The Devil's Gentlemen

Chapter IV

It wasn't the most ingenious plan he had concocted, but what made this plan of his stand out from the others he had contemplated and discarded when he didn't like was a planned he deemed eminently outlandish. What Cain liked about the plan he had chosen to execute guaranteed the element of surprise and it offered Cain a chance to scare the entire household so he could make his brilliant escape and make haste for London and find Riff. Then he would deal with his father who the young earl had matters to settle with before any more time passed.

It was just that his plan relied heavily on time and on the right moment. Cain wasn't patient. He had never been and it was hard for him to have any when so much was at stake. He was dreading the hour when his uncle would barge into his room and inform him he had done away with Riff, having his neck stretched and being displayed publicly in front of the Tower of London. The mere thought sent a bitter chill down his spine.

Cain had everything ready for his escape. The arsenic was in reach, the bronze paste polisher had been conveniently left by the foolish maid in her haste and a box of strike on matches was housed safely in his coat. All the elements of his escape were in his hands, only time was his enemy.

With a restless sigh, Cain looked over to the clock and read the time to be six o' clock in the afternoon. Things had been uneventful for the past week in the country-house. The only exciting thing had been the rain that came on its own accord. How lucky of the rain!

Other then that all was commonplace and it was driving Cain mad with boredom. When he had been little and Riff would read him a story before going to bed, he had always imaged from what Riff told him that being held captive would bring about some danger, any kind, just as long as it was daring and thrilling and made the blood rush. But the only danger Cain had to face was getting a concussion from all the times he'd banged his head on his desk.

Riff…

His mere name triggered thoughts of happier times that sweep through Cain's mind. How he missed him dreadfully! His lukewarm touch and those rare smiles he only showed to him. They were like secrets that only they knew about. Cain missed it all. Not bearing the silence around him anymore, Cain swiftly stood up from the settee and sauntered to the bookcase decorating a large portion of the room. They had once been touched and read by the former Earl Hargreaves, Alexis.

Pushing aside the bitter thought, Cain picked a random book from the shelves and skimmed through it, not intending to read a single word only to provide him with something to do. He snapped it shut and slid it back into its resting place. But it wouldn't fit perfectly as it had a second ago. Cain frowned, pulled out the book again and heard the faintest click, the bookcase suddenly giving way and opening slightly. Intrigued by his discovery, Cain placed the book on a small table and walking over to the fireplace; he grabbed a candle and proceeded to explore the secret passageway.

From the many times he had visited the country-house, he had never been aware of this secret location which was odd considering he had been sure he had left no nook or cranny unexplored. Deeming it of no importance now, Cain pushed open the bookcase and went inside. The small flame of the candle illuminated enough for him to walk inside without running into anything.

His footsteps resounded and bounced off the walls, giving the impression the passageway wounded deep underground the house. Minutes passed and the only thing he felt were the moist walls on either side of him, making him feel as if he were locked within a catacomb. Cain looked behind him and saw the light coming from the fireplace in his room was but a small speck of light. He really was trotting into uncharted areas of the house.

He was more excited then scared as he continued down the passageway. The blood in his veins coursed swiftly through his body and made his heart pound against his chest. At last after walking in the dark like a blind man, Cain saw the hazy shape of a door in front of him. He stopped before it, lightly touching the damp door with his fingertips. The hinges were oxidized and clearly gave the appearance the door had not been disturbed in many years, possibly the last time had been seventeen years ago before his birth.

Cain reached out and turned the doorknob and gave it a push forward but it wouldn't dislodge from its inertness. Again he gave it a push until it finally opened with a loud screech. He covered the candle's flame with his hand as he peeked inquisitively inside the room. With a thorough sweep of his melancholy eccentric eyes that were all the envy of those who saw them, much to his astonishment Cain deduced he was in the cellar. Seeing no one around, he stepped inside and placed the candle on a barrel and searched the room.

In front of him was the door that led upstairs to the kitchen, behind him was the door he had just stepped out of, concealed by large barrels of wine and finally to his right there was another door, also obscured by stacked wooden crates and boxes all gathering dust. All this he logged into his mind, archiving for later use if need be. Silently Cain crept towards the door to his left and unlocked it as quietly as he could.

With less noise then the previous door, the door succumbed to the earl's command and opened into the eastern side of the gardens, the same gardens Cain saw each time he looked out his windows in his room. A smug smile broke out across his lips; the gentle breeze of evening lightly running through his hair and giving him a taste of freedom. He could have stayed there all night, better yet escaped, but the clattering of dishes being washed and meals being prepared for the evening meal brought Cain out of his reveries.

Cain quickly closed the door leading to the outside world, fastened it and hurried on silent feet back down the passageway with the door locked behind him and returned to his room, re-sealing the bookcase and all the while still smiling. He numbly picked up the book he had left on the table and sat down on the settee with it in his hands.

It was a very pleasant and curious discovery he had made that would come in handy soon.

As much as the thought of forging his death and being placed in a coffin and expected to be the next cadaver for some beginning physician to practice on made Riff uneasy, he knew it was the only way that ensure his freedom. Before returning him to his cell/hell, Jizabel gave Riff a small capsule, a similar one he had used on his first meeting with Cain and Riff. He told Riff to place it on his last tooth on the top row and to bite down on it to give him the appearance of rigid mortis.

The good doctor explained everything clearly and painted an accurate picture for Riff and what he should expect. Jizabel gave him the order to bite down on the capsule of poison at precisely eight o' clock subsequently three days after their meeting. Seeing the dubious look on Riff's face, Jizabel reassured him that he would be called by the owner of the asylum to come collect him and take him to the mortuary at the nearby hospital.

It seemed like a promising plan, but it was also compromising. There was always the risk of something going wrong and discovery. Again Jizabel had a remedy to ease Riff's uncertainty.

"You're in an asylum Riff; they'll blame whatever happens on your insanity. If you die they will think you committed suicide or bleed yourself to death if they're not complete idiots. Almost everything is in your favour of escaping. It all depends on how enthusiastic you are of escaping." The doctor's words still rang clear three days after he had said them. It was finally the time for action to be taken and the plan executed.

Riff had counted the hours, minutes and seconds, all his hopes hanging on a thin string that would snap at any moment. He was enthusiastic of escaping, it was just…things hadn't seemed to be in his favour anymore.

He ran his tongue over the upper row of his teeth and felt for the capsule lodged safely on his last tooth, waiting like he was for the stroke of eight o' clock to be announced from the nearby church. The minute and the hour hand were drawing nearer to the awaiting hour he had been yearning to come swifter. Each tick of the minute hand was the same rhythm Riff's heart pulsated against his aching chest.

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

Riff bit down on the capsule at exactly eight o' clock and soon fell into pretence of death. His expression softened and all traces of weariness and pain were replaced with a peacefulness that really did make him look like he was asleep for an eternal slumber. The eight-fifteen guard would be coming about to check on the patients and discovery Riff's body and curse Lady Death for taking yet another madman whose friends or family paid for their incarceration.

Now it was a matter of waiting for Jizabel to keep his promise and come for him.

Another update! Sorry it took so long. My life is nothing but school, tests, and writing assignments. But none of that can keep me from writing this story!

I would liked to thank Sorryll for pointing out to me that 'Jezebel'…means prostitute which is very interesting...So that would mean 'Jizabel' is the right way to write the good doctor's name, right? We'll just go with that. But really thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! Each one was so encouraging and made my day.