The Gay Adventure: A Romance
"Oh!" said Lionel, in the dispassionate tone of the village idiot. "Oh!"
Again there was silence, save for a repetition of the curious cluck.
Presently Winifred said in a voice that trembled with indignation, "Is
that all you have to say?"
"You might give him my kind regards, and ask him to leave this room
untouched," said Lionel, beginning to enjoy himself. He could picture
Winifred biting her lip. "Good night, and pleasant dreams."
"You are a _man_, and my guest," said the voice bitterly, "and you leave
us at the mercy of a possible murderer----"
"Not a guest," he corrected, "but a prisoner. If you require a man, why
not ask Forbes? You were ready enough to use him just now."
Again there was silence. When she spoke again it was in the meekest of
tones--so meek, indeed, that he scarcely recognized it as Winifred's.
"Mr. Mortimer, I am very sorry. Please be generous. I threatened you
with a weapon I did not possess. Forbes sleeps in the village."
Lionel could not repress a laugh. He had been bluffed, but bore no
malice. Enough of vengeance had been exacted. He could accept the
capitulation without loss of dignity, for Miss Arkwright--most
properly--had been obliged to ask his help.
"A moment," he said, "and I shall be with you."
Jumping out of bed, he hastily put on his dressing-gown in the dark.
Then he opened the door and joined Winifred in the corridor. She was in
a dressing-gown, too, and looked charming _en deshabille_, her glorious
hair unbound. But no time was allowed for more than a glance of
admiration. Taking him by the arm, she hurried him along, explaining how
she had not gone to sleep, but had lain thinking. "My light was out, of
course," she said; "and this marauder, whoever he is, must have thought
all the household asleep. I watched him cross the lawn and presently
bring back a ladder from the potting-shed. He reared it against the
window of an empty room. I at once came to you. As soon as he has
discovered his mistake he will probably try another."
"Then shall I go down-stairs and capture him as he descends?" suggested
Lionel.
"Let us see first from the window," she said. "We must make sure."
They entered her bedroom together and walked softly toward the window.
The blind was up.
There was no moon, but the faint promise of the dawn lent a dim light,
by which objects, grotesquely shadowed, could be distinguished. When
they reached the window Lionel saw the top of a ladder resting against
the sill.
"You're right!" he whispered. "Now, I'm off outside!" He turned to go,
but was detained by a pressure on his arm.
"No, no!" whispered Winifred. "I can not let you--there may be a
gang--you might get hurt----"
"Nonsense!"
"I insist!"
"Then why----"
"You must _not_ go! Throw something instead----"
"Absurd! I----"
"I beg you!" she entreated, and her voice was so timid that once again
Lionel's heart failed. "All right!" he said. "Give me something heavy.
I'll fling up the window suddenly and surprise him!"
She pressed his arm gratefully and glided across the room. The next
moment she was at his side, offering the water-jug.
"Capital!" whispered Lionel. "Drench him first, then stun him with the
jug. Any other trifles to bestow? Soap--hair-brushes--a boot or two? Any
little knickknacks----"
"The ladder is moving!"
It was being shifted a few inches, apparently to a better foothold.
Lionel seized the jug and made ready for action.
"Cigar or cocoa-nut, lidy?" he whispered joyously as he threw up the
sash.
CHAPTER XXI
THE THORNY PATH
"Dinner _as_ usual, sir?" said the landlord of The Happy Heart, looking
into the parlor where Tony and Robert were playing piquet.
"Please, Mr. Glew," said Tony. "Seven o'clock as usual. Oh, by the way,
have you got such a thing as a lantern?"
"A lantern!" interjected Robert in surprise. "Why, what----" He was
checked by a kick under the table.
"I dare say I can find you one, sir," said the landlord. "We don't need
'em these summer nights, but I'll be bound there's one knocking about
somewhere."
"Thanks. My friend and I are enthusiastic collectors of butterflies and
moths. We mean to try for some of the latter to-night; so, if we are not
in till late, you won't be surprised or imagine burglars."
"Bless you, no, sir!" said Glew, and went out to look for the lantern.
As soon as the door closed Robert began to speak.
"Don't think me censorious, Mr. Wild, if you please; but, really now,
was there any need for that?"
"The lantern? Rather! We may have to----"
"No--not the lantern. The--the perversion----"
"Oh! you mean the lie. Don't apologize, Bangs, old chap! you haven't
offended me in the least. I like people to say what they think.--Well,
the lie.... Yes, I think it was necessary. Conspirators can't stick at
trifles. Besides, it's on _my_ conscience, so there's no need for you to
worry."
"But wouldn't an excuse----"
"Have done equally well? Possibly, though I never save the ha'porth of
tar. And an excuse would have been only a lie in another form--just as
culpable. But don't let's worry over this: I want to tell you of the
plan of campaign."
Robert subsided, content to have recorded a protest, however mild. He
loved adventure; but, being a man trained in meticulous accuracy, he did
not take kindly to deception--verbal deception, at any rate. The path of
an adventurer he had found a trifle thorny, trodden by a man of
conscience, but still he had enjoyed it and hoped to tread it still
further. But he was careful to leave most of the talking to his comrade.
