Green Fancy

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE SECOND WAYFARER RECEIVES TWO VISITORS AT MIDNIGHT

  The hour for the midday dinner approached and there was no sign of MissThackeray's return from the woods. Barnes sat for two exasperatinghours on the porch and listened to the confident, flamboyant oratory ofMr. Lyndon Rushcroft. His gaze constantly swept the line of trees, andthere were times when he failed to hear a word in whole sentences thatrolled from the lips of the actor. He was beginning to feel acutelyuneasy, when suddenly her figure issued from the woods at a point justabove the Tavern. Instead of striking out at once across the meadow,she stopped and for as long as three or four minutes appeared to becarrying on a conversation with some invisible person among the treesshe had just left behind. Then she waved her hand and turned her stepshomeward. A bent old man came out of the woods and stood watching herprogress across the open stretch. She had less than two hundred yardsto traverse between the woods and the fence opposite the Tavern. Theold man remained where he was until she reached the fence and preparedto mount it. Then, as Barnes ran down from the porch and across theroad to assist her over the fence, he whirled about and disappeared.

  "Aha," said Barnes chidingly: "politely escorted from the grounds, Isee. If you had asked me I could have told you that trespassers are notwelcome."

  "He is a nice old man. I chatted with him for nearly an hour. Hisbusiness is to shoo gipsy moths away from the trees, or something likethat, and not to shoo nice, tender young ladies off the place."

  "Does he speak English?"

  "Not a word. He speaks nothing but the most awful American I've everheard. He has lived up there on the mountain for sixty-nine years, andhe has eleven grown children, nineteen grandchildren and one wife. I'mhungry."

  The coroner's inquest over the bodies of Roon and Paul was held thatafternoon at St. Elizabeth. Witnesses from Hart's Tavern were amongthose to testify. The verdict was "Murder at the hands of partiesunknown."

  Sprouse did not appear at the Tavern until long after nightfall. Hisprotracted absence was the source of grave uneasiness to Barnes, who,having been summoned to St. Elizabeth, returned at six o'clock primedand eager for the night's adventure.

  The secret agent listened somewhat indifferently to the latter'saccount of his telephonic experiences. At nine o'clock he yawnedprodigiously and announced that he was going to bed, much to thedisgust of Mr. Rushcroft and greatly to the surprise of Mr. Barnes, whofollowed him from the tap-room and demanded an explanation.

  "People usually go to bed at night, don't they?" said Sprousepatiently. "It is expected, I believe."

  "But, my dear man, we are to undertake--"

  "There is no reason why we shouldn't go to bed like sensible beings,Mr. Barnes, and get up again when we feel like it, is there? I havesome cause for believing that one of those chaps in there is from GreenFancy. Go to bed at ten o'clock, my friend, and put out your light. Idon't insist on your taking off your clothes, however. I will rap onyour door at eleven o'clock. By the way, don't forget to stick yourrevolver in your pocket."

  A few minutes before eleven there came a gentle tapping on Barnes'sdoor. He sprang to his feet and opened it, presenting himself beforeSprouse fully dressed and, as the secret agent said later on, "fit tokill."

  They went quietly down a back stairway and let themselves out into thestable-yard. A light, cold drizzle greeted them as they left the lee ofthe building.

  "A fine night for treason, stratagems and spoils," said Sprouse,speaking barely above a whisper. "Follow me and don't ask questions.You will have to talk if you do, and talking is barred for the present."

  He stopped at the corner of the inn and listened for a moment. Then hedarted across the road and turned to the left in the ditch thatbordered it. The night was as black as pitch. Barnes, trusting to thelittle man's eyes, and hanging close upon his coat-tails, followedblindly but gallantly in the tracks of the leader. It seemed to himthat they stumbled along parallel to the road for miles before Sprousecame to a halt.

  "Climb over the fence here, and stick close to me. Are you getting yourcats'-eyes?"

  "Yes, I can see pretty well now. But, great scot, why should we walkhalf way to the North Pole, Sprouse, before--"

  "We haven't come more than half a mile. The Curtis land ends here. Westay close to this fence till we reach the woods. I was in here to-daytaking observations."

  "You were?"

  "Yes. Didn't that actress friend of yours mention meeting me?"

  "No."

  "I told her distinctly that I had eleven children, nineteen--"

  "By Jove, was that you?" gasped Barnes, falling in beside him.

