Think of England

Holt hung his nightlight on a ledge, and now three light sources brightened the white stone chamber.Daniel was still bound, his terrified eyes were like two black holes in his tired face.Curtis looked down at him for a while before turning his gaze to the instigator of all this.

"I hope you're proud of what you've done," he said.

Holt looked at him in disbelief. "At least I'm not a bloody gay."

"But you're a blackmailer. A sadist."

"Murderer," Daniel screamed.

"Who did you kill?" Curtis moved his shoulders, confirmed that his Norfolk coat gave him enough range of motion, and then took a step to the side.This step caused a certain emotion to flash across Holt's face, as if eager to try.He wants to fight, Curtis thought to himself.

That's what he wanted.

Holt took off his coat, without taking his eyes off Curtis. "Just a few traitors. In fact, you should be happy."

"The men of Lafayette," Curtis began to walk in a circle, and saw that Holt imitated his movements, paying attention to his footwork. "You took them on and threatened them with the guns that went to Jacobsdale, didn't you?"

"Not me!" Holt sounded exasperated by the accusation. "Armstrong did it. I had nothing to do with this disgusting business."

"But you killed those who were coerced? Why?"

"They are traitors." Holt emphasized repeatedly, as if asking for approval, "and they are morally corrupt. Those disgusting beasts are good at women, and they especially like young girls. They are simply vile. They deserve death."

"I agree with that. How did you deal with them?" Curtis pretended to be concerned, "Throw them into the sinkhole?"

"To the center of the earth. This hole is too useful as a dump. Didn't I tell you? No one knows how deep it is." Under the reflection of the kerosene lamp and the white stone wall, Holt's eyes sparkled, "I Going to throw the Jew alive tonight, he's screaming like a little girl, I wonder how long he can last."

Out of fear, Daniel let out a bestial whine.Curtis adjusted his body weight and stretched his fingers.Holt shook his head. "You really want to fight me for him? My God, I never dreamed that you are such a person, Curtis. You come from the upper class, you are both a soldier and an athlete, and you like this kind of dirty business, you Don't you feel ashamed?"

"No." Curtis gritted his teeth and answered.He took a few steps closer to Holt, who raised his fist and laughed.

"It's a pity. I would like to have a little trial with you, but crushing a cripple is not winning fairness."

"Worry about yourself." Curtis wanted to say that, but his tongue didn't work and his voice sounded out of tune.He looked down, his hands trembling under the light of the night light.

Holt's smile disappeared. "Don't be afraid." He said disappointedly, "Isn't it? Are you afraid of a fight? War made you a coward? Damn it, I expected you to inspire my fighting spirit, but you did too. A coward. What's there to compare to? I'd rather find a Jew and kick him to death, and at least have some fun."

Curtis rushed towards him at this moment.

His uncle's writer friend, Quatermain, had lavished on Sir Henry Curtis's Viking lineage and the berserker spirit he had awakened in battle.Curtis thought this way of looking at things was comically romantic.If someone asked him to describe his fury on the battlefield, he would not say what kind of berserker's soul it was, and a more appropriate description would be "killer".

There is no cloud of blood that blinds the eyes, no moment of loss of mind, and not even the usual anger.Instead, he feels only detachment and sadistic ecstasy from the use of violence.He charged forward and saw Holt raise his fist in the standard stance, as if thinking they were going to fight like athletes, but he punched Holt in the crotch.Hort relied on his excellent reaction speed to avoid the blow, he jumped back a step, and was about to speak when Curtis' expression made him vigilant, and he stopped wasting his energy to speak.

Then they got into a rough melee, and the Queensberry Boxing Rules[1] were thrown aside.Both of them were constantly slipping on the wet stone, knowing that one misstep could mean defeat.They were about the same height and weight, and Huot got the boxing blue based on his strength. He maintained his body shape properly, not only had sound hands, but also ensured that he made good use of this advantage.He kept attacking on the right side of Curtis, and Curtis had to use his crippled and weak right hand, and every time he punched, he felt excruciating pain.

But Curtis has been in the army for eight years, and he has been fighting for his life with his opponents. He knows what will happen to Daniel if he loses this time; more importantly, his heart is completely killed by coldness. Desire takes over.He pressed on, ignoring the blow on him and the pain from his fist, and he threw an uppercut, watching Holt's hate-filled mouth spurt blood.

Holt slipped and fell to the ground.Curtis stepped forward, raised his leg and was about to kick his opponent's head away like a football, but a small inconspicuous hole in the ground almost caused him to sprain his ankle. He staggered a bit, but quickly regained his balance.

Holt scrambled to his overcoat on the rock and pulled out a dagger.

