Imogen Robertson - Island of Bones

‘We’re up here, Mr Sturgess. Miss Hurst and I!’

‘Very good!’ Mr Sturgess said something to the men he was with that Stephen couldn’t hear and they moved away. ‘Wait there, Master Westerman! I shall come up and light you both down.’

Harriet found Mrs Briggs and Mr Quince in the drawing room in Silverside.

‘Crowther’s wound is severe, but he is conscious and lucid and in Casper’s care. I think he will do,’ she said in reply to their first urgent enquiries, then looked about her. ‘I hoped to find Miss Hurst here. Is it possible she is closeted with the Vizegrafin?’

They were all confusion — no, Miss Hurst was not there. ‘I saw her this evening. She wished to see the ruins of Gutherscale Hall at dusk,’ Mr Quince said, and found himself the centre of Harriet’s furious attention. ‘Stephen went with her, as I did not feel I had the strength.’

‘Stephen? Dusk has passed long ago, Mr Quince.’

His eyes darted to the darkness outside the windows. ‘The news of Mr Crowther’s shooting, I did not notice the time passing. .’

‘I assume Stephen has not returned?’ Harriet asked. Quince shook his head. ‘Felix, Ham, I suggest you arm yourselves, and fetch lanterns. We must go immediately.’

Ham left the room at once with a nod. Felix, however, hesitated. ‘Mrs Westerman, surely you should allow us to go alone and remain here, till we return.’

Harriet did not bother to conceal her disgust. ‘Go and arm yourself, Felix. We shall not wait for you.’

Mr Sturgess emerged onto the top of the tower and placed his lantern down at his feet. The thin light set the shadows of the crenellations and suns on the battlements dancing. The fallen corner of the tower though seemed to swallow the light entirely and pour out darkness of its own. Miss Hurst crossed to Sturgess and shook hands with him.

‘I hope you have not had too uncomfortable a wait for us, Fraulein?’ he said. ‘I am sorry I was delayed.’

‘Stephen insisted on waiting with me to wish me farewell, and we have passed the time very happily together. Is all prepared? Shall we leave at once?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said with a smile and keeping a hold on her hand. ‘If you will just give me the Luck, then you shall be on your way at once.’

Miss Hurst looked confused. ‘The Luck, sir? I don’t understand you. Forgive me, what can you mean? I have the little carving of Casper’s — can you mean that?’

‘Now, now Miss Hurst. We spoke of it this morning — the treasure you wish to take from the valley. That is the Luck. Give it to me now, dear.’

Stephen saw her try to remove her hand from Sturgess’s, but though he was still smiling he held onto it fast. She put her other hand on her belly. ‘I am with child, Mr Sturgess. Did not you know? My child is the treasure of which I spoke.’

‘You stupid bitch!’ Sturgess pulled her hard, spinning her round so her back struck the low wall behind her, then he laid the whole weight of his body across her and bent her over so her upper body curved over the darkness. ‘I know he gave it to you!’

‘He did not! He did not! Only one of his carvings!’

‘Liar!’ he roared. ‘I know you have it! Give it to me now or I will cut that bastard whelp out of your belly this moment.’ Holding her against the wall with his left arm, he pulled a blade into his right hand. It caught the lantern light.

Sophia screamed.

‘Stop it! Let her go!’ Stephen was on his feet and there was a black taste in his mouth. ‘I have it, Mr Sturgess. I have it!’

They ran. Ham, Harriet and Felix, lightly and swift along the path between Overside Wood and Stub Hill. Ham and Felix carried lanterns held high, Harriet bundled her skirts over her arm, and her slippers scudded over the dry earth. They did not know they were watched for. There was a sound to the right, and in the same moment something came crashing down on Ham and he fell to the ground at once. Harriet and Felix turned to see two figures plunging out of the darkness, one with a club in his hand, the other a pistol. They all fired at once, and the air became as thick with flashes and powder smoke as at Mr Askew’s firework display. The one with the club shouted and fell writhing on the path. Harriet heard Felix cry out and spin to one side as the force of the bullet caught him, carried him round and dropped him to the ground. The other was uninjured. He stepped towards Harriet and raised the butt of his gun. She froze, unable to do anything but wait for him to strike. She closed her eyes, then heard a gasp and opened them again. The man’s expression had turned to one of surprise, the gun dropping from his hand as he fell forward, almost on top of her. There was an arrow sticking through the back of his left shoulder. She stared, still unable to move. A lumbering step and Mr Quince appeared on the path red and sweating holding Felix’s longbow in his left hand. He bent over, panting, then looked into Harriet’s white and frozen face.

‘There were no more guns,’ he said.

A scream, a woman’s, opened the air behind them. Harriet turned towards it, then back to Mr Quince. ‘Go, Mrs Westerman.’ She ran off into the night once more.

‘Give it to me.’ Sturgess sounded much calmer all of a sudden, but he still had his knife raised, was still pressing Sophia over the wall. Stephen pulled the pouch from his pocket and held it up where the light from the lantern could reach it.

‘Let her go first.’ He was shaking.

‘No, Stephen,’ Sturgess said softly, and shifted Sophia in front of him, the knife at her neck. ‘Bring it to me now, or I will cut her throat in front of you.’ He pressed the blade into her skin.

‘Stop!’ Stephen yelled. Then he lowered his arm and took a step forward. ‘Take it then.’

With all the strength and speed he could manage, he drew his arm back and threw the pouch at Sturgess’s head. The man dropped the knife and, pushing Sophia away from him, grabbed at it as it spun by him in the darkness and caught it with his fingertips. Stephen dashed to grab Sophia’s hand and drag her towards the stairs, but Sturgess was too quick for him. He got in front of the arch and swung his fist at Stephen, catching the boy on the side of his head and sending him staggering towards the broken corner of the tower. Sophia caught hold of him and pulled him away from the black edge and to her side.

Sturgess steadied himself and laughed. ‘Not so fast, Master Stephen. Let me see what you have given me.’ He scooped up his knife. ‘If it is another of Casper’s wooden copies I shall be very, very cross.’ He wagged the blade at them, then began to unwind the binding on the leather pouch.

Harriet saw the light on the top of the Pele tower and heard her son shout. Hardly able to think, she began to run up the stairs, feeling in her pockets for powder and ball. Her shoe slipped on the smooth stone and she fell heavily on her knee; the gun bounced out of her hand. It was so dark. She felt it again and grabbed hold of it, struggling up the remaining stairs, blinded by the night and her own desperate tears.

From where they sat huddled against the far wall Sophia and Stephen could only see the heavy gilt back of the Luck as Sturgess withdrew it from the pouch, but they could see his face change from delight to disbelief. He tossed the pouch aside.

‘What is this? Where are the jewels, you little bastard! What have you done with the jewels?’

He threw the Luck down onto the stone. It clattered and spun, then lay there glinting gold in the lamplight. Sophia and Stephen held each other more closely, staring at the bald cross, its surface pitted and scarred. It was far more like Casper’s wooden carvings than the cross in the museum picture. The same shape, but there were only indentations where the jewels had been.