Part 19 (2/2)
She crept out of bed softly so as not to awaken Helen or the other girls and went to the door. When she opened it and peered out, there was no ghostly figure ”tight-roping it” on the bal.u.s.trade. But she heard a sound below--in the lower hall. Somebody was fumbling with the chain of the front door.
”He's going out! I declare, he's going out!” thought Ruth and sped to the window.
She heard the jar of the big front door as it was opened, and then pulled shut again. She heard no step on the porch, but a figure soon fluttered down the steps. It was not Isadore Phelps, however. Ruth knew that at first glance. Indeed, it was not a boy who started away from the house, running on the gra.s.s beside the graveled walk.
Ruth turned back hastily and looked at the other bed--at Mercy's bed.
The place beside the lame girl was empty. Nita had disappeared!
CHAPTER XVIII
ANOTHER NIGHT ADVENTURE
Ruth was startled, to say the least, by the discovery that Nita was absent. And how softly the runaway girl must have crept out of bed and out of the room for Ruth--who had been awake--not to hear her!
”She certainly is a sly little thing!” gasped Ruth.
But as she turned back to see what had become of the figure running beside the path, the lantern light was flashed into her eyes. Again the beam was shot through the window and danced for a moment on the wall and ceiling.
”It is a signal!” thought Ruth. ”There's somebody outside besides Nita--somebody who wishes to communicate with her.”
Even as she realized this she saw the lantern flash from the dock. That was where it had been all the time. It was a dark-lantern, and its ray had been intentionally shot into the window of their room.
The figure she had seen steal away from the bungalow had now disappeared.
If it was Nita--as Ruth believed--the strange girl might be hiding in the shadow of the boathouse.
However, the girl from the Red Mill did not stand idly at the window for long. It came to her that somebody ought to know what was going on.
Her first thought was that Nita was bent on running away from her new friends--although, as as far as any restraint was put upon her, she might have walked away at any time.
”But she ought not to go off like this,” thought Ruth, hurrying into her own garments. By the faint light that came from outside she could see to dress; and she saw, too, that Nita's clothing had disappeared.
”Why, the girl must have dressed,” thought Ruth, in wonder. ”How could she have done it with me lying here awake?”
Meanwhile, her own fingers were busy and in two minutes from the time she had turned from the window, she opened the hall door again and tiptoed out.
The house was perfectly still, save for the ticking of the big clock.
She sped down the stairway, and as she pa.s.sed the glimmering face of the time-keeper she glanced at it and saw that the minute hand was just eight minutes past the hour.
In a closet under the stairs were the girls' outside garments, and hats. She found somebody's tam-o'-shanter and her own sweater-coat, and slipped both on in a hurry. When she opened the door the chill, salt air, with not a little fog in it, breathed into the close hall.
She stepped out, pulled the door to and latched it, and crossed the porch. The harbor seemed deserted. Two or three night lights sparkled over on the village side. What vessels rode at anchor showed no lights at their moorings. But the great, steady, yellow light of the beacon on the point shone steadily--a wonderfully comforting sight, Ruth thought, at this hour of the night.
There were no more flashes of lantern light from the dock. Nor did she hear a sound from that direction as she pa.s.sed out through the trimly cut privet hedge and took the sh.e.l.l walk to the boathouse. She was in canvas shoes and her step made no sound. In a moment or two she was in the shadow again.
Then she heard voices--soft, but earnest tones--and knew that two people were talking out there toward the end of the dock. One was a deep voice; the other might be Nita's--at least, it was a feminine voice.
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