Part 24 (1/2)
The message was signed with my dear girl's initials, and it was plain that it had been written under stress of emotion. In spite of my equivocal position (for really I could not bring myself to believe that John Thaneford intended actual personal violence), and the extreme discomfort of being trussed up like a hog going to the slaughter pen, I was conscious that, after all these months of alienation, some mysterious barrier had fallen and the long misunderstanding was in a fair way of being cleared up. And so, although my temples were thumping like a steam engine and the pain in my arms and legs was deadening to a terrifying numbness, my spirits rebounded to an extravagant height; my heart sang again.
”If you still care for me!” And then that wonderful word: ”Coming.” I was wildly, deliriously happy, for now everything must come right. What a fool I had been through all these doleful months! how wholeheartedly would I make my confession; how tender and generous would be my absolution--but a sudden realization of things as they really were checked, like a cold douche, my satisfying glow of well-being. If danger actually existed for me within the library walls I was ill prepared to meet it, sitting fast bound in my chair with ”Black Jack” Thaneford opposite me, an evil smile upon his lips and the glint of a spark in the dead blackness of his half-closed eyes.
And then, of a sudden, I became horribly afraid. Not of John Thaneford, for all that he hated me and had me in his power, but of the Terror, unknown, unseen, and unheard, that lurked within the circle of these walls; whose coming none could foresee and none prevent; for whose appearance the ultimate stage had been set and the final watch posted.
Remember, I had nothing tangible upon which to base even a fragment of theory, and all of our original clues had proved worthless. Here were neither dim, midnight s.p.a.ces, nor hollow walls, nor underlying abysses.
Just a big, almost empty room, devoid of alcoves and odd corners, and withal flooded with the suns.h.i.+ne of a perfect June day. The only feature out of the common was the secret outlet behind the chimney-breast, and some time ago I had replaced the original lock by one of the latest, burglar proof pattern. There were only two keys, one on my own bunch and the other in Betty's possession; certainly the peril was not likely to appear in that quarter; that would have been too obvious, even amateurish.
The morning dragged on. When Marcus knocked at the door, seeking admission to carry in the breakfast tray, he was roughly ordered to set it down on the threshold and take himself off. Thaneford, waiting until the house-boy was well out of hearing, unlocked the door and carried in the tray for himself; evidently, he did not intend to give me a second opportunity to send out any S. O. S. calls. With the ma.s.sive door once more _in situ_ I might halloo and shout until I burst my bellows, without anyone being the wiser.
Thaneford, in quick succession, drank two big cups of the coffee. He did not go through the form of offering me a taste of the beverage, and much as I longed for its comforting ministrations, I was hardly ready to ask the boon of my jailor. Effingham must have been unable to find any of the unsalted pilot bread, for he had provided, in its stead, several rounds of b.u.t.tered toast and a dish of scrambled eggs. But Thaneford would have none of these forbidden viands. Strange! that he should balk upon the purely academic question of a few grains of salt. But we all enjoy our pet inconsistencies. So he finished the pot of coffee and fell to smoking again, while I continued to speculate, a little grimly, upon the chances of ever getting clear of this infernal coil. Apparently, there was nothing for either of us to do but to go on waiting, waiting.
The hours dragged along and now it was hard upon high noon, as I could see by Thaneford's gold repeater that lay on the desk between us; with an indescribable thrill I realized that he, too, was watching the minute hand as it slowly traveled upward to the sign of the Roman numerals, XII. Unquestionably, some fateful moment was approaching, and yet there was nothing in the physical surroundings to give rise to uneasiness even, let alone apprehension; nothing unless it were the occasional rumble of distant thunder, a sullen drone underneath the pleasant song of the birds and the cheerful humming of bees among the rose bushes.
Through the painted window, depicting the flight of the Hebrew spies, the suns.h.i.+ne poured in full volume, the white light transformed to gorgeous color by the medium through which it pa.s.sed. One broad bar lay close at hand upon the oaken floor, a riotous splash of red from Rahab's scarlet cord intermingled with purple blotches from the circular bosses that simulated the huge grapes of the Promised Land: I watched the variegated band of color as it crept slowly toward my chair; at present, it lay to the right, but as the sun approached the zenith it swung around, little by little, so as to finally bring my person into the sphere of its influence; now a piercing purple beam struck me directly in the face and I blinked; an instant later and the dazzle had pa.s.sed beyond; again I saw clearly.
