My Lady of Doubt Part 38

"My daughter--Claire--she is not here."

"Not here!" I cried, aroused by the admission. "Did she not return to you?"

"No; they came for her to go down stairs--a tall man with a black beard, and two others. They took her away an hour ago, and I have seen nothing of her since. I--heard the shots, the sound of fierce fighting, but could not move from the bed. Tell me, Major, what has become of my little girl?"

"I do not know," I confessed, gazing about in bewilderment. "She came up the stairs, I am sure. It was just as the fight began, and I had scarcely a moment to observe anything before we were at it fiercely. She shot f.a.gin down, and then ran."

"Shot f.a.gin! Claire!"

"Yes; she was justified. Had she not acted so quickly I would have done so myself. He was forcing her into marriage."

"Into marriage! With whom?"

"Captain Grant," I answered pa.s.sionately. "It was a deliberate plot, although he pretended to be innocent, and a helpless prisoner. Later the man fought with the outlaws against us; after Jones was killed he even a.s.sumed command."

"He has been hand and glove with those fellows from the first, Colonel,"

chimed in Farrell hoa.r.s.ely. "I've known it, and told Lawrence so a month ago. I only hope he was killed down below. But what can have become of Claire?"

"She never pa.s.sed along here," insisted Mortimer, "for I haven't taken my eyes from that door."

"Then she is hiding somewhere in those front rooms. Come on, Lawrence, and we'll search them."

We went out hurriedly, leaving the wounded man lying helplessly on the bed, and stepped carelessly across the dead sentinel lying in the hallway. The memory of Peter recurred to me. He was not the kind to desert his mistress at such a time. Stopping Farrell, I stepped back to inquire. The Colonel opened his eyes wearily at sound of my voice.

"He is not here," he explained slowly. "Both Peter and Tonepah were sent away to find a surgeon, and have not returned. We antic.i.p.ated no danger here with Captain Grant present."

I ground my teeth savagely together, recalling the treachery of the latter, his insults to Claire, his deceiving of Eric, his stealing of papers, hoping thus to ruin his own Colonel, his alliance with f.a.gin, his selling of British secrets. Here was a villain through and through and I hoped he had already paid the penalty. If not, I vowed the man should never escape. But the thought of the missing girl came back, driving all else from my mind. She was in none of those rooms we searched, nor did we discover the slightest evidence of her having been there. As I stood in the door of the deserted music-room staring helplessly about, a sudden possibility occurred to me. Ay! that must be the truth, the full explanation of her vanishing. She had come flying up the stairs, frightened, desperate,--so far as she knew, alone against f.a.gin's unscrupulous band. She had not returned to her father, or escaped by way of the hall. Where then could she have gone? The secret staircase, down which she had hurried me, and which was known only to herself, Eric and Peter. I gripped Farrell's arm eagerly.

"You know this house well--did you ever hear of secret pa.s.sages in it?"

"I have heard it whispered in gossip," he answered, "that such were here in the old Indian days. Why?"

"Because it is true. The girl hid me here from Grant. And that is where we will find her. The opening is there by the false chimney, but I have no conception of how it works; she made me turn my back while she operated the mechanism."

He stooped down, and began search along the fireplace, and I joined him.

Together our hands felt over every inch of surface. There was no response, not even a crack to guide us. At last he glanced aside, and our eyes met.

"Who knew of this beside Claire?" he asked.

"Eric and the servant Swanson. She told me she and her brother discovered it by accident through reading an old memoranda."

"And the Colonel is not aware of its existence?"

"I understood not. Do you know if the boy lives?"

He left the room, and I heard his voice calling down the stairs, but did not distinguish the words of reply. I was still on my knees when he returned.

"He is alive, but unconscious, Lawrence. Do you consider it impossible for her to escape from here alone, providing she took refuge in this place?"

"I could find no opening, except underground, and that is blocked now." I shuddered at the thought. "Besides, she must be in utter darkness, for I used all the candles."

"Then we must get axes, and cut our way in. Wait here, and I will bring up some of the men."

I straightened up as he left the room, and my eyes looked into a small mirror above the open grate. Good Heavens! Could that be my reflection!

Bareheaded, my face streaked with blood and dirt, my coat rags, my shirt ripped to the waist. I scarcely looked human. In sudden burst of anger I reached out and gripped the mirror, jerking it savagely. Then I sprang back. Slowly, with a faint click of the mechanism, the mantel-place was swinging open.

CHAPTER x.x.xVII

A CONFESSION OF LOVE

I could scarcely believe my eyes as the mantel swung slowly outward, revealing the black hole beyond. I glanced about helplessly, and sprang to the door of the room to call back Farrell. He was not in the upper hall, but as my eyes swept its length I remembered a half-burned candle in the chamber opposite. By the time I returned with it lighted, the mantel had turned on its pivot, leaving the way clear. The narrow stair was vacant, stretching down into the black depths. I listened, my heart throbbing, but no sound came from below. Could she be there? Was there any other secret pa.s.sage by which she could have disappeared? I shuddered at memory of what it meant to be shut up in that dismal hole, without the companionship of light. Fearful of some accident I paused long enough to wedge a heavy piece of furniture in the opening, and then, shading the bit of candle, began groping my way down. I had reached the lower floor before the flickering yellow rays revealed any evidence of her presence.

Then I saw a girl lying head down upon the table. My hand touched her arm before she moved, but then she faced me, wild-eyed, the pistol gleaming in the candle-light.

"Claire! Claire!" I exclaimed, startled at her sudden movement. "Surely you know me."

For the instant she did not, her eyes full of terror.

"No! no!" she cried hysterically. "Oh, it cannot be! It is a dream!

You--you--tell me who you are?"

I caught her hand, the pistol falling to the floor, and placed the candlestick upon the table.

"It is no dream, dear. I am Allen Lawrence, and I have come for you. I know I look disreputable enough, but there has been fighting--surely you know me now."

She caught her breath quickly, clinging to me with both hands--her eyes softening as she studied my face.

"Allen--Allen Lawrence!" she repeated softly. "Oh, I can scarcely believe it true. Let me feel of you. I--I believe I was going insane--the dark, the awful dark, and, and no way out--no way out."

"Yes, yes, I understand," I whispered, drawing her to me. "I was hidden here once, remember. But it is over with now."

"But--how did you find a way to me? I--I never thought until it was all over that I had shut myself in here to die. I was so frightened. I just ran and hid. Oh, you cannot conceive what I had gone through."

She drew away from me, and again hid her face on the table.

"Oh, but I can, Claire," and I bent over her, my hand fondling her hair.

"I was there in the hall below, ready even then to act in your defence. I heard all that was said, saw all that was done."

"You--you were there?" sobbing out the words. "You saw me kill him?"

"Yes, and had you delayed another instant I should have done it."

"Then--then," she glanced up, tears dimming her eyes, "you do not blame me? You do not think me a wicked wretch?"

"I think you a brave, n.o.ble woman," I burst forth. "How could I feel otherwise? Look up, little girl; I want to see your face. No, don't shrink back from me. There is no cause. I know the whole story without your speaking a word. You asked me to come back to help you, and I came."