Curtis raised his head and laughed loudly, and the laughter hit the stone wall.It was a perfect farce.Daniel would definitely find it funny after watching this scene.Holt stood up straight and brandished the blade. After expressing his sense of superiority as a British, he actually resorted to the so-called southern European tricks. Curtis wanted to ask him if he saw how ironic the whole thing was.

Holt charged at him with a knife.Curtis blocked with his right arm, the blade slicing through his clothes and leaving a gash in his skin, but it also meant that Curtis's left hand was clear, and he hit Holt head-on where he had just received an uppercut .The fierce attack would definitely blur Holt's vision for a moment, and Curtis took the opportunity to control Holt's knife-holding hand with his left hand.He twisted around and hugged Holt, wrapped his right hand around Holt's neck forcefully, and strangled him tightly.

Holt coughed and struggled.Curtis leaned back, using his own body weight to restrain the opponent, and pressed his fingers into Holt's wrist until the opponent finally couldn't hold the dagger.He grabbed Holt's chin with his free left hand and twisted it hard. As the opponent stopped resisting, he heard a crisp sound.

He let go and turned away before Holt's body fell.

Daniel lay on the edge of the rock and stared at him, his eyes staring into big, black holes.He looked terrified.

"Holt is dead." Curtis tried to explain, as if it wasn't obvious enough.He still couldn't speak clearly, so he fetched Holt's dagger, which had a much sharper edge than his jackknife, and cut Daniel's thick rope in two or two strokes.

Daniel struggled to stay away from the rock.Curtis knelt to help him break free from the rope, they were both shaking.

Daniel is just too cold.It must be.

Curtis returned to Holt's body, and with his unskilled fingers, took it off to nothing but his underwear.He had no choice but to pile the dry clothes on the body and go back to help Daniel undress.

He couldn't be of much help either.His wrists were covered with red marks, his fingers were gray and swollen, and he would suffer later, Curtis thought.He carefully took off Daniel's water-soaked dinner jacket and suit, ignoring the buttons and ripping open his shirt—he seemed to have left something behind, but he couldn't remember.He stripped the drenched and trembling man one by one, and then dried him as much as possible with Holt's underwear.It was only when his hands rested on Daniel's cold, damp skin that his sanity finally fully recovered.

He took a deep breath. "My God." His voice was hoarse.

"Curtis?" Daniel called him in a low voice, his big eyes filled with fear.

"God." He blinked, trying to drive away the remaining anger. "Damn. I, uh..."

Daniel wanted to say something, but he wobbled and nearly fell, and Curtis held him steady, holding him tightly even though he was still naked, and didn't let go until he regained his sense of balance.He fetched Holt's clothes and helped Daniel put them on awkwardly, his fingers swollen like sausages, but still better than the other's hands.The sight of Daniel's hands losing their former dexterity almost brought back his rage.

Holt's clothes were obviously too big, but better than too small.He fastened his trousers tightly around Daniel's slender waist with a belt, and buttoned his Norfolk coat and heavy overcoat.Holt's shoes were too big, and Daniel had to wear his soaked dinner shoes, but he stuffed Holt's socks into his pocket, and they had to find a place to dry their feet.

He threw Daniel's changed clothes into the sinkhole, then the rope and Holt's shoe, leaving behind the dagger.Finally he dragged the body to the sinkhole.

Daniel let out a whimper from his throat.Curtis said, "Close your eyes." Because he was sure that Daniel didn't need to witness the scene of a corpse disappearing into a deep well.He cast Holt into darkness.

Then he led Daniel out of the cave.

At the entrance they had to stop for Curtis to put the kerosene lamp back in place and find another dry stone.Daniel sat down weakly, Curtis carefully dried his feet with a handkerchief, and then put Holt's thick socks on him.

Holt came by bicycle.The performance of this off-road vehicle is good, but with Curtis unable to grasp it with his right hand and Daniel at most half awake, the bicycle is useless.After thinking about it, Curtis said to Daniel, "Wait a minute, I'll be right back." He led the car back to the cave.Throwing the car down the sinkhole and letting it rest on top of the body didn't seem right, but he had no other choice, so he dropped the car anyway.

Maybe Holt is still falling now.

When he came back, Daniel was already curled up, his arms tightly wrapped around himself.Curtis looked at his soaked shoes and his face, and said, "Hold tight," then tied the shoes around his neck with shoelaces, and hugged Daniel.

The journey has not been easy.Daniel wasn't big, but he was nearly six feet tall, and it didn't take long for him to lose consciousness and become dead heavy.Curtis was uneasily aware that a single fall on the gravel could kill his knee.The fact that it lasted this long is remarkable enough.Maybe the doctor was right and he should use his knees more, although that's probably not the kind of exercise the doctor was referring to.

