The Girls of St. Wode's Part 26

CHAPTER XIX

THE MAN BY THE RUIN.

Leslie reached her own door; she eagerly turned the handle. The door was locked. She called Annie's name; there was no answer of any sort. She then knelt down and endeavored to peer through the keyhole. The room was in darkness. Had Annie gone to bed and really forgotten her? For a moment Leslie felt quite alarmed. Her own special friends had already retired to their rooms. She could not well stay in the corridor all night; but she was not really thinking of herself nor her own inconvenience. She was terribly anxious about Annie. Suppose she had gone out! Suppose she was not in her room at all! Again Leslie rattled the handle of the door. There was no reply. At that moment the door of the room next to the one at which she was knocking was opened, and Susan Merriman looked out.

"Oh, is that you, Miss Gilroy?" she exclaimed. "Can I do anything for you?"

"No, thank you," replied Leslie; "this door is locked, and I am afraid Miss Colchester has gone to bed and forgotten all about me. If so, I will ask Jane Heriot to take me in until the morning."

"I am sure Annie Colchester has not gone to bed," replied Susan. "I saw you leave your room on the way to East Hall this evening, and a moment afterwards she came out and ran down the back-stairs. I thought, of course, she had gone across to the hall. Was she not there?"

"No," replied Leslie; "she did not come to the meeting; did you not observe when the roll was gone through that her name was missing?"

"I did not notice it," answered Susan; "but what a sc.r.a.pe she will get into! How silly of her!"

"Well, please don't tell anyone that I found the door locked when I returned," said Leslie.

"Certainly not. Why should I? Can I do anything for you? Would you like to wait in my room until she comes back?"

"No, thank you. I must go and look for her; I am a little anxious about her."

"Oh, I wouldn't fret if I were you," said Susan. "I shall be up for the next hour, and if you wish to take refuge in my room you are heartily welcome."

Leslie thanked her and ran down the corridor. Trusting that no one would see her, she went downstairs. The house was already locked up, and the lower part in darkness, but she knew a side-door by which she could get out. She went to it, found it still on the latch, opened it, and the next moment found herself in the quadrangle. She stood there, with the soft night-breeze blowing upon her hot face; her heart was beating quickly: she felt full of the strangest apprehension. Where was she to go? What was she to do? Without doubt, Annie was in serious trouble. If Miss Merriman's account was true, she must have been out for hours. She would be sure presently to return to this side-door. Leslie thought she would wait there in order to meet her. She paced up and down, her restlessness and the queer dread which a.s.sailed her increasing each moment. When the great clock over East Hall sounded the hour of eleven, she felt that she could not stay inactive any longer. If Annie did not soon return, the little side-door would be locked, and it would then be impossible to get back to the college for the night. Should she go and confide her fears to Miss Frere? When this thought came to her she put it away at once. No; whatever happened, it would never do to tell about Annie. Annie had got into a sc.r.a.pe already in not attending the meeting at East Hall; she would get into a worse sc.r.a.pe, in all probability be rusticated, if this latter offense were known.

Scarcely realizing what she was doing, Leslie now walked down a side-path which led to the river. Presently she stood on the little quay just outside the boat-house. Here she herself was in complete shadow, but the moon riding high in the heavens made a silver band of light across the river. In the middle of this light, seated in a boat, was a girl; a man was with her; he was bending forward and talking in an eager voice. Presently the words uttered by the girl reached Leslie's ears.

"Is it not possible for you to do with less than sixty pounds?"

"No, not a penny less," came the quick reply. "I shall be ruined if I don't get it."

"But won't you consider me at all? I am working hard, terribly hard. If I pa.s.s with honors in my June exam., I shall get a good situation and--"

"What do I care about your pa.s.sing your exam., or not, Annie? Don't you know that all that kind of thing is humbug," said the man's voice. "I have no intention of your killing yourself for me. I want sixty pounds; if I don't get that sum I shall be ruined. Can't you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, yes; and I'll do my best for you," was the reply. "You must leave me now, Rupert. As it is, I shall in all probability be locked out of the college."

"You are always thinking of yourself and your own miserable safety,"

replied the man.

He took up a pair of light sculls, and rowed swiftly in the direction of the boat-house.

Leslie, who had heard each word of this conversation, shrank up against the house; she was in complete shadow, and trusted no one would see her.

The boat touched the boards of the little quay, and Annie sprang lightly on sh.o.r.e.

"You must help me put the boat back into the house," she said.

The man did so without uttering a word. The key was then turned in the lock, and Annie slipped it into her pocket. She stood at the edge of the quay, the man standing near her.

"Good-by," she said, raising her face to his.

"Good-by, old girl. You mean the best, but it is all humbug about your getting that scholars.h.i.+p, and my--" He broke off suddenly.

"Annie," he continued, "I could not do it; you may as well know now for certain that I have made up my mind to cut the old life. With that sixty pounds, or without, I leave England in a day or two. You will be better off without me than with me, but you know what it means if I go without the money."

"What?" said Annie in a low, terrified voice.

"That I am followed and arrested. Think of that! Think what the disgrace will mean to you!"

"Oh, Rupert, Rupert, it would kill me!" moaned the poor girl.

"Well, then, get me the sixty pounds, and you have nothing to fear."

"I will do my best; but this terrible, awful blow has nearly killed me."

"Humbug. I say-humbug! Girls don't die as quickly as all that. Listen, I must have that sixty pounds by hook or by crook; you must get it for me.

This is Tuesday evening. I will be here about ten o'clock on Thursday; if you don't have the money then, well, you know what will happen."

"Good-by, Rupert, good-by. I will do my best, my very best."

The man walked away, and Annie, standing for a moment where he had left her, with her hands hanging helplessly to her sides, turned slowly in the direction of the college.

Leslie waited behind until her companion was well out of sight, then she followed her; the side-door was not yet latched, and Annie let herself in. In trembling and sick fear Leslie followed, dreading each moment to hear the key turned in the lock, and yet anxious to give Annie time to escape to her room before she entered the house.

In a moment or two she approached the little door, found that it was still on the latch, entered, and uttered a long sigh of relief. When she reached her room the door was unlocked, the electric light was on, and Annie was standing near her window. Leslie came in and softly shut the door behind her. Annie turned and looked at her.

"What a long time you have been," she said.

Leslie made no reply. She seated herself on the edge of her bed, her head ached, she felt a new sense of fear. Should she tell Annie that she had listened to her, that she had overheard her conversation, that she knew a part at least of the terrible secret which was weighing her down?

Before she could make up her mind whether to speak or not, Annie herself came forward, drew a chair opposite to Leslie, and sat down.

"What did they say about my being absent at the meeting to-night?" she began.

"Miss Lauderdale was very much displeased," replied Leslie in a monotonous sort of voice, "and so was Miss Frere. Miss Frere intends to speak to you in the morning. I did what I could for you. I said you were ill, and--"

"Humbug!" interrupted Annie. "I wasn't ill." Then she laughed in a queer, strained way. "After all, that may be as good an excuse as anything else; but I don't mind your knowing that I wasn't really ill. I was obliged to go out. Leslie, I am in a great, a terrible strait, and it has occurred to me that perhaps you can help me."

"In what way?" asked Leslie.

"Leslie Gilroy, let me ask you a question. Did you ever want money so badly, so dreadfully badly, that you would even commit a crime to get it?"

"Never," answered Leslie.

"Then you are one of the rich and lucky ones: I am one of the poor and unlucky. What a wide, wide gulf lies between us!"