Witness to the Deed Part 82

"Then you will go?"

"Yes."

"At once?"

"No."

"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Guest angrily, and he turned and strode away, while Stratton uttered a low sigh of misery, and yet of relief, for his friend's presence was irksome to him now that he wanted to act.

He waited until Guest had been gone for some minutes, and then, taking a short cut, he strode along the sands, half in dread of encountering him again, but feeling that he must risk it, though certain that if they did meet Guest would reproach him with going toward the admiral's residence in order to obtain an interview with Myra.

"He must think it--he must think it," muttered Stratton as he hurried on, now stumbling over a piece of rock, now slipping on some heap of weed left by the tide. But he pressed forward, making straight for a light which shone out plainly half-way up the cliff, and which he instinctively judged to be at Sir Mark's abode, and a sense of despair clutched his heart as he felt how he was to be so near and yet dared not even look, much less speak.

Suddenly he found that, though he was making straight for the cliff, he was wading through water; but he kept on, believing that he had entered a pool left by the tide, till the water rose from his ankles to his knees, and a rushing sound warned him that the tide had turned and was coming in fast. Then he knew that he must have been walking along one of the spits of sand round which the flowing tide curved, and that if he retraced his steps it might be to find the other end covered, besides losing time.

The darkness confused him, and he stopped, hesitating for a few moments; then, feeling that, whether the water deepened or receded, he must press on, he drew a deep breath and moved forward, the tide soon rising to his waist, and a wave nearly taking him off his legs.

Was it to be his fate to be drowned now at such a critical time, he asked himself, there in sight of the light that might be shining from the room which the woman he sought to save from suffering now occupied?

As this thought ran through his mind the waves rushed back with a hiss, the water falling to his knees, and, making a dash forward he found that he had pa.s.sed the deepest part of the channel scooped by the tide in the sand. Five minutes later he was on dry land, with the water streaming from him, and soon after the light which had been his guide disappeared.

He rightly judged, though, that it must be from his having approached nearer to the cliff; and, pressing on in spite of the darkness, he at last reached it, but was unable to judge whether he was to right or left of the cottage that he sought.

Once more he felt in despair, for he knew that time was gliding rapidly by, and that by some means they ought to leave before day.

He was about to try off to the right when all at once he heard voices above his head to the left, and, listening intently, he made out the deep tones of the admiral, and an answer came in Guest's familiar voice.

"Is he telling him that I am here?" thought Stratton. No, for there was a pleasant little laugh--Edie's; and the constriction at the listener's heart was painful as he stood there thinking and wishing to hear the voice of the woman he loved better than his life.

But the next who spoke was the admiral, and his words came distinctly to where, with every nerve strained, Stratton stood rooted to the sands.

"Well, I'm sorry," said Sir Mark, "but we've plenty of time. We'll have a sail another day, and a wander about the sands to-morrow. I'll charter a boat at Saint Malo, and make her come round. Now, my dears, in with you; it's getting late."

"My dears!" Then Myra was there all the time above where he stood; and in the silence and darkness which surrounded him Stratton sank upon his knees, and buried his face in his hands as he offered up a prayer for the safety of his lost love.

He sprang to his feet. The cottage must be close at hand, and in a few moments he was opposite the door of the long, low habitation on its little shelf of the cliff.

All was darker than ever, for the flowing tide had brought with it a chilling mist, but there was no difficulty in finding Brettison's window, Barron's being next, at the end of the little house, the nurse and the owner and his wife occupying rooms on the other side of the door.

Everyone had retired; and Stratton hesitated, feeling that he must defer his communication till the morning.

No; impossible. The wife not a hundred feet above where he stood--the convict husband close at hand, where he in his blindness had brought him. At all hazards such a critical position must be ended, and he tapped gently at Brettison's cas.e.m.e.nt.

There was not a sound in answer, and he tapped again and again more loudly. Then, with a rising sensation of anger that a man could sleep calmly in the midst of such peril, he was about to tap again when he was conscious of a faint sound within, and directly after a voice said softly:

"Who is there?"

"I--Stratton."

The fastening grated, and the window was thrown open.

"What is it?" whispered Brettison; "are you ill?"

"Yes; sick at heart. We must be off at once."

"Hist! speak lower! there is only the closed door between my room and his," whispered Brettison, "and he is restless to-night. I've heard him move and mutter. In Heaven's name, what is it--the police on the scent?"

"Would that they were waiting to take him off this moment, man,"

whispered Stratton. "Myra and her father are here."

"You're mad."

"Yes. But they are in the house above."

"They--the newcomers just arrived?"

"Yes. I thought I saw Guest and Edie to-night in the darkness. I was going to tell you, but I felt ashamed, thinking you would say what you did just now. But I have met Guest since, and spoken with him. Five minutes ago I heard Sir Mark speaking."

"Great Heavens!" gasped Brettison again. "Then we have brought him here to place wife and husband face to face!"

"Yes," said Stratton hoa.r.s.ely.

"What is to be done?"

"You must rouse him quietly, and steal out with him. Bring him along under the cliff close up to the inn. While you are getting him there I will go and hire a cart by some means to take us to the next place; failing that, I'll arrange with some fishermen to run us along the coast in their boat to Saint Malo. You understand?"

"Yes," said Brettison. "I understand, but it is impossible."

"Perhaps; but this is the time to perform impossibilities. It must be done!"

"I tell you it is impossible," said Brettison slowly. "At the first attempt to rouse him there would be a scene. He would turn obstinate and enraged. He is restless, as I told you. I should have to awaken the people here; for I could not force him to leave by the window, and this would precipitate the discovery, perhaps bring Sir Mark and your friend Guest down from the place above."

"I tell you it must be done," said Stratton, but with less conviction.

"You know it cannot be," said Brettison firmly. "I am certain that he would have one of his fits. Think of the consequences then."

"I do," whispered Stratton; "and the thoughts are maddening. What's that?"

"Speak lower. It was Barron moving in his room. Look here; there need be no discovery if we are cool and cautious. It is absurd to attempt anything now. Wait till the morning. Let him get up at his usual time.

He will be quiet and manageable then. I will keep him in, and wait till the Jerrolds are gone out--they are sure to go--most likely to sea for a sail--and then join you at the inn, where you can have a carriage or boat waiting. Then we must escape just as we stand; our luggage could be fetched another time. We can be going to take him for a drive."

Stratton was silent.

"It is the only way, I'm sure," whispered Brettison.

"Yes," said Stratton, with a sigh; "I am afraid you are right."

"I am sure I am."