Tom Tiddler's Island, стр. 61
“Thassa mouthful,” said the gunman leader admiringly. “You talk straight and sensible, mister. But I’m gonna put my finger on a bit where you’ve been too smart for my ideas. If we give up the girls, what grip are we gonna have on you, BO’S you’ll have to do what you say? None, says you? No, no, mister. We’ll have to think again. This is how it goes. We keep the girls till you hand over the gold. We’ll not hurt ’em. We’ll not frighten ’em. We’ll feed ’em well and let ’em have the run of the cellar—and there’s some prime stuff there, we’ve found. You’ll get your beauties back after the gold’s been passed over.”
Colin’s heart sank at this proviso, though it was obviously an inevitable one.
“Very well,” said Northfleet, without arguing the point. “That’s agreed.”
“But, look here, mister,” the gunman went on. “How much gold do we get? Isn’t there a snag there?”
“You’ll get enough to satisfy you,” said Northfleet in a convincing tone. “More than you can spend in the rest of your lives. And if any of you thinks he hasn’t got enough, he’s only to come back and ask for more.”
“Straight?”
“Straight.”
“Sounds like a dream,” said the gunman suspiciously. “I’m gonna pinch myself and wake up.”
“You’re a fool,” said Northfleet contemptuously. “What does gold cost to a man who can make it? It’s as easy to make a ton as an ounce, except that it might take longer.”
The tone of his voice evidently convinced the gunman.
“You’re not polite, mister,” he complained. “Still, you sound as if you meant it.”
“I mean every word of it.”
“Kiss the Book on it?”
“Yes, if you want that. Can’t you recognise truth when you hear it?”
Colin was staggered by the coolness of Northfleet’s lying, for such he took it to be. These promises could never be fulfilled. And if they were not implemented, what hope was there of securing the safety of the captives? All that Northfleet could gain was a respite of two days; and if the gunmen were at liberty to seize the Dinnets when they landed, no rescue from outside could be expected within forty-eight hours. Northfleet’s procedure seemed to border on madness, in Colin’s opinion. Then the thought of the tunnel recurred to him, and he felt ashamed that he had not seen the point at once. All this bargaining had only one aim: to safeguard the girls until they could be extricated from Wester Voe via the underground passage. What a fool he had been, not to tumble to Northfleet’s game immediately! He was beginning to sketch out a plan of campaign on these lines when the gunman’s voice interrupted his chain of thought.
“Just in case you think of getting up to any games, we’d best straighten things out. Zelensky, you speak your piece.”
The stout mercenary fingered his pistol affectionately and glanced alertly from face to face.
“I am a man of few vorts,” he began, with faintly comical pomposity. “I haff had a little talk wiz zese gentlemen. Zey haff toldt me von or two facts, and I haff guessed some more. So I resign from ze service of Herr Professor Dr. Leven. Ze pay is too small. Ridiculous, really. And I associate myself viz my goot friendts here.” He indicated the two gunmen with a gesture. “Ze prospects are better. Natorp, he does ze same.”
He paused for a moment or two, an obviously rhetorical trick.
“Eizher way, zis leafs me on felfet. If ze goldt is O.K., zen I get my share. And if zis little speculation falls down, why—zere will be compensations. I haff long admired Miss Arrow. Very pretty. A goot little girl—— Take your hand avay from your pokket, Mr. Norzhfleet. No fonny business.”
He swung his barrel round to cover Northfleet, whose face had gone white and tense.
“Zere is just von more point. I haff smashed up ze short-wafe sender. You might have used it to get help, you see? Zome people are so treacherous, it vould surprise you to hear it. And now I haff finished. Goot night, Mr. Norzhfleet. If you do not manage to keep your vort to us, I shall not be altogezzer sorry.”
He retreated backwards from the room, keeping Northfleet covered as he launched his final jeer. The two gunmen followed him without a word.
“An amusing card,” said Northfleet, with white lips. “So now if it comes to ‘fonny business’ they’re six to four. A bit awkward.”
He whistled a little tune below his breath for a moment or two, as though deep in consideration. Then he turned round to Beeston.
“You’d better mount guard at the gate. Nobody will come; but it’s best to be on the safe side. The Klaxon will bring you help if anything does turn up. Got your pistol? Well, go now.”
Beeston showed obvious reluctance for the work, but he left the room without oral protest, and they heard him putting on his coat in the hall. The rain had ceased to lash the windows, but squalls still shook the casements from time to time, though they were less violent than before. Northfleet turned to Leven.
“You can do what you like,” he said, “so