The Strollers Part 23

"As well be buried alive as anch.o.r.ed here!" fretfully added Susan.

"The council is dissolved," said the manager, promptly, "with no one the wiser--except the town pump."

"An ally of Mr. Gough!" suggested Adonis.

Thus more merrily than could have been expected, with such a distasteful enterprise before them, they resumed their way. It was disagreeable under foot and they presented an odd appearance, each one with a light. Mrs. Adams, old campaigner that she was, led the way for the ladies, elastic and chatty as though promenading down Broadway on a spring morning. With their lanterns and the purpose they had in view, they likened themselves to a band of conspirators. As Barnes marched ahead with his light, Susan playfully called him Guy Fawkes, of gun-powder fame, whereupon his mind almost misgave him concerning the grave adventure upon which they were embarked.

The wind was blowing furiously, doors and windows creaked, and all the demons of unrest were moaning that night in the hubbub of sounds. Save for a flickering candle in the hall, the tavern was dark, and landlord and maids had long since retired to rest. Amid the noise of the rain and the sobbing of the wind, trunks were lowered from the window; the chariot and property wagon were drawn from the stable yard and the horses led from their stalls. In a trice they were ready and the ladies, wrapped in their cloaks, were in the coach. But the clatter of hoofs, the neighing of a horse, or some other untoward circ.u.mstance, aroused the landlord; a window in the second story shot up and out popped a head in a night-cap.

"Here!--What are you about?" cried the man.

"Leaving!" said the manager, laconically.

The landlord threw up his arms like Shylock at the loss of his money-bags.

"The reckoning!" he exclaimed. "What about the reckoning?"

"Your pound of flesh, sir!" replied Barnes.

"My score! My score!" shouted the other. "You would not leave without settling it!"

"Go to bed, sir," was the answer, "and let honest people depart without hindrance. You will be paid out of our first profits."

But the man was not so easily appeased. "Robbers! Constable!" he screamed.

Conceiving it was better to be gone without further parley, having a.s.sured him of their honorable intentions, Barnes was about to lash the horses, when Kate suddenly exclaimed:

"Where's Constance?"

"Isn't she inside?" asked the manager quickly.

"No; she isn't here."

"Oh, I sent her back to get something for me I had forgotten," spoke up Mrs. Adams, "and she hasn't returned yet."

"Sent her back! Madam, you have ruined everything!" burst out Barnes, bitterly.

"Mr. Barnes, I won't be spoken to like a child!"

"Child, indeed--"

But the querulous words were not uttered, for, as the manager was about to leave the box in considerable perturbation, there--gazing down upon them at a window next to that occupied by the landlord--stood Constance!

For a tippet, or a ruff, or some equally wretched frippery, carelessly left by the old lady, all their plans for deliverance appeared likely to miscarry. Presumably, Constance, turned from her original purpose by the noisy altercation, had hurried to the window, where now the landlord perceived her and immediately availed himself of the advantage offered.

"So one of you is left behind," he shouted exultantly. "And it's the leading lady, too! I'll take care she stays here, until after a settlement. I'll stop you yet! Stealing away in the middle of the night, you--you vagabonds!"

His voice, growing louder and louder, ended in a shrieking crescendo.

Disheartened, there seemed no alternative for the players save to turn back and surrender unconditionally. Barnes breathed a deep sigh; so much for a tippet!--their dash for freedom had been but a sorry attempt!--now he saw visions of prison bars, and uttered a groan, when the soldier who was riding his own horse dashed forward beneath the window and stood upright in his stirrups.

"Do not be afraid, Miss Carew," he said.

Fortunately the window was low and the distance inconsiderable, but Barnes held his breath, hoping the hazard would deter her.

"Do not, my dear!" he began.

But she did not hesitate; the sight of the stalwart figure and the strong arms, apparently rea.s.sured her, and she stepped upon the sill.

"Quick!" he exclaimed, and, at the word, she dropped into his upstretched arms. Scarcely had she escaped, however, before the landlord was seen at the same window. So astonished was he to find her gone, surprise at first held him speechless; then he burst into a volley of oaths that would have shamed a whaler's master.

"Come back!" he cried. "Come back, or--" The alternative was lost in vengeful imprecation.

Holding Constance before him, the soldier resumed his saddle. "Drive on!" he cried to Barnes, as past the chariot sped his horse, with its double burden.

CHAPTER XVII

THE HAND FERRY

At a lively gait down the road toward the river galloped the horse bearing Saint-Prosper and Constance. The thoroughfare was deserted and the dwelling houses as well as the princ.i.p.al buildings of the town were absolutely dark. At one place a dog ran out to the front gate, disturbed by the unusual noise on the road, and barked furiously, but they moved rapidly on. Now the steeple of the old church loomed weirdly against the dark background of the sky and then vanished.

