Through Russian Snows by G. A. Henty Page B

there was no direct evidence either
way. There could be no doubt he would have to remain under a cloud of
suspicion. It was bad enough before, but this would be altogether
intolerable, and it was perhaps best, after all, that he was to be taken
away, and his future decided for him.
    He should have gone anyhow, and no doubt he would be able to get some
opportunity of writing to Frank and setting his mind at rest as to his
safety, and telling him something about what had happened, and that he
had been kidnapped and carried over to France. He had acted like a fool,
no doubt, but Frank would understand why he had followed his first
impulse and gone alone after the man who committed the murder, instead
of going to the constables and telling them that some unknown man had
killed the magistrate. One thing seemed certain, he should never be able
to go back to Weymouth again unless the affair was cleared up, and he
did not see how that ever could be.
    At this point Julian's thoughts became confused. The voices of the men
talking at the table seemed to get further and further away, and then he
was conscious of nothing more until he heard a bell tinkle faintly
somewhere overhead. There was a movement in the cave, and he sat up. All
the men went out by the upper door. When they had left he got up and
went to see if the lower door was so fastened that he could not open it.
He had no idea of breaking his word, but did so out of curiosity rather
than from any other feeling. He found that the bolts could be pulled
back, but that the lock was a very strong one, and the jamb was, at the
point where the bolt shot into it, covered with a piece of iron, so that
no instrument could be used for forcing back the bolt.
    "It may be," he thought, "that some other prisoner has been confined
here at some time or other, or possibly this has been done in order that
if the trap-door above should be found, and the revenue men come down
that way, the smugglers in their flight might lock the door behind them
and so have time to get away in a boat or along at the foot of the
cliffs before their pursuers could get down to the lower entrance and
open fire upon them."
    Then he lay down again. He wondered whether the pull of the bell he had
heard could be hidden in the grass like the handle of the trap. It might
only be a very small knob, but he had looked so closely among the
bushes that he wondered it had escaped him. In three or four minutes the
French captain came down again, and walked across to where he was lying:
    " Pauvre diable! " he muttered, and then went back to the table, filled
himself a glass of spirits and water, and lit his pipe. A moment later a
thought seemed to strike him, and he came across to Julian again and
touched him. He at once sat up. The Frenchman motioned him to come to
the table, went to a cupboard, brought out a wooden platter with a large
lump of cold beef and a loaf of bread and some cheese, poured him out a
horn of brandy and water, and motioned him to eat. Julian attacked the
food vigorously. He had had some lunch with his friends before starting
for his walk back to Weymouth, but that had been nearly seven hours
before, and his run across the hills in the keen air had given him a
sharp appetite, so he did full justice to the food.
    "This is not a bad fellow after all," he said to himself, as the
smuggler, when he had finished, brought out a box of cigars and placed
it before him. "He would have knocked me on the head without
compunction, in the way of business; but now when he has concluded that
I am not dangerous, he comes out as a good fellow." He nodded pleasantly
to the Frenchman as he lit the cigar, which was an excellent one, and
far better than any Julian had been accustomed to smoke with his
associates in the billiard room.
    The Frenchman's thoughts were not dissimilar to his own. "He is a brave garçon ," he said to himself, "and makes the best of things. He is a
fine-looking fellow, too, and will be a big man in another