Part 4 (1/2)
”It may be wrong, it doubtless is,” said Betty, sighing, ”but I have two plans for your escape. Tell me, are your windows securely fastened?”
”Too strongly to be tampered with except by making noise that is certain to be overheard,” returned Geoffrey.
”Then we must try other means; if you can but manage to scale the chimney,--and I think there are still some pegs inside which Reuben put there in the spring when he went up after burning it out,--if you can reach the roof by the chimney you will find on the south side, close to the chimney itself, a trap-door which lets down by a ladder into our garret. The ladder is stationary, and I will meet you there at its foot, and from the garret there is a back stairway, down which you may creep to the b.u.t.tery, and once there 'tis but a step outside when I open the door.”
”G.o.d bless you,” whispered Geoffrey, feeling a mad desire to kiss the pretty pink ear and soft cheek which he could just see by the dim light of Miss Moppet's candle; ”shall I start at once?”
”No,” returned Betty, ”Josiah Huntington has just sought his chamber, and he will be watchful. Wait until you hear the old clock on the staircase strike three; that is the hour, I have been told, when all sleep most soundly. Then Moppet will tell you if all goes right, for I shall be waiting for you, as I said, above;” and with a soft ”be very, very careful to make no noise,” Betty moved away from the ”doll's dungeon” and Yorke bounded to his feet.
”Now, Moppet,” said Betty softly, ”let me wrap you well in your woolen habit, lest you take cold.”
”Oh, Betty darling,” whispered the child, ”how will you ever gain the garret stairs when Reuben is watching? He will be sure to think it strange; can I not go for you?”
”No, never,” said Betty tenderly. ”I will slip by Reuben, and you must not fret. Sit here on my knee and go fast asleep until I wake you.”
Moppet nestled her little head down obediently on Betty's shoulder; but try hard though she did to keep her eyes wide open, sleep at last overcame her,--sleep so profound after all this excitement that Betty was able to lay her softly upon her bed without awaking, and for the remainder of those long hours Betty kept her vigil alone. It was nervous work: for determined though she was to release Yorke, Betty possessed a most sensitive and tender conscience, and love for her country and her people was as the air she breathed. It proved the tenacity of her purpose and the strength of her will that, notwithstanding her many misgivings, when she heard the clock sound the quarter she rose from her low seat by the window, where she had been gazing out into the night, and whispered softly to Moppet that it was time to wake. The child sprang up, alert and quick as Betty herself, and listened to her sister's last warning instructions to have no fear, but wait quietly for her return, and when the clock struck the hour to whisper through the hole in the chimney to Yorke that she had gone.
Very softly, her slippers held tightly in her hand, Betty pulled up the latch of the bedroom door and stepped into the almost dark hall. The night lamp had partly died out, but there was still enough of its flickering light to permit her, when her eyes grew accustomed to it, to see the dim outline of Reuben's figure sitting on a stool at the door of the north chamber. In order to reach the garret from this part of the house she must go directly down the hall to where it parted at the L, where the stairs reaching the garret were shut off by a door, on the other aide of which was a square landing, where you could turn down and descend directly from the garret to the b.u.t.tery. Once past Reuben, she would feel comparatively safe, for although Oliver's room was opposite he was too weary to be wakeful. It took scarcely a minute to creep toward Reuben, and Betty drew a quick breath of relief when she perceived that the farmer-bred lad, unaccustomed to night watches, and feeling that his prisoner was secure behind the bolted door, had fallen fast asleep. Another minute and she had fairly flown through the hall and reached the door of the garret stairs; she recollected that the latch had a troublesome creak occasionally; indeed, she had noticed it only that very day, as she and Sally Tracy had mounted to their eyrie in the big dormer window of the garret, where safe from all ears they were wont to confide their girlish secrets to each other.
”Pray Heaven it creak not to-night,” said Betty to herself as she gently and steadily pulled the handle of the latch and saw the dreaded door open to her hand. Inside stepped Betty, and made breathless pause while she closed it, and the amiable latch fell softly down again into its place. Swift as a flash the girlish figure flitted up the winding narrow stairs, and gasping but triumphant Betty seated herself on the lowest step of the trap-ladder to await the coming of Geoffrey Yorke.
In the bedroom below, Miss Moppet, whose soul was thrilling with mingled delight and terror at being an actor in a ”real story,” waited as she was told until she heard the deep voice of the clock, sounding rather more awful than usual, say ”one, two, three!” and then tiptoeing over the bare floor she opened with small trembling fingers the tiny aperture and whispered, ”Are you there?” starting back half frightened as the instant answer came, close beside her:
”Yes, is it time?”
”Betty is in the garret by now,” she faltered. ”Oh, sir, be careful and fare you well!”
For answer Geoffrey Yorke bent down, and taking the small cold fingers extended to him, pressed a kiss on them, and with a soft ”farewell”
began his pa.s.sage up the chimney.
It was no such very difficult task he found, to his satisfaction, for Betty was right, and by feeling carefully with his hands he perceived the friendly pegs which Reuben had inserted, and of which Oliver had no knowledge, else he would not have trusted so agile and strong a prisoner within their reach. Geoffrey's broad shoulders were the only sufferers, but the rough homespun which covered them was a better protection than his uniform would have been, and he again blessed the good fortune which had thrown the disguise in his way as he left Fairfield four days before.
Betty, sitting on the ladder step, straining her ears to catch the first sound, became conscious of a light sound as Geoffrey swung himself from the chimney top to the roof, and she sped up the ladder to unhook the door of the trap just as he reached it.
”Speak not a word,” she said in his ear, as he set his foot on the ladder, ”but fasten the hook lest they discover that the door has been opened. Now, give me your hand,” and in the darkness the strong, manly hand closed firmly over her dainty fingers with a clasp which, strangely enough, inspired her with fresh courage.
”Stop,” said Betty suddenly, as they were at the top stair, ”you must remove your boots: the slightest creak might wake the sleepers at the end of the hall.”
It took but a second of time to follow her directions; and then very softly, with many pauses, the pair crept down the winding stairs, and Betty involuntarily held her breath until the last step was safely pa.s.sed and she raised the latch of the b.u.t.tery door.
”If Miss Bidwell has locked it,” came the swift thought,--but, no! like everything else that dreadful night, fortune seemed to favor Betty, and with a long-drawn sigh she drew her companion across the threshold and instantly shot the bolt behind her.
A faint glow of dawn crept through the pantry windows, and Betty paused a moment and regarded the rows of milk pans which adorned the shelves of the small room with grave intentness.
”Had you not better take a gla.s.s of milk?” she said. ”You may have to travel far without food, although I am sure that should you ask for it at any of our Connecticut farmhouses you would be cheerfully supplied,”
and raising the neat dipper she filled it and handed it to Geoffrey, who took it gratefully from her hand.
”And now put on your boots, for freedom lies beyond that door,” she said, still in softest tones, as she unbolted the other door which led directly outside. ”I must go with you as far as the barn, for you will need my mare to take you out of danger of pursuit.”