On; on, they went, past the churchyard, with its marble slabs indistinctly outlined in the darkness, like a phantom graveyard, as immaterial and ghostlike itself as the spirits of the earliest settlers at rest there beneath the sod. This was the last indication of the presence of the town, the final impression to carry away into the wide country, where the road ran through field and forest. As they sped along, they plunged into a chasm of blackness, caused by the trees on both sides of the road which appeared to be constantly closing upon them. In the darkness of that stygian tunnel, dashing blindly through threatening obscurity, she yet felt no terrors, for a band of steel seemed to hold her above some pit of "visible night."

Out of the tunnel into the comparatively open s.p.a.ce, the wind boomed with all its force, and like an enraged monster, drove the storm-clouds, now rainless, across the sky. Occasionally the moon appeared through some aperture, serene, peace-inspiring, momentarily gilding the dark vapor, and again was swallowed up by another ma.s.s of clouds. A brood of shadows leaped around them, like things of life, now dancing in the road or pursuing through the tufts of gra.s.s, then vanishing over the meadows or disappearing in murky nooks. But a moment were they gone and then, marshaled in new numbers, menacing before and behind, under the very feet of the horse, bidding defiance to the clattering hoofs. With mane tossed in the angry wind, and nostrils dilated, the animal neighed with affright, suddenly leaping aside, as a little nest of unknown dangers lurked and rustled in the ambush of a drift of animated brush.

At that abrupt start, the rider swayed; his grasp tightened about the actress' waist; her arms involuntarily held him closer. Loosened by the wind and the mad motion, her hair brushed his cheek and fell over his shoulder, whipped sharply in the breeze. A fiercer gust, sweeping upon them uproariously, sent all the tresses free, and scudded by with an exultant shriek. For a time they rode in this wise, her face cold in the rush of wind; his gaze fixed ahead, striving to pierce the gloom, and then he drew rein, holding the horse with some difficulty at a standstill in the center of the thoroughfare.

With senses numbed by the stirring flight, the young girl had been oblivious to the firmness of the soldier's sustaining grasp, but now as they paused in the silent, deserted spot, she became suddenly conscious of it. The pain--so fast he held her!--made her wince. She turned her face to his. A glint of light fell on his brow and any lines that had appeared there were erased in the magical glimmer; eagerness, youth, pa.s.sion alone shone upon his features.

His arm clasped her even yet more closely, as if in the wildness of the moment he would fiercely draw her to him regardless of all. Did she understand--that with her face so near his, her hair surrounding him, her figure pressed in that close embrace--he must needs speak to her; had, indeed, spoken to her. She was conscious her hand on his shoulder trembled. Her cheek was no longer cold; abruptly the warm glow mantled it. Was it but that a momentary calm fell around them; the temporary hush of the boisterous wind? And yet, when again the squall swept by with renewed turmoil, her face remained unchilled. She seemed but a child in his arms. How light her own hand-touch compared to that compelling grasp with which he held her! She remembered he had but spoken to her standing in the window, and she had obeyed without a question--without thought of fear. She longed to spring to the ground now, to draw herself from him.

"You can hear the chariot down the road, Miss Carew."

Quickly her glance returned to his face; his gaze was bent down the thoroughfare. He spoke so quietly she wondered at her momentary fears; his voice rea.s.sured her.

A gleam of light shot through a rift in the clouds.

"h.e.l.lo-a!" came a welcome voice from the distance.

"h.e.l.lo-a!" answered the soldier.

"You'd better ride on!" shouted the manager. "They're after us!"

For answer the soldier touched his horse, and now began a race for the river and the ferry, which were in plain sight, Luna fortunately at this critical moment sailing from between the vapors and shining from a clear lake in the sky. The chaste light, out of the angry convulsions of the heavens, showed the fugitives the road and the river, winding like a broad band of silver across the darkness of the earth, its surface rippled into waves by the northern wind. Behind them the soldier and Constance could hear the coach creaking and groaning. It seemed to careen on its beams' end, but some special providence was watching over the players and no catastrophe occurred.

Nearer came the men on horseback down the hill; now the foremost shouted. Closer was the river; Saint-Prosper reached its bank; the gang-plank was in position and he dashed aboard. With a mighty tossing and rolling, the chariot approached, rattled safely across the gangway, followed by the property wagon, and eager hands grasped the rope, extending from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e above the large, flat craft. These hand ferries, found in various sections of the country, were strongly, although crudely, constructed, their sole means of locomotion in the stationary rope, by means of which the pa.s.sengers, providing their own power for transportation, drew themselves to the opposite sh.o.r.e.