Part 16 (1/2)

It was only one story above the ground, and it did not take long; but it seemed hours since she had fired that shot, though she knew the time had been measured by scarcely more than a minute. And now, on the lower platform, waiting for that queer, double, twisting shadow of the two men to join her, she heard the Adventurers s voice ring out sharply:

”This is your chance, Danglar! I didn't waste the time to bring you along because it afforded me any amus.e.m.e.nt. They've found their heads at last, and gone to the next window, instead of wasting time on that door. They can't reach the fire escape there, but if they fire a single shot--you go out! You'd better tell them so--and tell them quick!”

And then Danglar's voice shrieked out in sudden, ”for G.o.d's sake, don't fire!”

They were all on the lower platform together now. The Adventurer was pressing the muzzle of his revolver into the small of Danglar's back, and was still supporting the man by the collar of his coat.

”I think,” said the Adventurer abruptly, ”that we can now dispense with Mr. Danglar's services, and I am sure a little cool night air out here on the fire escape will do him good. Miss Gray--would you mind?--there's a pair of handcuffs in my left-hand coat pocket.”

Handcuffs! She could have laughed out idiotically. Handcuffs! They seemed the most incongruous things in the world for the Adventurer to have, and--She felt mechanically in his pocket, and handed them to him.

There was a click as a cuff was snapped over Danglar's wrist, another as the other cuff was snapped shut around the iron hand-railing of the fire escape. The act seemed to arouse Danglar, both mentally and physically.

He tore and wrenched at the steel links now, and burst suddenly, raving, into oaths.

”Hold your tongue, Danglar!” ordered the Adventurer in cold menace; and as the other, cowed, obeyed, the Adventurer swung himself over the platform and dropped to the ground. ”Come, Miss Gray. Drop! I'll catch you!” he called in a low voice. ”One step takes us around the corner of the tenement into the lane, and Mr. Danglar won't let them fire at us before we can make that--when we could still fire at him!”

She obeyed him, swinging at arm's-length. She felt his hands fold about her in a firm grasp as she let go her hold, and she caught her breath suddenly, she did not know why, and felt the hot blood sweep her face--and then she was standing on the ground.

”Now!” he whispered. ”Together!”

They sped around the corner of the tenement. A yell from Danglar followed them. An echoing yell from above answered--and then a fusillade of abortive shots, and the sound as of boot heels clattering on the iron rungs of the fire escape; and then, more faintly, for they were putting distance behind them as fast as they could run, an excited outburst of profanity and exclamations.

”They won't follow!” panted the Adventurer. ”Those shots of theirs outdoors will have alarmed the police, and they'll try and get Danglar free first. It's lucky your shot inside wasn't heard by the patrolman on the beat. I was afraid of that. But we're safe now--from Danglar's crowd, at least.”

But still they ran. They crossed an intersecting street, and continued on along the lane; then swerving into the next intersecting street, moderated their pace to a rapid walk--and stopped finally only as Rhoda Gray drew suddenly into the shadows of another alley-way, and held out her hand. They were both safe now, as he had said. And there were so many reasons why, though her resolution faltered a little, she should go the rest of the way alone. She was not sure that she trusted this strange ”gentleman,” who was a thief with his pockets crammed even now with the money that had lured him almost to his death; but, too, she was not altogether sure that she distrusted him. But all that was secondary.

She must, as soon as she could, get back to Gypsy Nan's garret. Like that other night, she dared not take the risk that Danglar, by any chance, might return there--and find her gone after what had just happened. The man would be beside himself with fury, suspicious of everything-and suspicion would be fatal in its consequences for her.

And so she must go. And she could not become Gypsy Nan again with the Adventurer looking on!

”We part here,” she said a little unsteadily. ”Good-night!”

”Oh, I say, Miss Gray!” he protested quickly. ”You don't mean that! Why, look here, I haven't had a chance to tell you what I think, or what I feel, about what you've done to-night--for me.”

She shook her head.

”There is nothing you need say,” she answered quietly. ”We are only quits. You have done quite as much for me.”

”But, see here, Miss Gray!” he pleaded. ”Can't we come to some understanding? We seem to have a jolly lot in common. Is it quite necessary, really necessary, that you should keep me off at arm's-length? Couldn't you let down the bars just a little? Couldn't you tell me, for instance, where I could find you in case of--real necessity?”

She shook her head again.

”No,” she said. ”It is impossible.”

He drew a little closer. A sudden earnestness deepened his voice, made it rasp a little, as though it were not wholly within control.

”And suppose, Miss Gray, that I refuse to leave you, or to let you go, now that I have you here, unless you give me more of your confidence?

What then?”

”The other night,” she said slowly, ”you informed me, among other things, that you were a gentleman. I believed the other things.”