He walked step by step on the moonlit road, and Daniel lay weak and heavy in his arms.His right hand was in excruciating pain and he could feel the blood running down his forearm where Holt had stabbed him, but he had no idea what to do now.

It was nearly three o'clock in the morning.He couldn't have moved faster holding Daniel.The Armstrongs were probably waiting for Holt to go back.Will James come and check?

Where should he go?

The only telephone for miles around was in Bigholm, and Newcastle was thirty miles away.And he had to warm Daniel up.He could call for help if there was a grazing lodge or farmhouse nearby, but as far as he could see there was nothing on the bare ground level; he knew all too well the dangers of diving into the enemy camp for cover.

The thought reminded him of the abandoned farm they had found on an isolated knoll when they were crawling through the bushes of Boer land, looking for a place to hide. Several of his men were able to retreat...

The hillside can be used to watch the ruins of the surrounding stone walls.

Is this a brilliant idea, or a poor choice?He doesn't know either.He hoped that Daniel would wake up and answer his questions, and he also hoped that Daniel would wake up and walk by himself, but since the other party was still asleep, Curtis could only grit his teeth and persevere, step by step, walking two miles back with difficulty. to Bigholm.

He arrived at the destination at 04:30 and was in pain all over his body.At the time of the last observation, there were no lights in the villa.He had to make his way around the bushes to the tower so as not to be caught through the windows, but he reasonably assumed that no gardener would spot him at this point in time.Carrying Daniel's weight up the last slope before the tower was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.He staggered, defying gravity and exhaustion with every step, and finally reached the door, opened it awkwardly with both hands, and brought Daniel inside.

He half-dragged and half-hugged Daniel up the winding stairs, then slumped exhausted on the oak floor.He lays the other man down next to him before allowing his muscles to grumble aloud.

After a few minutes, the blood finally stopped rumbling in his ears. He checked Daniel's condition, and it felt much warmer to the touch.Their warm contact helped, and Holt's bulky overcoat was warm enough.He checked Daniel's wrist and found that his fingers had also returned to normal, Curtis was relieved.

"Daniel?" he murmured.

Daniel's breathing was deep and steady.He lay heavily in Curtis' arms. Curtis didn't know if he was qualified to do so, but he still hesitantly ran his fingers across Daniel's face. He touched down along the eyebrows, through the cheeks and then to the chin, Finish boldly across the lips.

Curtis didn't expect the other party to wake up, but Daniel's eyelids trembled and he groaned softly.Curtis cursed his selfishness in his heart. "It's okay," he whispered, "You are safe, go to sleep."

Daniel's lips moved, his eyes opened after a few blinks, and he twitched uncontrollably.Curtis grabs him to keep him from struggling, but quickly realizes it was the wrong move because Daniel starts crying.He puts his hand over Daniel's mouth, feeling him stiffen with fear, he's such a jerk.

"I'm Curtis, you're safe. Stop screaming, damn it! It's okay, I'm here. Stop." He suppressed his voice, and Daniel finally fell back into his arms.He moves his hand away.

"Curtis?"

"I'm here."

"Curtis," Daniel repeated, as if finally satisfied.He closed his eyes, Curtis thought he was going to sleep, but he was silent for a moment, and then said: "I'm in that cave."

"Don't think about that any more."

"It's dark in the cave. Still—and dripping, forever. And the hole—" His voice trembled.

"Stop talking, it's all over."

"You came to see me."

"Of course I'll come to you."

Daniel was silent for a longer moment before he said, "Did you kill Huot?"

"Correct."

"I don't like violence. Violence doesn't solve problems."

Curtis shrugged.At least this time the violence effectively solved the problem.Daniel moved closer to him, murmured something Curtis couldn't hear clearly, and fell asleep again after a few seconds.

Curtis leaned his head against the cold stone wall, half lying on the hardwood floor, Daniel pressed him heavily, making him feel warm and at ease.He pampered himself for a while before turning back to reflect on the situation.

He had to get Daniel out.Holt will be absent today.He grimly thought that if Armstrong wanted to do something to Daniel again, he would risk his life to stop him, but if they shot him at him, he might really cost his life.

Had his hands been intact, he would have stolen one from the Armstrongs' car.Maybe he could still do it now, but starting the engine with a broken window would make a lot of noise, and it would take him time to get Daniel into the car.And he was completely unsure of being able to grasp the steering wheel with his index finger and thumb, driving at high speed on the winding and rough road.They would certainly be pursued, but he wasn't fast enough to throw off the pursuers.

He will not consider this option unless it is absolutely necessary.But does he have other options?He could try to make a phone call—if the hosts maintained their façade of hospitality, he could ask them to drive him to Newcastle and call from there—but that would mean leaving Daniel alone in the tower.

Daniel twitched.Curtis pressed his brow soothingly, and then realized that the temperature was abnormally high.

