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"Wouldn't it be a shame! And what would become of you?"
"Don't try it again, young woman, or worse may be your fate."
"Oh! is that so?" sneered Cervera, maliciously. "We'll see."
Down came another burning paper, and by the light of it Nick now discovered a closed door in one of the walls. It was directly under the closet door in Cervera's chamber, both of which evidently had once been used for entering the elevator.
The fact chiefly observed by Nick, however, was that the sill of the door was wide enough to offer him a safe footing. Though it was fully eight feet above his head, Nick resolved to attempt to reach it by means of the notched iron on the side wall.
Gripping the rough notches with his muscular fingers, and using those lower down for a foothold, as best he could, Nick hurriedly began the difficult ascent.
By the light from a fragment of burning paper, Cervera perceived his design, and greeted it with a scream of derision.
"I'll soon stop that, my fine fellow," she shouted, with vicious asperity. "Look out for yourself!"
White speaking, she touched a match to one of her dresses, which hung from a near peg on the closet wall, and dropped it blazing down the well.
Nick saw it coming, and was forced to drop back to the cellar floor.
"You vicious demon!" he cried, angrily. "Let up! You'll have the house on fire!"
"That's just what I intend doing--and you with it!" screamed Cervera, with a laugh. "I'll not leave you alive to get the best of me at some later day."
Then she set fire to a silk skirt, and dropped it after the other.
Nick had not yet been able to extinguish the first, and the situation was momentarily becoming more desperate. A cloud of smoke was filling the well, with no draft to carry it away, and the heat was already very oppressive.
Crouching on the curb of the lighted pa.s.sage three floors above him, Cervera was laughing wildly, with her handsome face reflecting the bitter hatred by which she was inspired, as she hurriedly set fire to a third garment and dropped it down the well.
The smoke at the bottom had become so dense that Nick no longer could see her, but he felt quite sure that he could put an end to her present murderous game.
He drew his revolver and fired two quick shots in her direction. One bullet crashed through the ceiling above her. The second clipped a lock of hair from over the vixen's ear.
It brought a shriek of alarm to her lips, and she sprang quickly back from the curb over which she was stooping.
"_Caramba!_" she yelled, excitedly. "That's your game, is it?"
"You'll find it is, if you approach that opening again!" cried Nick, half choked with smoke, while he fiercely strove to extinguish the blazing garments.
"Oh, I'll not give you another chance at me!" screamed Cervera. "I'll push over something heavier, and crush out your life with--"
She suddenly stopped, then held her breath and listened.
The crash of a breaking door reached her ears, then hurried footsteps began falling on the main stairway leading to her chamber.
"Some one is coming!" she fiercely muttered. "Perhaps another detective!
I must be off!"
Yet so bitter was her hatred of Nick, and so intensely enjoyable to her the trick she had served him, that she lingered for an instant in the face of the impending danger, and screamed down the well, with a mocking laugh:
"I'm obliged to leave you, Detective Carter! While I'm gone--keep whistling!"
At the same moment Chick Carter rushed into the chamber and caught a glimpse of her through the wreathing smoke, as she fled through the lighted pa.s.sage.
One glance at the scene gave Chick the entire situation.
He drew back, took a short run, and with a magnificent bound cleared the open well, and leaped squarely through the closet and into the lighted pa.s.sage.
Then the crash of a heavy door, suddenly closed, and the shooting of bolts, told him that Cervera had prevented pursuit for a time at least, and Chick swung round to the open well, to see if Nick needed him.
"h.e.l.lo, Nick!" he shouted. "The woman--"
"Let her go!" roared Nick, still fiercely fighting the flames that threatened the woodwork of the well. "Let her go--we'll get her later!
First save the house!"
"How can I reach you?"
"Through a door under the one in her chamber," shouted Nick. "Try that."
Chick cleared the well with another leap, then dashed downstairs and into the parlor, which was lighted by the glare from both hall and library.
He quickly discovered the door--only to find it locked and the key removed.
Chick was promptly equal to so slight an emergency, however. Grasping a heavy stool near the piano, he swung it above his head, and with half a dozen rapid blows demolished most of the door, and forced it open.
A cloud of smoke floated into the room, but a glance showed Chick that Nick now had the flames extinguished.
"Are you all right, old man?" he demanded.
"Only a little in need of fresh air," gasped Nick. "You cannot reach down to me."
"Wait a bit, then. This will do the business!"
Chick had turned and s.n.a.t.c.hed off the thick cloth covering of the piano, which he quickly twisted and lowered over the doorsill, and then braced himself to sustain Nick's weight.
"All right?" cried Nick.
"Yes. Come on!"
Nick drew himself up until he could grasp the sill of the door, then easily reached the floor and the clearer atmosphere of the parlor.
"Well, here's a pretty mess!" he growled, in tones of self-condemnation.
"If ever I was done by a crafty jade, I've been done by one this night."
"How in thunder did it happen, Nick?" demanded Chick, with no little amazement.
Nick very quickly told him, and explained the occasion of his own lack of distrust and caution.