Green Fancy Part 28

Her breathing was like sobs,--short and choking,--but he knew she was not crying. Apprehension, alarm, excitement,--anything but hysteria.

The fort.i.tude of generations was hers; a hundred forebears had pa.s.sed courage down to her.

On they stumbled, blindly, recklessly. He spared her many an injury by taking it himself. More than once she murmured sympathy when he crashed into a tree or floundered over a log. The soft, long-drawn "o-ohs!"

that came to his ears were full of a music that made him impervious to pain. They had the effect of martial music on him, as the drum and fife exalts the faltering soldier in his march to death.

Utterly at sea, he was now guessing at the course they were taking.

Whether their frantic dash was leading them toward the Tavern, or whether they were circling back to Green Fancy, he knew not. Panting, he forged onward, his ears alert not only for the sound of pursuit but for the shot that would end the career of the spectacular Sprouse.

At last she cried out, quaveringly:

"Oh, I--I can go no farther! Can't we--is it not safe to stop for a moment? My breath is--"

"G.o.d bless you, yes," he exclaimed, and came to an abrupt stop. She leaned heavily against him, gasping for breath. "I haven't the faintest idea where we are, but we must be some distance from the house. We will rest a few minutes and then take it easier, more cautiously. I am sorry, but it was the only thing to do, rough as it was."

"I know, I understand. I am not complaining, Mr. Barnes. You will find me ready and strong and--"

"Let me think. I must try to get my bearings. Good Lord, I wish Sprouse were here. He has eyes like a cat. He can see in the dark. We are off the path, that's sure."

"I hope he is safe. Do you think he escaped?"

"I am sure of it. Those whistles were sounding the alarm. There would have been no object in blowing them unless he had succeeded in getting out of the house. He may come this way. The chances are that your flight has not been discovered. They are too busy with him to think of you,--at least for the time being. Do you feel like going on? We must beat them to the Tavern. They--"

"I am all right now," she said, and they were off again. Barnes now picked his way carefully and with the greatest caution. If at times he was urged to increased speed through comparatively open s.p.a.ces it was because he realised the peril that lay at the very end of their journey: the likelihood of being cut off by the pursuers before he could lodge her safely inside of the walls. He could only pray that he was going in the right direction.

An hour,--but what seemed thrice as long,--pa.s.sed and they had not come to the edge of the forest. Her feet were beginning to drag; he could tell that by the effort she made to keep up with him. From time to time he paused to allow her to rest. Always she leaned heavily against him, seldom speaking; when she did it was to a.s.sure him that she would be all right in a moment or two. There was no sentimental motive behind his action when he finally found it necessary to support her with an encircling arm, nor was she loath to accept this tribute of strength.

"You are plucky," he once said to her.

"I am afraid I could not be so plucky if you were not so strong," she sighed, and he loved the tired, whimsical little twist she put into her reply. It revived the delightful memory of another day.

To his dismay they came abruptly upon a region abounding in huge rocks.

This was new territory to him. His heart sank.

"By Jove, I--I believe we are farther away from the road than when we started. We must have been going up the slope instead of down."

"In any case, Mr. Barnes," she murmured, "we have found something to sit down upon."

He chuckled. "If you can be as cheerful as all that, we sha'n't miss the cus.h.i.+ons," he said, and, for the first time, risked a flash of the electric torch. The survey was brief. He led her forward a few paces to a flat boulder, and there they seated themselves.

"I wonder where we are," she said.

"I give it up," he replied dismally. "There isn't much sense in wandering over the whole confounded mountain, Miss Cameron, and not getting anywhere. I am inclined to suspect that we are above Green Fancy, but a long way off to the right of it. My b.u.mp of direction tells me that we have been going to the right all of the time.

Admitting that to be the case, I am afraid to retrace our steps. The Lord only knows what we might blunder into."

"I think the only sensible thing to do, Mr. Barnes, is to make ourselves as snug and comfortable as we can and wait for the first signs of daybreak."

He scowled,--and was glad that it was too dark for her to see his face.

He wondered if she fully appreciated what would happen to him if the pursuers came upon him in this forbidding spot. He could almost picture his own body lying there among the rocks and rotting, while she--well, she would merely go back to Green Fancy.

