landing above. I started up the stairs, but as I reached the bend I stopped. The old man was standing there, a lamp in his left hand and the little mining pick held in his right.
We stood there looking at each other for a moment. Then I started up the stairs again. He half-raised the pick. The steel of it gleamed in the lamplight. It was a vicious little weapon. His eyes watched me as I came up the stairs. He was trembling and he kept passing his tongue across his lips.
As I came round the bend of the stairs, a shiver seemed to run through him. He gave a little moan like an animal that's been hurt. Then he turned and stumbled down the corridor. I heard his feet on the bare stairboards leading to the attic room as I reached the top of the stairs. I went after him, up the staircase to the room where he had put my mother. He was standing there in the middle of the bare room. Behind him was the iron-barred window. He was still trembling.
I pulled the door to. The key with which Mrs Brynd had opened it for him was still in the lock. I turned it. The hatch was open. He hadn't moved. He just stood there, the lamp in his hand. I went back down the little staircase then.
In his room I found all I wanted. I towelled myself down and changed into dry clothes. I found some oilskins and a sou'wester. I made a bundle of them and went downstairs to his son's office. His desk was almost clear of papers and the safe door was closed. I had expected that. He would have got rid of all dangerous papers and hidden his surplus cash. I was looking for something quite different. I found it in the bottom drawer of the desk under a pile of bills. It was a .38 Service pattern revolver. There were rounds for it in a cardboard box. I loaded the weapon and slipped it inside the oilskins; I wasn't taking any chances with Mulligan.
There was a tap at the door and Kitty entered. She had on a brown tweed suit and her hair was brushed back and tied with a ribbon. She had a bottle in her hand and a glass. 'I thought you'd need a drink,' she said hesitantly.
'What is it — Scotch?'
She nodded and poured me out half a tumblerful. 'There, drink that up,' she said. 'You need it after all you've done today.'
'I'll say I do.' She gave me the glass and I took a big gulp. I could feel the fiery liquid running down into my stomach. I gasped and drank again. 'What about you?' I asked. 'You need some, too.'
'Yes,' she said. 'Perhaps I do.'
I passed her the tumbler. She took a sip at it and made a wry face. 'Go on,' I said. 'It'll keep you warm.' She nodded and drank again. Her face flushed and she gasped.
I took the glass from her and finished it off. 'We'd better get moving,' I said, looking at my watch. It was a quarter to four.
'What about Mr Manack?'
'I've locked him in upstairs. Come on.'
I picked up a torch that was lying on a table, tested it and then followed her out into the passage. She got a small bundle of things wrapped in oilskins from the kitchen and joined me.
We left the house by the front door and went straight down through the shadowy outlines of the ruined mine workings. As we started down the slope I turned and looked back. Cripples' Ease lay like a dark shadow against the night sky. Only one light burned there. That was in the little room at the top. The bars were clearly visible, and behind them, inside the room, the old man's shadow moved back and forth across the ceiling as he paced the floor.
I went on then down the slope, my face turned to the clean wind that came up from the sea. The ruined buildings seemed remote and primitive. They stood there like decaying tombstones, marking the passage of generations of miners. They were the only indications of the honeycomb of workings running deep down below the cliffs and out under the sea. I shivered and tried to forget about the events of the last few hours. It was like a nightmare, something that only existed in the imagination. But the old engine house, built of great granite slabs, which came to meet us out of the darkness reminded me that it was all real enough, that Manack and Friar and Slim and Dave were not the first men to die like rats beneath the ground we walked on. I was glad to be going. I'm a Cornishman and a miner, but, by God, I tell you I was glad to be leaving the tin coast.
Kitty found a place where we could climb down not far from the adit mouth of Wheal Garth. We found a patch of grass halfway down and sat there, gazing out into the dark vista of the sea. Below us the waves rolled ceaselessly against the cliffs, fringing the base with a line of surf. Beyond was a dark void in which the advancing lines of the Atlantic swell were sensed rather than seen.
We had not long to wait. Just after four a dark shape drew in towards the cliffs. Kitty seized my arm and pointed. It was the Arisaig all right. I could dimly see the outline of her schooner rig. I pulled my torch out and flashed in morse: Send boat ' — Manack. There was no answering signal. I repeated the message. Still no answering signal, but a moment later a small shape detached itself from the dark bulk of the schooner and came bobbing across the waves towards the cliffs. We scrambled down to a ledge of rock that ran out into the sea. I flashed my torch to direct them. Then we stripped to our underclothes, tied our things up in the oilskins and swam out to meet the boat.
Mulligan was in the stern sheets. 'What the devil's this girl doing here?' he asked as they pulled us aboard. 'Where's Tanner?'
'Dead,' I said. 'So's Manack.'
'You're lying,' he snarled.
Briefly I told him what had happened as we lay there rocking on the long Atlantic swell. 'I don't believe ye,' he said when I'd finished.
'Then row in and take a look at the adit,' I said.
He hesitated. I could see he didn't like the idea of hanging about. Dawn would soon be breaking, and then the Arisaig would be in full view from the coastguards' look-out at Cape Cornwall. But he gave the order and the boat's bows turned in towards the cliffs. We had no difficulty in finding the mouth of the adit. Even in the dim light the sea looked a muddy brown, and where the waves beat in against the cliffs an ochre-coloured torrent foamed up from just below the surface.
He ordered the boat to put about then and the seamen pulled out from underneath the cliffs, back towards the Arisaig. 'The girl comes with me,' I said. 'Before all this happened Manack had appointed me his representative in Italy. I'll show you his letters later. If you want any more cargoes, you'd better see that we get there safely.'
He grunted, but said nothing.
Kitty was getting into her clothes. She had towelled herself down with an oilskin jacket wrapped round her. I did the same, and when I was dressed I slipped the pistol into my jacket pocket. The dark outline of the schooner showed in the gloom. In a few minutes we were on board and the boat was in its davits.
Orders were given in a subdued voice. The sails ceased to flap and bulked out as they tightened and filled. Kitty had gone for'ard to the bows. I joined her there. Behind us the light of Pendeen Watch outlined the rugged cliffs at regular intervals. But she never looked back. She stared straight ahead, her hair blowing in the wind.
The bows began to talk as they dipped and rose across the waves. I took her hand. It trembled slightly. 'We'll be married in Rome, shall we?' I said.
'Married?' She looked at me in surprise.
'Of course.'
'— I didn't know.' Her fingers tightened on my hand and her eyes were shining in the darkness. 'Oh, Jim,' she said. 'I'm so glad.'
She turned away then and stared out ahead as the schooner ploughed her way through the water. Far out across the dark sea the Wolf lighthouse winked at us. And beyond, on the edge of the horizon, the Bishop light showed for a moment, pointing the way to a new life.