The Green Mouse
"Miss Carr wishes to see you--just for a----"
"Miss Carr?"
"Miss Sacharissa!"
"Sacharissa?"
"Y-yes, sir--she----"
"But I don't know any Miss Sacharissa!"
"I understand that, sir."
"Look here, young woman, do you know my name?"
"No, sir, but that doesn't make any difference to Miss Carr."
"She wishes to see _me!_"
"Oh, yes, sir."
"I--I'm in a hurry to catch a train." He looked hard at the maid, at his
watch, at the maid again.
"Are you perfectly sure you're not mistaken?" he demanded.
"No, sir, I----"
"A certain Miss Sacharissa Carr desires to see _me?_ Are you certain of
that?"
"Oh, yes, sir--she----"
"Where does she live?"
"One thousand eight and a half Fifth Avenue, sir."
"I've got just three minutes. Can you run?"
"I--yes!"
"Come on, then!"
And away they galloped, his overcoat streaming out behind, the maid's
skirts flapping and her narrow apron flickering in the wind. Wayfarers
stopped to watch their pace--a pace which brought them to the house in
something under a minute. Ferdinand, the second man, let them in.
"Now, then," panted the young man, "which way? I'm in a hurry, remember!"
And he started on a run for the stairs.
"Please follow me, sir; the elevator is quicker!" gasped the maid,
opening the barred doors.
The young man sprang into the lighted car, the maid turned to fling off
hat and jacket before entering; something went fizz-bang! snap! clink!
and the lights in the car were extinguished.
"Oh!" shrieked the maid, "it's running away again! Jump, sir!"
The ornate, rococo elevator, as a matter of fact, was running away,
upward, slowly at first. Its astonished occupant turned to jump out--too
late.
"P-push the third button, sir! Quick!" cried the maid, wringing her
hands.
"W-where is it!" stammered the young man, groping nervously in the dark
car. "I can't see any."
"Cr-rack!" went something.
"It's stopped! It's going to fall!" screamed the maid. "Run, Ferdinand!"
The man at the door ran upstairs for a few steps, then distractedly slid
to the bottom, shouting:
"Are you hurt, sir?"
"No," came a disgusted voice from somewhere up the shaft.
Every landing was now noisy with servants, maids sped upstairs, flunkeys
sped down, a butler waddled in a circle.
"Is anybody going to get me out of this?" demanded the voice in the
shaft. "I've a train to catch."
The perspiring butler poked his head into the shaft from below:
"'Ow far hup, sir, might you be?"
"How the devil do I know?"
"Can't you see nothink, sir?"
"Yes, I can see a landing and a red room."
"'E's stuck hunder the library!" exclaimed the butler, and there was a
rush for the upper floors.
The rush was met and checked by a tall, young girl who came leisurely
along the landing, nibbling a chocolate.
"What is all this noise about?" she asked. "Has the elevator gone wrong
again?"
Glancing across the landing at the grille which screened the shaft she
saw the gilded car--part of it--and half of a perfectly strange young man
looking earnestly out.
"It's the doctor!" wailed her maid.
"That isn't Dr. Blimmer!" said her mistress.
"No, miss, it's a perfectly strange doctor."
"I am _not_ a doctor," observed the young man, coldly.
Sacharissa drew nearer.
"If that maid of yours had asked me," he went on, "I'd have told her. She
saw me coming down the steps of a physician's house--I suppose she
mistook my camera case for a case of medicines."
"I did--oh, I did!" moaned the maid, and covered her head with her apron.
"The thing to do," said Sacharissa, calmly, "is to send for the nearest
plumber. Ferdinand, go immediately!"
"Meanwhile," said the imprisoned young man, "I shall miss my train. Can't
somebody break that grille? I could climb out that way."
"Sparks," said Miss Carr, "can you break that grille?"
Sparks tried. A kitchen maid brought a small tackhammer--the only "'ammer
in the 'ouse," according to Sparks, who pounded at the foliated steel
grille and broke the hammer off short.
"Did it 'it you in the 'ead, sir?" he asked, panting.
"Exactly," replied the young man, grinding his teeth.
Sparks 'oped as 'ow it didn't 'urt the gentleman. The gentleman stanched
his wound in terrible silence.
Presently Ferdinand came back to report upon the availability of the
family plumber. It appeared that all plumbers, locksmiths, and similar
indispensable and free-born artisans had closed shop at noon and would
not reopen until after New Year's, subject to the Constitution of the
United States.
"But this gentleman cannot remain here until after New Year's," said
Sacharissa. "He says he is in a hurry. Do you hear, Sparks?"
The servants stood in a helpless row.
"Ferdinand," she said, "Mr. Carr told you to have that elevator fixed
before it was used again!"
Ferdinand stared wildly at the grille and ran his thumb over the bars.
"And Clark"--to her maid--"I am astonished that you permitted this
gentleman to risk the elevator."
"He was in a hurry--I thought he was a doctor." The maid dissolved into
tears.
"It is now," broke in the voice from the shaft, "an utter impossibility
for me to catch any train in the United States."
"I am dreadfully sorry," said Sacharissa.
"Isn't there an ax in the house?"
The butler mournfully denied it.
"Then get the furnace bar."
It was fetched; nerve-racking blows rained on the grille; puffing
servants applied it as a lever, as a battering-ram, as a club. The house
rang like a boiler factory.
"I can't stand any more of that!" shouted the young man. "Stop it!"
Sacharissa looked about her, hands closing both ears.
"Send them away," said the young man, wearily. "If I've got to stay here
I want a chance to think."