"While you, Bangs," pursued Tony, leaning against the mantelpiece, "have
been living the lotus life and acting slugabed, I have been working
hard. Ever since I got a hint that Brown was in touch with The Quiet
House I have been following him like the proverbial sleuth hound. I have
discovered--at the expense of torn trousers and soaking feet--that he
keeps tryst nightly with that charming bit of womanhood I spoke to
once--and only once, alas! He has a private entry over the wall, having
driven some large nails into the outer side, well off the beaten track.
Up there the gay Lothario climbs--drops into the garden--meets his
divinity, and _voila tout_!"
"What happens?" asked Robert eagerly.
"The usual thing, Bangs. Exchange of kisses and confidences--which I,
alas! can hear but imperfectly."
"But you don't listen!" exclaimed Robert, scandalized. Tony sighed.
"I have to steel myself. In high politics, you know ... but, of course,
I shall never tell."
"Oh!"
The disappointment was obvious, and Tony laughed.
"No, old fellow, love's young dream and so forth must be respected.
Honestly, I've only watched, hoping to get a clew--perhaps some
conversation with the girl when Brown goes home. No good! No earthly
good! Brown sees her safe to the house and then comes back. He stands on
a convenient garden roller and climbs. Then he drops, and off home.
Ditto me, disgusted, envious, lacking information. To-night I mean to
move."
"Yes!"
"We'll lie in wait, Bangs, and have a word with them. A coil of rope and
a sack--those shall be our only tools. While Brown is talking we'll try
to slip the sack over his head and tie him up. I don't think the lady
will scream, for it seems to me that there's a kind of counterplot
afoot--either against Billy, the Turkish government, or Miss Arkwright.
(I still feel sure she is not Miss Arkwright, but a maid of sorts.) Now,
if I'm right in my conjectures she won't be keen on advertising Brown's
presence to her mistress. If I'm wrong and she _does_ scream and help
comes, we must bolt to the wall and clear out at once. If we succeed,
we'll have a talk with her and try to find out something. I'm tired of
waiting in the dark. Now, are you game to help?"
Robert wagged his head nervously.
"Of course, Mr. Wild, I'm as ready for adventure as I ever was. But--but
this is a serious business. It--it might mean prison!"
"It might," agreed Tony; "but I don't think it need if we're smart.
Anyhow, we must be prepared to risk a little for a great adventure. If
we're cute about the sack business I think I can manage the roping part
all right. You would have to hold the lady."
"B-but----"
"She's awfully pretty ..."
"That is no inducement, Mr. Wild. You forget----"
"Come, Bangs, none of your 'perversions!' I don't forget anything. How
many chaps half your age would jump at the chance of capturing a
beautiful anarchist!"
"I am not an old man yet, Mr. Wild," said Robert with some heat. "You
misunderstand me. I love romance and can take an interest--a detached
interest, of course--an appreciative and artistic interest in a pretty
woman. What I am thinking of is the law. But, since you put it like
that, I will come and risk it."
"Good," said Tony, concealing a smile. "Don't let your interest be too
detached, old boy, or she may get away into the house. Grip her firmly
by the wrists."
They spent the rest of the summer evening in maturing their plans and
piquet. Having given his word Mr. Hedderwick scorned to withdraw, though
it was plain that he did not relish the prospect of a night attack.
Tony, in addition to the lantern, procured some rope and a sack from the
landlord. "To put the moths in, Mr. Glew," he said brightly by way of
explanation.
"_To put the morths in!_" repeated Glew in a dazed fashion. "To put the
MORTHS in! TO PUT THE----"
He was still repeating the formula when the adventurous pair set out.
It was a quarter past ten, thirty minutes before the odd-job man was
wont to meet the lady of his heart. They reached The Quiet House in some
ten minutes, and then skirted the wall for a short distance, till Tony
stopped with a whispered "Here we are!" It was in a bridle-path that
they found themselves, about eighty yards from the main road that ran
through Shereling. Tony crouched down behind a convenient clump of
bramble and lighted the lamp.
"I'll light you up the wall," he said softly. "When you get to the top,
hang by your hands and drop quietly down. There's soft grass ten feet
beneath you. As soon as you're up I shall put out the light, for I know
the way by heart now."
With a resentful obedience Robert observed the big nails that had been
driven into the brickwork by the amorous Brown. Heartily wishing himself
at home--or at least in the snug security of The Happy Heart--but loath
to plead his years or cowardice, Mr. Hedderwick put his foot on the
lowest spike, grasped one above his head, and began the ascent. To an
active boy it would have been a trivial feat; to an elderly adventurer
it was full of pain, and in spite of an heroic spirit he was more than
once on the point of climbing down again. Something, however, forbade
the refusal of the adventure: curiosity or shame held him to his word.
The glimmer of Tony's lantern following--nay, leading him ever upward,
shone like a beacon of promise in the dark. The thought spurred him, and
it was not until he had one leg across the top of the wall that he
reflected on a change of simile: the light might rather be a
will-o'-the-wisp luring him to destruction or disgrace. For a moment his
courage failed.
"Mr. Wild!" he whispered despairingly, "I'm----"
The light went out.
"All right?" said the cheering voice of his fellow criminal. "Good. I'm
coming."
He began to follow, rope, sack and lantern coiled over his shoulders.
With a groan of resolution Robert wiped the sweat of fear from his
forehead and dropped lightly to the ground.
Tony joined him a moment later, breathing a little quickly from the
climb. Without a word he walked cautiously forward, Robert close behind,
until they reached a thicket of elder-bushes. Into the heart of this