"I fear you do not realise the extreme gravity of the situation."

"I do, but I also realise the folly of thras.h.i.+ng about in this brush without in the least knowing where our steps are leading us. Besides, I am so exhausted that I must be a burden to you. You cannot go on supporting me--"

"We must get out of these woods," he broke in doggedly, "if I have to carry you in my arms."

"I shall try to keep going," she said quickly. "Forgive me if I seemed to falter a little. I--I--am ready to go on when you say the word."

"You poor girl! Hang it all, perhaps you are right and not I. Sit still and I will reconnoitre a bit. If I can find a place where we can hide among these rocks, we'll stay here till the sky begins to lighten.

Sit--"

"No! I shall not let you leave me for a second. Where you go, I go."

She struggled to her feet, suppressing a groan, and thrust a determined arm through his.

"That's worth remembering," said he, and whether it was a muscular necessity or an emotional exaction that caused his arm to tighten on hers, none save he would ever know.

After a few minutes prowling among the rocks they came to the face of what subsequently proved to be a sheer wall of stone. He flashed the light, and, with an exclamation, started back. Not six feet ahead of them the earth seemed to end; a yawning black gulf lay beyond.

Apparently they were on the very edge of a cliff.

"Good Lord, that was a close call," he gasped. He explained in a few words and then, commanding her to stand perfectly still, dropped to the ground and carefully felt his way forward. Again he flashed the light.

In an instant he understood. They were on the brink of a shallow quarry, from which, no doubt, the stone used in building the foundations at Green Fancy had been taken.

Lying there, he made swift calculations. There would be a road leading from this pit up to the house itself. The quarry, no longer of use to the builder, was reasonably sure to be abandoned. In all probability some sort of a stone-cutter's shed would be found nearby. It would provide shelter from the fine rain that was falling and from the chill night air. He remembered that O'Dowd, in discussing the erection of Green Fancy the night before, had said that the stone came from a pit two miles away, where a fine quality of granite had been found. The quarry belonged to Mr. Curtis, who had refused to consider any offer from would-be purchasers. Two miles, according to Barnes's quick calculations, would bring the pit close to the northern boundary of the Curtis property and almost directly on a line with the point where he and Sprouse entered the meadow at the beginning of their advance upon Green Fancy. That being the case, they were now quite close to the stake and rider fence separating the Curtis land from that of the farmer on the north. Sprouse and Barnes had hugged this fence during their progress across the meadow.

"Good," he said, more to himself than to her. "I begin to see light."

"Oh, dear! Is there some one down in that hole, Mr.--"

"Are you afraid to remain here while I go down there for a look around?

I sha'n't be gone more than a couple of minutes."

"The way I feel at present," she said, jerkily, "I shall never, never from this instant till the hour in which I die, let go of your coat-tails, Mr. Barnes." Suiting the action to the word, her fingers resolutely fastened, not upon the tail of his coat but upon his st.u.r.dy arm. "I wouldn't stay here alone for anything in the world."

"Heaven bless you," he exclaimed, suddenly exalted. "And, since you put it that way, I shall always contrive to be within arm's length."

And so, together, they ventured along the edge of the pit until they reached the wagon road at the bottom. As he had expected, there was a ramshackle shed hard by. It was not much of a place, but it was deserted and a safe shelter for the moment.

A workman's bench lay on its side in the middle of the earthen floor.

He righted it and drew it over to the boarding.... She laid her head against his shoulder and sighed deeply.... He kept his eyes glued on the door and listened for the first ominous sound outside. A long time afterward she stirred.

"Don't move," he said softly. "Go to sleep again if you can. I will--"

"Sleep? I haven't been asleep. I've been thinking all the time, Mr.

Barnes. I've been wondering how I can ever repay you for all the pain, and trouble, and--"

"I am paid in full up to date," he said. "I take my pay as I go and am satisfied." He did not give her time to puzzle it out, but went on hurriedly: "You were so still I thought you were asleep."

"As if I could go to sleep with so many things to keep me awake!" She s.h.i.+vered.

"Are you cold? You are wet--"