My Lady of Doubt
CHAPTER XXXII
WE ATTAIN THE HOUSE
"Come on, Mortimer, and we'll soon find out what is going on." I turnedto the prisoner. "Where are the rest of your gang?"
"You'll find out fer yerself, Mister," he answered sullenly, "an' maybedamn quick too."
"They are in the grape arbor to the south of the house," broke in Eric."That was where Fagin told them to lie quiet and wait orders."
"Then we will explore along the north side, keeping the fence between us.I've got a handful of men over there in the orchard. If you are bothready we'll go."
I took a look myself at Tom's rope-tying, and found it satisfactory.Indeed, in remembrance of my own suffering, I even loosened the strain alittle, confident the fellow could never free himself unaided. Then thethree of us, Mortimer armed with his late guard's gun, crawled up overthe edge of the bank, ran without stopping across the open space, andcrouched in the shadow of the fence. It was still dark, although a faintgray tinged the eastern sky-line, barely perceptible through theintervening trees. The great house, a hundred yards away, was but ablurred outline, distinguishable by the lights shining out through openwindows. At that distance no sound reached us. However, if Mortimer wasright, the way would be clear for our passage along the front, undershelter of the fence, even though a sentry was posted there, and we couldcreep up to the walls on the opposite side unobserved. All we needed todo was to advance with caution. Whispering directions into the ears ofthe others, I moved forward slowly, Mortimer close to my shoulder. Icould see across the top rail of the fence, and the open space beyondyielded no point of concealment.
"Tell me the rest of your story," I said, speaking softly, "as we goalong. Where did Fagin take you?"
"To a sand cave; we rode a night and a day to get there."
"Treat you all right?"
"Well as he could, I suppose. I had enough to eat, but was guardedclosely, and the fellows were a bit rough."
"Did you gain no inkling of what they were up to?"
"No; the men I saw knew nothing, or pretended not to. I only saw Fagintwice. Once he came to assure himself that I was really myself. Somebodytold him I was with Delavan in a fight over near Lone Tree."
"That was your sister."
"What! You don't mean it was Claire?"
"But I do. I chanced to be in that affair myself, and saw her. Later she,with three others--Peter, an Indian, and an Irishman--captured me,mistaking me for some one else, and took me to Elmhurst. As soon as shelearned my identity she acknowledged her error. But I have not learnedyet why she was with Delavan, or for whom she mistook me."
The lad drew in his breath sharply, gripping me by the shoulder.
"By the Lord Harry!" he exclaimed excitedly. "There isn't another girl inthe Colonies who would have done it. I'll bet I can explain, but even Ididn't think she would ever have the nerve to perform such a deed. I toldyou I left my papers there. I forgot them when I changed my clothes. Yousee I came out wearing the uniform of a British Dragoon Lieutenant, andhad it all planned out to join Delavan, and guide him toward Philadelphiaover the Lone Tree road. Just before I left our camp at Valley Forge onthis trip I received orders from Washington to keep my eyes open for acourier riding from Philadelphia to New York with Clinton's plans ofevacuation. Hamilton seemed to know all about this, and sent me specialinstructions. I talked of it with Claire, planned how I was going towaylay him, and together we fixed up those servants as soldiers to helpme carry out the deception."
He paused, chuckling, and I halted, eager to learn the rest.
"And when you disappeared; when, perhaps, she heard of your capture, orsuspected it, she assumed the discarded uniform and went forth in yourstead."
"That's it, Lawrence. She would, if she thought it was right; if shebelieved such an act necessary to save my reputation. I'll bet she foundthe papers in my pocket, and mistook you for Clinton's despatch bearer."
"There is no doubt of it," I said soberly. "And that wasn't all she didto protect you. It was the talk at Lee's headquarters that you haddeserted. She stamped that a lie, by riding into our lines day beforeyesterday, bringing an exact report of where Clinton was marching. Ididn't see her, but I heard all about it, and you get the credit.Washington told me with his own lips, and granted her permission toremove your father, who was badly wounded, to Elmhurst."
"Good God! Are they here now?"
"They must have reached here early yesterday morning. I passed them onthe road at ten o'clock. Grant had just joined their party, claiming tobe hunting after deserters."
He clung to the fence rail, staring out toward the house.
"Grant! Do you know, I believe that fellow is at the bottom of this wholeaffair. He's in love with Claire, and--and he's working some scheme togain power over her."
"Several schemes, I think," I returned heartily. "I've nipped two of themin the bud already. Someway, Mortimer, he got possession of thoseinstructions you received from Washington and Hamilton. I ran into himover there on the lawn, back of the summer-house. He was threateningClaire, trying to drive her into marrying him offhand. We had a bit of afight, and I got the best of it. When I left I wore his coat, and laterfound your papers in his pocket. Do you remember how they wereaddressed?"
He shook his head.
"Simply 'Mortimer.' It occurred to me he could turn them over to Clinton,accuse the Colonel of treason, and share in the confiscation of thisestate, or else hold them as a threat over your sister. I burned them."