  "If it were light enough you could see a sign on my back which says inlarge type, 'Silence,'" said the other, and after that not a wordpassed between them for half an hour or more. Then it was Sprouse whospoke. "This is the short cut to Green Fancy," he whispered, laying hishand on Barnes's arm. "We save four or five miles, coming this way. Doyou know where we are?"

  "I haven't the remotest idea."

  "About a quarter of a mile below Curtis's house. Are you all right?"

  "Fine as a fiddle, except for a barked knee, a skinned elbow, a coupleof more or less busted ribs, something on my cheek that runs hot,--yes,I'm all right."

  "Pretty tough going," said Sprouse, sympathetically.

  "I've banged into more trees than--"

  "Sh!" After a moment of silence, intensified by the mournful squawk ofnight-birds and the chorus of katydids, Sprouse whispered: "Did youhear that?"

  Barnes thrilled. This was real melodrama. "Hear what?" he whisperedshrilly.

  "Listen!" After a second or two: "There!"

  "It's a woodpecker hammering on the limb of a--"

  "Woodpeckers don't hammer at midnight, my lad. Don't stir! Keep yourears open."

  "You bet they're open all right," whispered Barnes, his nerves aquiver.

  Suddenly the sharp tattoo sounded so close to the spot where they werestanding that Barnes caught his breath and with difficulty suppressedan exclamation. It was like the irregular rattle of sticks on the rimof a snare-drum. The tapping ceased and a moment later a similar sound,barely audible, came out of the distance.

  Sprouse clutched his companion's arm and, dropping to his knees in thethick underbrush, pulled the other down after him.

  Presently heavy footsteps approached. An unseen pedestrian passedwithin ten yards of them. They scarcely breathed until the soundspassed entirely out of hearing. Sprouse put his lips close to Barnes'sear.

  "Telegraph," he whispered. "It's a system they have of reporting toeach other. There are two men patrolling the grounds near the house.You see what we're up against, Barnes. Do you still want to go on withit? If you are going to funk it, say so, and I'll go alone."

  "I'll stay by you," replied Barnes sturdily.

  "In about ten minutes that fellow will come back this way. He followsthe little path that winds down--but never mind. Stay where you are,and don't make a sound, no matter what happens. Understand? No matterwhat happens!" He arose and swiftly, noiselessly, stole away from hiscompanion's side. Barnes, his eyes accustomed to the night, either sawor imagined that he saw, the shadowy hulk press forward for a dozenpaces and then apparently dissolve in black air.

  Several minutes went by. There was not a sound save the restless patterof rain in the tree tops. At last the faraway thud of footsteps came tothe ears of the tense listener. They drew nearer, louder, and once moreseemed to be approaching the very spot where he crouched. He had theuncanny feeling that in a moment or two more the foot of the sentinelwould come in contact with his rigid body, and that he would not havethe power to suppress the yell of dismay that--

  Then came the sound of a dull, heavy blow, a hoarse gasp, a momentarycommotion in the shrubbery, and--again silence. Barnes's blood rancold. He waited for the next footfall of the passing man. It never came.

  A sharp whisper reached his ears. "Come here--quick!"

  He floundered through the brush
and almost fell prostrate over thekneeling figure of a man.

  "Take care! Lend a hand," whispered Sprouse.

  Dropping to his knees, Barnes felt for and touched wet, coarsegarments, and gasped:

  "My God! Have you--killed him?"

  "Temporarily," said Sprouse, between his teeth. "Here, unwind the ropeI've got around my waist. Take the end--here. Got a knife? Cut off asection about three feet long. I'll get the gag in his mouth whileyou're doing it. Hangmen always carry their own ropes," he concluded,with grewsome humour. "Got it cut? Well, cut two more sections, samelength."

  With incredible swiftness the two of them bound the feet, knees andarms of the inert victim.

  "I came prepared," said Sprouse, so calmly that Barnes marvelled at theiron nerve of the man.

  "Thirty feet of hemp clothes-line for a belt, properly preparedgags,--and a sound silencer."

  "By heaven, Sprouse, I--I believe he's dead," groaned Barnes. "We--wehaven't any right to kill a--"

  "He'll be as much alive but not as lively as a cricket in ten minutes,"said the other. "Grab his heels. We'll chuck him over into the busheswhere he'll be out of harm's way. We may have to run like hell downthis path, partner, and I'd--I'd hate to step on his face."