God, what if he was sick?After being immersed in the water all day, it is not surprising to catch a cold.

He needs food, water, and blankets, and he has to get them before everyone in the villa wakes up.He also needs a gun.From here he was going to call his uncle for reinforcements, no matter the risk, and after that... well, he could retreat to the tower if necessary and use it as a defensive base, no matter how long it took.

While Curtis was thinking in his mind, he gently moved Daniel away from himself.He looked around quickly and was delighted to find that there was still a picnic blanket in the old wooden cabinet.He tried his best to make the sleeping man as comfortable and warm as possible, and quietly left the building after murmuring a few words to reassure him.Daniel certainly couldn't bolt the door behind him, but with no allies, no supply and no lines of communication, Curtis was down to luck.

It's not the first time he's been alone.It might be the last time, but he's definitely going to give it a go.

As he thought so, he only walked a few steps when he heard a movement, someone was climbing up the hillside.

The surrounding area of ​​the building is empty, hiding behind the tower will only look more suspicious, it is better to go forward.If he had to confront him head-on, he would have to deal with the intruder the same way he dealt with Holt.

He also took a few steps forward as the visitor approached, moving his fingers and clenching his fists, and then saw that it was Miss Morton.

"Hi, Mr. Curtis," she said, walking towards him, waving cheerfully. "I thought I was the only one here taking a morning walk. It's a lovely day, isn't it?" She frowned as she noticed his state. "Are you all right?"

Curtis didn't hesitate, "Did you come alone?"

"That's right...?"

"Miss Morton, by God, I am now asking for help from another gunman as a gunman, please help me."

***

Miss Morton straightened up from Daniel's side. She watched him lose consciousness, and then looked up at Curtis.

"Well, I guess he doesn't have a fever at least," she said, "it's just that the body reacts a little weirdly with this level of wind chill, and you've got to keep him warm and safe. I'm assuming you've got your words right? "

"Indeed. I've seen the pictures with my own eyes. And he was tied to a rock just now—"

She raised a hand. "I'm not doubting you, I'm just thinking about how we should go next."

"If you could get us something to eat—"

"It's not enough." Miss Morton shook her head decisively. "In my opinion, we have three problems now: we have to ensure the safety of Mr. Da Silva, call for help from the outside world, and we must not alert the Armstrong family until the reinforcements arrive. Very good, then I think our first The first step is to tell Fern about it."

"Miss Carus?" Curtis asked suspiciously.God, doesn't this woman understand the seriousness of this matter?

She gave him a pitiful smile. "I guess Mr. da Silva is far less affected than he usually pretends to be?"

"Much worse."

"Then you shouldn't trust Fen's silly girl appearance." She frowned and thought, "Why don't I declare that I'm going to explore the swamp alone, and then ask the kitchen for some supplies. I can take a few guns until evening You can stay here. That way I can attend to the sick while you and Fern figure out a way to call. You can come back in the evening and take my place. If you two haven't been near the tower all day, of course no one will suspect that it's here. .how?"

No.Curtis didn't want to leave Daniel's side at all.He wanted to be the one who stayed behind.But if he didn't go back, Huot didn't show up, and Daniel in the cave disappeared, the people in the villa would definitely be wary.Miss Morton was competent in the role of caretaker, and he trusted her even though it had only happened by chance.

"The Armstrongs are tough guys," Curtis warned her. "Especially James. The secret we discovered is equivalent to a death sentence for them. I don't think they will hesitate before killing them."

"I don't think so either." Miss Morton's tone was completely matter-of-fact, "but the war cost me two siblings, and I can't forgive those who betray their secrets to the enemy and betray the country. I'm sick, and Fern thinks the same. You wait here for me a while, and I'll tell everybody I saw you go for your morning walk, and you'll be back for breakfast."

She walked away firmly.After she left, Curtis locked the door and returned to Daniel.

His face was flushed, his hair was disheveled, and he was very fragile.His lips parted slightly, but he didn't put up his usual sarcastic and artificial defenses.Unprepared, this is his current state, Curtis clenched his fists because of this thought.If James Armstrong happened to pass by, he would be more than happy to fight him now.

The knock on the door an hour later came from Miss Morton, dressed for mobility, carrying a fine Hollander and a backpack.She raised her bag. "Eat and drink, and I left him a revolver. I'll watch him, and you can go. I've informed Fern."

"Please be very careful, will you? Take care of him for me. Thank you, Miss Morton."

"As long as you take care of Fern, you don't have to worry about us," she said with a half-smile, "and I think you can call me Pat in that case."

[1] In 1867, the Marquess of Queensberry revised the rules of the boxing game, which consisted of 3 articles, including the fact that wrestling and hugging were not allowed in the game, and each round was limited to [-] minutes, etc.