Part 10 (2/2)

”Oh, no, you won't, my dear.”

At the unexpected reply Geraldine's heart thumped harder.

”I certainly shall, Mrs. Carder. I'm sorry not to stay and help you, but it's impossible.”

”It will be impossible for you to go,” was the colorless reply. ”n.o.body goes away from here till Rufus is ready they should; then they leave whether they have any place to go to or not. It's goin' to be different with you. I can see that. You needn't be scared by what I said, a minute ago. You are safe. You've got a home for life. I only hope you won't let him send me away.” The old woman again turned around to Geraldine and her tired old eyes filled with tears.

”Nothing should be too good for you with all your son's money,” rejoined Geraldine hotly.

Her panic-stricken thought was centered now on one idea. Escape. The night was closing in. The clouds had cleared away. The stretches of fields in all directions, the lack of neighbors, the horrors of the old woman's implications, all weighed on the girl like a crus.h.i.+ng nightmare.

The dishes at last put away, she bade the weary old woman good-night, and apprehensively looking from side to side stole to the stairway without encountering anyone and mounting to her dreary chamber she locked the door.

She hurried to the window and looked out.

A half-moon in the sky showed her that the distance down was too far to jump. She might sprain or break one of those ankles which must go fast and far to-night.

Packing her belongings back in her bag she sat down to wait. Gradually all sounds about the house ceased. Still she waited. The minutes seemed hours, but not until her watch pointed to midnight did she put on her hat and jacket and slip off her shoes.

Then going to the door she gradually turned the key. The process was remarkably noiseless. If only the hinges were as friendly. Very, very slowly she turned the k.n.o.b and very, very slowly opened the door. Not a sound.

When the opening was wide enough to admit her body she was gliding through, when her stockinged foot struck something soft. She thought it was a dog lying across the threshold, and only by heroic effort she controlled the cry that sprang to her lips. The dark ma.s.s half rose, and by the faint moonlight she could see two long, suddenly out-flung arms.

”Pete,” she whispered, ”Pete, you _will_ let me pa.s.s!”

”I'm sorry, lady. He'd kill me. He'd tear me to pieces,” came back the whisper.

”Please, Pete,” desperately, ”I'll do anything for you. Please, _please_!”

For answer the long arms pushed her back through the open door. Another door opened and Rufus Carder's nasal voice sounded. ”You there, Pete?”

A sonorous snore was the only answer. For a minute that other door remained open, but the rhythmical snoring continued, and at last the latch was heard to close.

Geraldine again cautiously opened her door a crack.

”Pete,” she whispered.

The dwarf snored.

”Please talk to me, Pete. I'm sure you are a kind boy.” The pleading whisper received no answer beyond the heavy breathing.

”I want to ask your advice. I want you to tell me what I can do. I'm sure you don't love your master.”

A sort of snort interrupted the snoring which then went on rhythmically as before.

Geraldine closed her door noiselessly. She sat down white and unnerved.

She was a prisoner, then. For a time her mind was in such a whirl that she was unable to form a plan.

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