  "'Gad, you're a cold-blooded--"

  "Don't be finicky," snapped Sprouse. "It wasn't much of a crack, and itwas necessary. There! You're safe for the time being," he grunted asthey laid the limp body down in the brush at the side of the narrowtrail. Straightening up, with a sigh of satisfaction, he laid his handon Barnes's shoulder. "We've just got to go through with it now,Barnes. We'll never get another chance. Putting that fellow out ofbusiness queers us forever afterward." He dropped to his knees andbegan searching over the ground with his hands. "Here it is. You can'tsee it, of course, so I'll tell you what it is. A nice little block ofsandal-wood. I've already got his nice little hammer, so we'll see whatwe can raise in the way of wireless chit-chat."

  Without the slightest hesitation, he struck a succession of quick,confident blows upon the block of wood.

  "He always signals at this spot going out and again coming in," he saidsoftly.

  "How the deuce did you find out--"

  "There! Hear that? He says, 'All's well,'--same as I said, or somethingequivalent to it. I've been up here quite a bit, Barnes, making a studyof night-hawks, their habits and their language."

  "By gad, you are a wonder!"

  "Wait till to-morrow before you say that," replied Sprouse,sententiously. "Come along now. Stick to the trail. We've got to landthe other one." For five or six minutes they moved forward. Barnes,following instructions, trod heavily and without any attempt atcaution. His companion, on the other hand, moved with incrediblestealthiness. A listener would have said that but one man walked onthat lonely trail.

  Turning sharply to the right, Sprouse guided his companion through thebrush for some distance, and once more came to a halt. Again he stoleon ahead, and, as before, the slow, confident, even careless progressof a man ceased as abruptly as that of the comrade who lay helpless inthe thicket below.

  "There are others, no doubt, but they patrol the outposts, so tospeak," panted Sprouse as they bound and trussed the second victim. "Wehaven't much to fear from them. Come on. We are within a hundred feetof the house. Softly now, or--"

  Barnes laid a firm, detaining hand on the man's shoulder.

  "See here, Sprouse," he whispered, "it's all very well for you,knocking men over like this, but just what is your object? What doesall this lead up to? We can't go on forever slugging and binding thesefellows. There is a house full of them up there. What do we gain byputting a few men out of business?"

  Sprouse broke in, and there was not the slightest trace of emotion inhis whisper.

  "Quite right. You ought to know. I suppose you thought I was bringingyou up here for a Romeo and Juliet tete-a-tete with the beautiful MissCameron,--and for nothing else. Well, in a way, you are right. But,first of all, my business is to recover the crown jewels andparchments. I am going into that house and take them away from the manyou know as Loeb,--if he has them. If he hasn't them, my work here is afailure."

  "Going into the house?" gasped Barnes. "Why, my God, man, that isimpossible. You cannot get into the house, and if you did, you'd nevercome out alive. You would be shot down as an ordinary burglar and--thelaw would justify them for killing you. I must insist--"

  "I am not asking you to go into the house, my friend. I shall goalone," said Sprouse coolly.

  "On the other hand, I came up here to rescue a helpless,--"

  "Oh, we will attend to that also," said Sprouse. "The treasure comesfirst, however. Has it not occurred to you that she will refuse to berescued unless the jewels can be brought away with her? She would diebefore she would leave them behind. No, Barnes, I must get the bootyfirst, then the beauty."

  "But you can do nothing without her advice and assistance," protestedBarnes.

  "That is just why I brought you along with me. She does not know me.She would not trust me. You are to introduce me."

  "Well, by gad, you've got a nerve!"

  "Keep cool! It's the only way. Now, listen. She has designated her roomand the windows that are hers. She is lying awake up there now, take itfrom me, hoping that you will come to-night. Do you understand? If notto-night, to-morrow night. I shall lead you directly to her window. Andthen comes the only chance we take,--the only instance where we gamble.There will not be a light in her window, but that won't make anydifference. This nobby cane I'm carrying is in reality a collapsiblefishing-rod. Bought it to-day in anticipation of some good fishing.First, we use it to tap gently on her window ledge, or shade, orwhatever we find. Then, you pass up a little note to her. Here is paperand pencil. Say that you are below her window and--all ready to takeher away. Say that the guards have been disposed of, and that the coastis clear. Tell her to lower her valuables, some clothes, et cetera,from the window by means of the rope we'll pass up on the pole. Thereis a remote possibility that she may have the jewels in her room. Forcertain reasons they may have permitted her to retain them. If such isthe case, our work is easy. If they have taken them away from her,she'll say so, some way or another,--and she will not leave! Now, I'vehad a good look at the front of that house. It is covered with alattice work and huge vines. I can shin up like a squirrel and gothrough her room to the--"

  "Are you crazy, Sprouse?"

