Quill's Window Part 28

"I have telephoned," cried Mrs. Strong, coming toward them quickly.

"Help is coming. Good heavens! You are bleeding! Were you hit?"

III

The question aroused Alix. She was aware of something wet and sticky on the palm of her hand. She looked. It was covered with blood. Then she remembered putting her hand against his cheek.

As if fascinated she stared for a second or two before her wits returned. Mrs. Strong must not see that b.l.o.o.d.y hand. She would know! Guiltily she clenched her fingers again and thrust her hand behind her back. She shuddered at the feel of the moist, sticky substance, and turned suddenly sick. Her one thought was to get to her room where she could wash away the tell-tale evidence. Again she heard him speaking, and hung on his words.

"Nothing but a scratch. I fell while chasing him. He got the start of me. My overcoat bothered me. I got it off, but not in time.

It's out there somewhere. My rotten old leg is the worst. I twisted it when I jumped over the fence. That's when I fell. Tripped over some bushes or something. I was gaining on him. Up in the woods, you see. He was making for the road above. Oh, if this leg of mine was any good, I would have--" He broke off short to grip his knee with both hands, his face twitching with pain. The sentences came jerkily, breathlessly.

"Send for Dr. Smith!" Alix cried out suddenly. "Be quick! He has been shot,--I know he has been shot. Go--"

"It's a scratch, I tell you, Alix," he protested. "He didn't get me. He fired at me, but it was dark. I'm all right. There is no time to lose. If they get after him at once they'll catch him. I can show them which way he went. Where the devil are they? We ought to have every man in town out there in the woods. Did you tell 'em to bring guns? He's armed. He--"

"You ARE hurt," cried Alix. "You MUST have the doctor. Oh, for heaven's sake, DO SOMETHING!" The last was directed impatiently to Mrs. Strong.

"I'll give him a basin of water,--and some court plaster," said the older woman, who had looked closely at the scratch on the young man's cheek. "It doesn't amount to anything,--if that's all, Mr.

Thane?"

"That's all,--except my knee, and that will be all right in a few minutes. Let me sit down here a minute. Not in there,--I'm covered with dirt and burrs and,--I might get some of this filthy blood on,--that's all right, Mrs. Strong, thank you. I'll be able to go out with the gang as soon as they come. Gad! It's going to be great sport. Man-hunting!"

Alix was leaning against the end of the hall-seat, watching him as if fascinated. He bent an ardent, significant look upon her, and her eyes widened slightly under the contact.

"I'll get some water ready for you in the kitchen, and a--" began Mrs. Strong, but Alix, suddenly alive, intercepted her with a cry.

"No! I will go, Aunt Nancy,--I insist!" And before Mrs. Strong could offer a word of protest, she flashed past her and was running up the stairs.

A look of chagrin leaped into Courtney's eyes. He had counted on another minute or two alone with her. Under his breath he muttered an oath.

Alix's bedroom door opened and closed. Mrs. Strong was still looking in astonishment up the staircase.

"I--she's pretty badly upset, Mr. Thane," she said at last. "That face in the window,--and everything."

"Good Lord,--you don't mean to say you saw him?"

"Yes,--looking in that window over there. Only for a second. You must have scared him away."

"Then, by George, you can identify him!"

"He had a mask on. Didn't you see his face?"

"No. It was dark. Masked, you say. That's bad. It will be hard to swear--Still, I saw his figure. Short, heavy fellow. Wore a cap."

She continued to look anxiously up the stairs.

"Wait here," she said shortly. "I must go up to her. Go to the kitchen if you like, and wash the blood off. I'll be back in a jiffy."

He waited till she was out of sight, and then limped into the living-room,--but with a swiftness incredible in one with a twisted knee. Going direct to the fireplace, he took something out of his coat pocket and, after a glance at door and window, quickly consigned it to the flames. A small black object it was, that crumpled softly in his palm and was consumed in a flash by the flames. A moment later he entered the kitchen, bringing consternation to the two excited domestics, both of whom sent up cries of alarm at the sight of his b.l.o.o.d.y face.

Meanwhile Mrs. Strong had surprised Alix in her bathroom, frantically was.h.i.+ng her hands. She looked up and saw the housekeeper standing in the door behind her. The bowl was half full of reddish water.

The expression of disgust in her eyes remained for a moment and then gave way to confusion. Neither spoke for some time.

"What are you doing?" asked Mrs. Strong.

"Oh, Aunt Nancy!" came in a choked voice from the girl's lips.

"Is that blood?"

"Yes," replied Alix, looking away.

"I--I understand. Oh, Alix,--Alix!"

"I don't know what made me do it,--I couldn't help myself. I--Oh, it was terrible! I don't love him,--I don't love him! As long as I live,--as long as I live, I shall never forget it. I shall never know anything like it again. I could feel my soul being dragged out of my body,--Oh, Aunt Nancy! What am I to do? What is to become of me?"

"There's only one thing for you to do now," said the other, slowly, levelly. "Stay in this room. Lock the door. Don't see him again.

Keep away from him. He's--he's bad, Alix!"

"But he is not a coward!" cried the girl eagerly. "He followed that man, he chased him, he was shot at,--that is not what a coward would do. Addison Blythe is mistaken. Those men are mistaken. He--"

"I hear people downstairs,--and out in the yard. You must obey me, Alix. You must not see him again tonight. G.o.d in heaven, what kind of a spell has he cast upon you? The spell of the devil! Child, child,--don't you understand? That's what it is. The spell that makes women helpless! Stay here! I will send Hilda up to you."

"Why do you blame him for everything?" cried the girl hotly. "Doesn't a woman ever cast this spell you speak of? What defence has a man against--"

"Do you call yourself an evil woman? Nonsense! Don't talk like that. I am not blaming him. He can't help himself. He loves you.

That's not his fault. But you do not love him. You are afraid of him. You would run from him if you could. He must go away. You must send him away. Tell him of Blythe's letter. Face him with it.

Tomorrow,--not tonight. You are not yourself tonight. Trust me, dearest Alix. Do as I tell you. Promise."

"I will not come down," said Alix slowly, and Mrs. Strong went out.

She heard the key turn in the door.

CHAPTER XVI

ROSABEL

All night long bands of men scoured the woods and fields, with lanterns and dogs and guns. Courtney Thane, thrilled by that one glorious, overpowering moment of contact, sallied forth with the first of the searchers. He showed them where the masked man vaulted over the porch rail, and the course he took in crossing the terrace, below which Courtney's coat was found where he had cast it aside at the beginning of the chase. The first shot was fired as the man climbed over the fence separating the old-fas.h.i.+oned garden from the wooded district to the west, the second following almost immediately.

Thane was over the fence and picking himself up from the ground after tripping when the last shot was fired. He ran forty or fifty yards farther on and then his knee gave out. Realizing that pursuit was useless under the circ.u.mstances, he hurried back to the house to give the alarm.

It appears that he first saw the man as he was nearing the top of the steps leading to the terrace. The fellow's figure, in a crouching position, was distinctly outlined against the lighted window.

"Kind of a funny time for a robber to be monkeyin' around a house,"

said Charlie Webster, after Courtney had concluded his brief story.

"Eight o'clock is no time to figure on breaking into a house."

"He probably figured that the occupants would be at dinner," said Courtney. "Or maybe he was getting the lay of the land while there were lights to guide him. That is most likely the case. Lord, how I wish I had had a gun!"