After she had dismissed the servants Sacharissa drew up a chair and
seated herself a few feet from the grille. She could see half the car and
half the man--plainer, now that she had come nearer.
He was a young and rather attractive looking fellow, cheek tied up in his
handkerchief, where the head of the hammer had knocked off the skin.
"Let me get some witch-hazel," said Sacharissa, rising.
"I want to write a telegram first," he said.
So she brought some blanks, passed them and a pencil down to him through
the grille, and reseated herself.
VII
THE INVISIBLE WIRE
_In Which the Telephone Continues Ringing_
When he had finished writing he sorted out some silver, and handed it and
the yellow paper to Sacharissa.
"It's dark in here. Would you mind reading it aloud to me to see if I've
made it plain?" he asked.
"Certainly," said Sacharissa; and she read:
MRS. DELANCY COURLAND,
Tuxedo.
I'm stuck in an idiotic elevator at 1008-1/2 Fifth Avenue. If I don't
appear by New Year's you'll know why. Be careful that no reporters get
hold of this.
KILLIAN VAN K. VANDERDYNK.
Sacharissa flushed deeply. "I can't send this," she said.
"Why not?" demanded the young man, irritably.
"Because, Mr. Vanderdynk, my father, brother-in-law, married sister, and
three younger sisters are expected at the Courlands'. Imagine what effect
such a telegram would have on them!"
"Then cross out the street and number," he said; "just say I'm stuck in a
strange elevator."
She did so, rang, and a servant took away the telegram.
"Now," said the heir apparent to the Prince Regency of Manhattan, "there
are two things still" possible. First, you might ring up police
headquarters and ask for aid; next, request assistance from fire
headquarters."
"If I do," she said, "wouldn't the newspapers get hold of it?"
"You are perfectly right," he said.
She had now drawn her chair so close to the gilded grille that, hands
resting upon it, she could look down into the car where sat the scion of
the Vanderdynks on a flimsy Louis XV chair.
"I can't express to you how sorry I am," she said. "Is there anything I
can do to--to ameliorate your imprisonment?"
He looked at her in a bewildered way.
"You don't expect me to remain here until after New Year's, do you?" he
inquired.
"I don't see how you can avoid it. Nobody seems to want to work until
after New Year's."
"Stay in a cage--two days and a night!"
"Perhaps I had better call up the police."
"No, no! Wait. I'll tell you what to do. Start that man, Ferdinand, on a
tour of the city. If he hunts hard enough and long enough he'll find some
plumber or locksmith or somebody who'll come."
She rang for Ferdinand; together they instructed him, and he went away,
promising to bring salvation in some shape.
Which promise made the young man more cheerful and smoothed out the
worried pucker between Sacharissa's straight brows.
"I suppose," she said, "that you will never forgive my maid for this--or
me either."
He laughed. "After all," he admitted, "it's rather funny."
"I don't believe you think it's funny."
"Yes, I do."
"Didn't you want to go to Tuxedo?"
"I!" He looked up at the pretty countenance of Sacharissa. "I _did_ want
to--a few minutes ago."
"And now that you can't your philosophy teaches you that you _don't_ want
to?"
They laughed at each other in friendly fashion.
"Perhaps it's my philosophy," he said, "but" I really don't care very
much.... I'm not sure that I care at all.... In fact, now that I think of
it, why should I have wished to go to Tuxedo? It's stupid to want to go
to Tuxedo when New York is so attractive."
"Do you know," she said reflectively, "that I came to the same
conclusion?"
"When?"
"This morning."
"Be-before you--I----"
"Oh, yes," she said rather hastily, "before you came----"
She broke off, pink with consternation. What a ridiculous thing to say!
What on earth was twisting her tongue to hint at such an absurdity?
She said, gravely, with heightened color: "I was standing by the window
this morning, thinking, and it occurred to me that I didn't care to go to
Tuxedo.... When did you change _your_ mind?"
"A few minutes a--that is--well, I never _really_ wanted to go. It's
jollier in town. Don't you think so? Blue sky, snow--er--and all that?"
"Yes," she said, "it is perfectly delightful in town to-day."
He assented, then looked discouraged.
"Perhaps you would like to go out?" he said.
"I? Oh, no.... The sun on the snow is bad for one's eyes; don't you think
so?"
"Very.... I'm terribly sorry that I'm giving you so much trouble."
"I don't mind--really. If only I could do something for you."
"You are."
"I?"
"Yes; you are being exceedingly nice to me. I am afraid you feel under
obligations to remain indoors and----"
"Truly, I don't. I was not going out."
She leaned nearer and looked through the bars: "Are you quite sure you
feel comfortable?"
"I feel like something in a zoo!"
She laughed. "That reminds me," she said, "have you had any luncheon?"
He had not, it appeared, after a little polite protestation, so she rang
for Sparks.
Her own appetite, too, had returned when the tray was brought; napkin and
plate were passed through the grille to him, and, as they lunched, he in
his cage, she close to the bars, they fell into conversation, exchanging
information concerning mutual acquaintances whom they had expected to
meet at the Delancy Courlands'.
"So you see," she said, "that if I had not changed my mind about going to
Tuxedo this morning you would not be here now. Nor I.... And we would
never have--lunched together."
"That didn't alter things," he said, smiling. "If you hadn't been ill you
would have gone to Tuxedo, and I should have seen you there."
"Then, whatever I did made no difference," she assented, thoughtfully,
"for we were bound to meet, anyway."
He remained standing close to the grille, which, as she was seated,
brought his head on a level with hers.