  "I am the sanest person you've ever met, Mr. Barnes. The chance we takeis that she may not be alone in the room. But, nothing risked, nothinggained."

  "You take your life in your hands and--"

  "Don't worry about that, my lad."

  "--and you also place Miss Cameron in even graver peril than--"

  "See here," said Sprouse shortly, "I am not risking my life for the funof the thing. I am risking it for her, bear that in mind,--for her andher people. And if I am killed, they won't even say 'Well-done, goodand faithful servant.' So, let's not argue the point. Are you going tostand by me or--back out?"

  Barnes was shamed. "I'll stand by you," he said, and they stole forward.

  The utmost caution was observed in the approach to the house throughthe thin, winding paths that Barnes remembered from an earlier visit.They crept on all fours over the last fifty feet that intervened, andeach held a revolver in readiness for a surprise attack.

  There were no lights visible. The house was even darker than the nightitself; it was vaguely outlined by a deeper shade of black. The groundbeing wet, the carpet of dead leaves gave out no rustling sound as thetwo men crept nearer and nearer to the top-heavy shadow that seemedready to lurch forward and swallow them whole.

  At last they were within a few yards of the entrance and at the edge ofa small space that had been cleared of shrubbery. Here Sprouse stoppedand began to adjust the sections of his fishing-rod.

  "Write," he whispered. "There is a faint glow of light up there to theright. The third window, did you say? Well, that's about where I shouldlocate it. She has opene
d the window shutters. The light comes into theroom through the transom over the door, I would say. There is probablya light in the hall outside."

  A few minutes later, they crept across the open space and huddledagainst the vine-covered facade of Green Fancy. Barnes was singularlycomposed and free from nervousness, despite the fact that his wholebeing tingled with excitement. What was to transpire within the nextfew minutes? What was to be the end of this daring exploit? Was he tosee her, to touch her hand, to carry her off into that dungeon-likeforest,--and what was this new, exquisite thrill that ran through hisveins?

  The tiny, metallic tip of the rod, held in the upstretched hand ofBarnes, much the taller of the two men, barely reached the windowledge. He tapped gently, persistently on the hard surface. Obeying thehand-pressure of his companion he desisted at intervals, resuming theoperation after a moment of waiting. Just as they were beginning tothink that she was asleep and that their efforts were in vain, theirstraining eyes made out a shadowy object projecting slightly beyond thesill. Barnes felt Sprouse's grip on his shoulder tighten, and the quickintake of his breath was evidence of the little secret agent's relief.

  After a moment or two of suspense, Barnes experienced a peculiar,almost electric shock. Some one had seized the tip of the rod; itstiffened suddenly, the vibrations due to its flexibility ceasing. Hefelt a gentle tugging and wrenching; down the slender rod ran adelicate shiver that seemed almost magnetic as it was communicated tohis hand. He knew what was happening. Some one was untying the bit ofpaper he had fastened to the rod, and with fingers that shook and wereclumsy with eagerness.

  The tension relaxed a moment later; the rod was free, and the shadowyobject was gone from the window above. She had withdrawn to the farside of the room for the purpose of reading the message so marvellouslydelivered out of the night. He fancied her mounting a chair so that shecould read by the dim light from the transom.

  He had written: "I am outside with a trusted friend, ready to do yourbidding. Two of the guards are safely bound and out of the way. Now isour chance. We will never have another. If you are prepared to comewith me now, write me a word or two and drop it to the ground. I willpass up a rope to you and you may lower anything you wish to carry awaywith you. But be exceedingly careful. Take time. Don't hurry a singleone of your movements." He signed it with a large B.

  It seemed an hour before their eyes distinguished the shadowy headabove. As a matter of fact, but a few minutes had passed. During thewait, Sprouse had noiselessly removed his coat, a proceeding thatpuzzled Barnes. Something light fell to the ground. It was Sprouse whostooped and searched for it in the grass. When he resumed an uprightposture, he put his lips close to Barnes's ear and whispered:

  "I will put my coat over your head. Here is a little electric torch.Don't flash it until I am sure the coat is arranged so that you can doso without a gleam of light getting out from under." He pressed thetorch and a bit of closely folded paper in the other's hand, andcarefully draped the coat over his head. Barnes was once more filledwith admiration for the little man's amazing resourcefulness.

