Part 21 (2/2)
Carrington shoved Martha from him, so that she staggered and fell; and with a bound he was through the door that led into Martha's room.
The negro woman did not move. She sat on the floor, a malicious grin on her face, listening to Carrington as he raged through the house.
Once, about five minutes after he left, Carrington returned and stuck his head into the room. Martha still sat where Carrington had thrown her. She did not care what Carrington did to the house, so long as he was ignorant of the existence of the trap-door.
And Carrington did not notice the door. For an hour Martha heard him raging around the house, opening and slamming doors and overturning furniture. Once when she did not hear him for several minutes, she got up and went to one of the windows. She saw him, out at the stable, looking in at the horses.
Then he returned to the house, and Martha resumed her place on the floor. Later, she heard Carrington enter the house again, and after that she heard Parsons' voice, raised in high-terrored protest. Then there was another silence. Again Martha looked out of a window. This time she saw Carrington on his horse, riding away.
But for half an hour Martha remained at the window. She feared Carrington's departure was a subterfuge, and she was not mistaken. For a little later Carrington returned, riding swiftly. He slid from his horse at a little distance from the house and ran toward it. Martha was in the kitchen when he came in. He did not speak to her as he came into the room, but pa.s.sed her and again made a search of the house. Pa.s.sing Martha again he gave her a malevolent look, then halted at the outside door.
The man's wild rage seemed to have left him; he was calm-polite, even.
”Tell your mistress I am sorry for what has occurred. I am afraid I was a bit excited. I shall not harm her; I won't bother her again.”
He stepped through the doorway and, going again to a window and drawing back the curtain slightly, Martha watched him.
Carrington went to the stable, entered, and emerged again presently, leading two horses-Parsons' horse and Billy. He led the animals to where his own horse stood, climbed into the saddle and rode away, the two horses following. At the edge of the wood he turned and looked back.
Then the darkness swallowed him.
For another half-hour Martha watched the Dawes trail from a window. Then she drew a deep breath and went into Marion's room, standing under the trap-door.
”I reckon you kin come down now, honey-he's gone.”
A little later, with Marion standing near her in the room, the light from the kerosene-lamp streaming upon them through the shattered door, Martha was speaking rapidly:
”He acted mighty suspicious, honey; an' he's up to some dog's trick, shuah as you'm alive. You got to git out of heah, honey-mighty quick!
'Pears he thinks you is hid somewhares around heah, an' he's figgerin'
on makin' you stay heah. An' if you wants to git away, you's got to walk, for he's took the hosses!” She shook her head, her eyes wide with a reflection of the complete stupefaction that had descended upon her.
”Laws A'mighty, what a ragin' devil that man is, honey! I'se seen men _an'_ men-an' I knowed a n.i.g.g.e.r once that was--”
But Martha paused, for Marion was paying no attention to her. The girl was pulling some articles of wearing apparel from some drawers, packing them hurriedly into a small handbag, and Martha sprang quickly to help her, divining what the girl intended to do.
”That's right, honey; doan you stay heah in this house another minit!
You git out as quick as you kin. You go right over to that Squint man's house an' tell him to protect you. 'Cause you's goin' to need protection, honey-an' don't you forgit it!”
The girl's white face was an eloquent sign of her conception of the danger that confronted her. But she spoke no word while packing her handbag. When she was ready she turned to the door, to confront Martha, who also carried a satchel. Together the two went out of the house, crossed the level surrounding it, and began to descend the long slope that led down into the mighty basin in which, some hours before, the girl had seen the pin-point of light glimmering across the sea of darkness toward her. And toward that light, as toward a beacon that promised a haven from a storm, she went, Martha following.
From a window of the house a man watched them-Parsons-in the grip of a paralyzing terror, his pallid face pressed tightly against the gla.s.s of the window as he watched until he could see them no longer.
CHAPTER XVII-THE WRONG ANKLE
Bud Hemmingway, the tall, red-faced young puncher who had a.s.sisted Quinton Taylor in the sprained-ankle deception, saw the dawn breaking through one of the windows of the bunkhouse when he suddenly opened his eyes after dreaming of steaming flapjacks soaked in the sirup he liked best. He stretched out on his back in the wall-bunk and licked his lips.
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