He was silent for a long minute, breathing hard; then he thrust out hishand and clasped mine.
"The damned villain!" he ejaculated, his voice trembling. "Every move hehas made has been an attempt to ruin us. I can see it now. Do you supposeClaire really cares for the fellow?"
"I am very sure she does not."
"Then what, in heaven's name, does she let him hang around for? I alwayshated the sight of his black face and infernal grin, but somehow, Ithought she rather liked him. I wonder if he can be there now! If he is,then he and Fagin are up to some devilment."
"And what that may be we'll never discover by talking here," I put insternly, suddenly realizing we were wasting time. "Come, let's get aroundto the north side."
We came in back of the summer-house, and had just left the road, whenthree horsemen galloped past, straight up toward the front door, whichstood wide open. The black shadow of a man appeared in the glow of light,shading his eyes as he looked out into the darkness.
"Is that you, Culver?"
"Yes," sullenly, the speaker swinging down from the saddle.
"Well, you've been a hell of a while getting here. Fagin will skin youalive; it's nearly daylight already."
"Did the best I could; the cantin' hypocrite wasn't at home; had to goclear to Medford after him. Come on now, get out o' that!"
He dragged the centre figure roughly from his horse, and hustled him upthe steps.
"The ol' fool thinks we're goin' to kill him, I reckon; been prayin' foran hour past. Bill got so mad he choked him twice, but it didn't do nogood. Here, take him along in, will yer, and let us hustle some grub."
The man addressed grabbed the limp figure far from gently, and hustledhim through the door. As the others disappeared, leading the threehorses, Mortimer grasped my sleeve.
"That's preacher Jenks," he whispered, "from down at the Cross Roads.What can Fagin want of him?"
"If Fagin is Grant's tool, and Grant is here," I answered soberly, "I amready to make a guess at what is up." The recollection of the Captain'sthreat at the summer-house instantly recurred to memory. "Here, you lads,skulk down into these bushes, while I try that balcony. That is thelibrary, isn't it, Eric? I thought so; I've been under guard there twice.The window shows no light, but some one is in the room beyond. Give me aleg up, Tom, and stand close so you can hear if I speak."
It was not high from the ground, but I could not grip the top of the railwithout help. With Tom's assistance I went over lightly enough, andwithout noise. The window was
the one which had been broken during thefirst assault on the house, and never repaired. I found ample room forcrawling through. The door into the hall stood partly ajar, a littlelight streaming through the crack, so I experienced no difficulty inmoving about freely. A glance told me the apartment was unoccupied,although I heard the murmur of distant voices earnestly conversing.Occasionally an emphatic oath sounded clear and distinct. My firstthought was that the men with me would be better concealed here than inthe bushes below, and I leaned over the rail, and bade them join me.Within another minute the three of us were in the room intentlylistening. I stole across to the crack of the door. The hall was empty sofar as I could see looking toward the rear of the house, and the voiceswe heard were evidently in the dining-room. Occasionally there was aclatter of dishes, or the scraping of a chair on the polished floor. Onevoice sang out an order to a servant, a nasal voice, slightly thickenedby wine, and I wheeled about, gazing inquiringly into Mortimer's face.
"That's Grant," he said quickly, "and half drunk."
"I thought so; that's when he is really dangerous. Stay close here; ifthe hallway is clear I am going to get into the shadow there under thestairs. Have your weapons ready."
Where the fellow was who had been at the front door I could notdetermine. He had disappeared somehow, and I slipped along the wall forthe necessary ten feet like a shadow, and crept in beneath the shelter ofthe staircase. From here I could look into the room opposite, althoughonly a portion of the space was revealed. There was no cloth on thetable, and but a few dishes, but I counted a half-dozen bottles, mostlyempty, and numerous glasses. Grant was at one end, his uniform dusty andstained, but his eyes alone betraying intoxication. Beside him was atall, stoop-shouldered man, with matted beard, wearing the coat of aBritish Grenadier, but with all insignia of rank ripped from it. He had amean mouth, and yellow, fang-like teeth were displayed whenever he spoke.Beyond this fellow, and only half seen from where I crouched, was aheavy-set individual, his face almost purple, with a thatch of uncombedred hair. He wore the cocked hat of a Dragoon, pushed to the back of hishead, his feet were encased in long cavalry boots, crossed on the table,and he was pulling furiously at a pipe, the stem gripped firmly betweenhis teeth. Who the bearded man might be I had no means of knowing, butthis beauty was without doubt Fagin. I stared at him, fascinated,recalling the stories of his fiendish cruelty, my heart thumpingviolently, while my fingers gripped the butt of my pistol. Then, withoutwarning, a man stepped out of the darkened parlor, passed within threefeet of my hiding place, and stood within the dining-room door. The threewithin looked at him, and Fagin roared out:
"What is it now? Heard from Culver?"