Thaneford had risen, his teeth clenched upon his lower lip, a half cry choking in his throat. Together our eyes fastened on the dial of his watch, where the hands now pointed to eight minutes after twelve o'clock. With one convulsive movement he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the time-piece, and dashed it in golden ruin to the floor; then he sprang toward me, and I knew in another moment those strong hands, with their black-tufted knuckles, would be gripping at my throat.
But that moment never came. On he leaped, lunging straight through the colored stream of sunlight. And then a purple flash seemed to strike fair on his black-shocked head; he reeled and fell. Down at my feet he rolled, his limbs twitching in the death throe; simultaneously came a tremendous crash of thunder, echoing and re-echoing from the straining and cracking walls, while the blazing band of gold and purple and scarlet went out like the flame of a wind-blown candle. I looked up to see Betty's pale face framed in the archway of the secret pa.s.sage behind the chimney-breast; back of her stood Chalmers Warriner.
Betty had an automatic pistol in her hand, and she kept it trained on the motionless, sprawling figure at my feet. She must have realized that the precaution was unnecessary, but it was all part of the preconceived plan, and she could not have borne to have stood idly by.
Warriner now entered the room, but he did not come directly toward me; on the contrary, he kept close to the wall until he had arrived at a point diagonally behind my chair; then he made his dash, and I could feel my bonds falling apart under the keen edge of the hunting knife that he carried. ”Can you walk?” he asked. ”Wait and I'll help you.”
He dragged me to my feet, and I stumbled back to the wall, holding onto his arm; now the room was in almost complete darkness save for the recurrent flashes of steel-blue radiance from the incessant electrical discharges; the rolling thunder drowned out any further exchange of speech.
Together we crept toward the secret entrance, still hugging the line and angles of the wall. Betty's arms drew me into the sheltering warmth of her breast; now the floor rocked beneath our feet as the lightning bolt sheared through the doomed roof, and the great painted window of the Israelitish spies, bending inward under the pressure of the on-rus.h.i.+ng wind, crashed into mult.i.tudinous, iridescent ruin, obliterating in its fall the white, twisted face of the man who had been John Thaneford.
At last we were in the open, shaken and trembling, drenched to the skin by the descending floods, but safe; we pulled up short and looked back.
The library wing was in flames which seemed to blaze the more fiercely under the lash of the down-slanting rain. But it might still be possible to save the main house, and I ran to the fire alarm, the familiar rustic apparatus of a great, iron ring suspended from a stout framework; and made it give furious tongue, swinging the heavy hammer until my arms seemed ready to pull away from their sockets. But help was at hand, Zack and Zeb at the head of a body of field hands; and with them the old-fas.h.i.+oned hand-pumping fire engine which had been preparing itself for just such an emergency through a full century of watchful waiting.
Our domestic fire brigade had been well drilled, and the immediate danger was soon past; finally we succeeded in getting the blaze in the library wing under control. The interior had been entirely gutted, and the roof had fallen in. But the walls remained standing, and, apparently, they had suffered but little damage.
The storm was over and once again the sun was s.h.i.+ning. Innumerable brilliants flashed on the smooth emerald of the lawns, the leaves of the lindens were rustling softly, and a Baltimore oriole, gorgeous in his orange and black livery, returned scornful challenge to a blue jay's chattering abuse. I might have deemed it but the awakening from a horrid nightmare, were it not for the incredible fact that Betty's hand lay close in mine and Chalmers Warriner was asking me for a cigarette.
Whereupon I distinguished myself by crumpling down at Betty's feet; somebody drew the cap of darkness over my eyes.
Chapter XX
_The Blind Terror_
For three days I wandered in a phantasmagoric wilderness, my princ.i.p.al obsession making me identify myself with that pair of Hebrew spies staggering under the weight of those enormous grapes; would we never lose sight of Rahab's scarlet cord, and be again in safety and quiet!