Part 13 (1/2)

Her heart beat to suffocation in the thought that at any moment the other door might be dashed open, and some ruffian suddenly come in and s.n.a.t.c.h away her precious treasure. What a mercy it was that she had thought of secreting it like this! Here it was under her hand. She was already wrapped in her cloak; her precious package was in her arms, she was about to run down the little stairs again, when, to her horror, she heard rough voices in the parlour below, and the sound of oaths as the men called one to another in their hasty search.

”'Tisn't here! There's nothing here worth laying hands on. They must have hid it somewhere. Let's be off upstairs. Here's another staircase.

Let's see where that leads to!”

Charlotte darted back into her room again, and drew the little bolt across it. But that would only give her a moment's respite, she knew.

One or two heavy blows would bring the door cras.h.i.+ng inwards; and what then? She could not fly out by the other one, down the main staircase, without encountering the man on guard at the hall-door. The sight of her precious package would be certain to attract their instant attention, and they had threatened with death all who strove to resist their project of robbery.

But if she were to give up the valuables? Then she might well escape.

They had no personal quarrel with her; and n.o.body had told her to const.i.tute herself the guard of the family property. For one brief instant, Charlotte hesitated; then, with a snort of contempt at her own cowardly thought, she dashed open the window, threw her precious package down into the garden beneath, and herself vaulted lightly after it.

She had performed this feat occasionally before, in the days of her tom-boy pranks with her brothers, but she had not often practised such a leap of late, and the darkness made it more difficult. She was conscious of a sharp thrill of pain in her foot as she reached the ground, but, striving not to think of this, she caught up her bundle and fled; a light instantly flas.h.i.+ng from the window of the room she had quitted, showed her that she had only just made her spring in time.

With a heart that thumped so loud in her ears as to deaden all other sound, Charlotte sped onwards as fast as the injured foot would allow over the rough ground that separated her home from that of her friends.

But, in a few moments, she was certain that she was pursued. She heard angry, threatening voices in the garden behind her. Glancing back she saw flas.h.i.+ng lights, and through the still night air came the sound of curses, which bespoke very real disappointment. Evidently, the men had heard of the cash-box to be found in Mr. Honeyman's house, and were enraged that it was not forthcoming.

”Somebody has taken it and made off!” cried a stentorian voice. ”After him, men!--scatter, and scour the place. He can't have got far! Blow out his brains if he resists. That money I will have. I don't come all this way on a fool's errand!”

[Ill.u.s.tration: Suddenly, close above her, the steps came to a dead stop.

_Page 145._]

Charlotte heard, and instantly was aware of flying footsteps in many directions, some coming her way. What could she do? Try as she would her progress was not rapid. The distance to the Feas' house, so short on ordinary days, now seemed endless. There were no trees to give cover.

That windswept island was bare of any save stunted bushes, and even of these there were none to serve her purpose. If the moon should s.h.i.+ne out she would instantly be seen. She was not certain that some of those fierce shouts did not mean that she had been seen already.

Breathless and terrified, but still clutching her treasure tightly, Charlotte made for a great hole in the bank that she had known from childhood. Into this friendly, yawning chasm she crept, pus.h.i.+ng her bundle before her, and here she crouched in darkness, covered by the folds of her sombre cloak, expecting almost moment by moment to feel a rough hand pulling her forth, or the threat of a bullet through her brain if she did not instantly give up her treasure.

Footsteps came nearer and nearer. She shrank closer and closer into her hole. She felt her flesh creep as the ground shook beneath the heavy tread; it was all she could do to keep from uttering a cry. The horror of that approaching discovery was so very real to her.

Suddenly, close above her, the steps came to a dead stop. She had been discovered! She knew she had! Her senses almost forsook her. It was a moment that she never forgot. Then a voice spoke, a rough, raucous voice:

”You'd best come back. It's no good staying here. They're coming out from that other house with lights and servants. They've got wind of something up, and the sooner we get off with what we've found the better.”

A sudden rebound of feeling made Charlotte almost cry aloud. And as she strained her ears to hear, the heavy tread of feet shook the ground once more, now in full retreat. A few minutes later, limping in her gait, her face as white as death, her dress covered with sand, her hands still grasping the bundle that held the treasure, Charlotte almost fell into Mr. Fea's fatherly arms, and told him all her tale.

”I don't know what Mr. Honeyman will say when he hears how near his little girl went to losing her life for the sake of some valuables,” he said, as he led her into the house; ”but one thing I know: he will be mighty proud of having such a heroine for a daughter.”

”If he doesn't think I was only a little goose,” panted Charlotte, beginning to look like herself. ”But, oh, I am glad those wretches have not got the things! And are you sure they have hurt n.o.body?”

That was the end of Charlotte's personal exploit with the pirates; but there were many exciting days to follow, for in trying to get their vessel away quickly, they put out on a stormy night, and were driven ash.o.r.e in the bay called Calf Sound, not far from the houses of Mr.

Honeyman and Mr. Fea. There, after much effort and some little stratagem, the crew was finally captured, and Gow met his richly deserved fate and perished on the gallows.

MARY BRIDGES

”Eleanor! Sister! There be days when I know not how to bear it. I feel that I shall do something desperate.”

”Nay, hush, Mary! hus.h.!.+ why shouldst thou speak so wildly? We must be patient! Things will not always be so black!”