  He read: "Thank God! I was afraid you would wait until to-morrow night.Then it would have been too late. I must get away to-night but I cannotleave--I dare not leave without something that is concealed in anotherpart of the house. I do not know how to secure it. My door is lockedfrom the outside. What am I to do? I would rather die than to go awaywithout it."

  Barnes whispered in Sprouse's ear. The latter replied at once: "Writeher that I will climb up to her window, and, with God's help and herdirections, manage to find the thing she wants."

  Barnes wrote as directed and passed the missive aloft. In a littlewhile a reply came down. Resorting to the previous expedient, he read:

  "It is impossible. The study is under bolt and key and no one canenter. I do not know what I am to do. I dare not stay here and I darenot go. Leave me to my fate. Do not run any further risk. I cannotallow you to endanger your life for me. I shall never forget you, and Ishall always be grateful. You are a noble gentleman and I a foolish,stupid--oh, such a stupid!--girl."

  That was enough for Barnes. It needed but that discouraging cry torouse his fighting spirit to a pitch that bordered on recklessness. Hiscourage took fire, and blazed up in one mighty flame. Nothing,--nothingcould stop him now.

  Hastily he wrote: "If you do not come at once, we will force our wayinto the house and fight it out with them all. My friend is coming upthe vines. Let him enter the window. Tell him where to go and he willdo the rest. He is a miracle man. Nothing is impossible to him. If hedoes not return in ten minutes, I shall follow."

  There was no response to this. The head reappeared in the window, butno word came down.

  Sprouse whispered: "I am going up. She will not commit you to anything.We have to take the matter into our own hands. Stay here. If you hear acommotion in the house, run for it. Don't wait for me. I'll probably bedone for."

  "I'll do just as I damn please about running," said Barnes, and therewas a deep thrill in his whisper. "Good luck. God help you if theycatch you."

  "Not even He could help me then. Good-bye. I'll do what I can to induceher to drop out of the window if anything goes wrong with me downstairs."

  He searched among the leaves and found the thick vine. A moment laterhe was silently scaling the wall of the house, feeling his waycarefully, testing every precarious foothold, dragging himselfpainfully upwards by means of the most uncanny, animal-like strengthand stealth.

  Barnes could not recall drawing a single breath from the instant theman left his side until the faintly luminous square above his head wasobliterated by the black of his body as it wriggled over the ledge.

  He was never to forget the almost interminable age that he spent,flattened against the vines, waiting for a signal from aloft. Herecalled, with dire uneasiness, Miss Cameron's statement that a guardwas stationed beneath her window throughout the night. Evidently shewas mistaken. Sprouse would not have overlooked a peril like that, andyet as he crouched there, scarcely breathing, he wondered how long itwould be before the missing guard returned to his post and he would becompelled to fight for his life. The fine, cold rain fell gently abouthim; moist tendrils and leaves caressed his face; owls hooted withghastly vehemence, as if determined to awaken all the sleepers formiles around; and frogs chattered loudly in gleeful anticipation of thefrenzied dash he would have to make through the black maze.

  We will follow Sprouse. When he crawled through the window and stooderect inside the room, he found himself confronted by a tall, shadowyfigure, standing half way between him and the door.

  He advanced a step or two and uttered a soft hiss of warning.

  "Not a sound," he whispered, drawing still nearer. "I have come fourthousand miles to help you, Countess. This is not the time or place toexplain. We haven't a moment to waste. I need only say that I have beensent from Paris by persons you know to aid you in delivering the crownjewels into the custody of your country's minister in Paris. Nothingmore need be said now. We must act swiftly. Tell me where they are. Iwill get them."

  "Who are you?" she whispered tensely.

  "My name is Theodore Sprouse. I have been loaned to your embassy by myown government."

  "How did you learn that I was here?"

  "I beg of you do not ask questions now. Tell me where the Princesleeps, how I may get to his room--"

  "You know that he is the Prince?"

  "For a certainty. And that you are his cousin."

  She laid her hand upon his arm. "And you know that he plans evil to--tohis people? That he is in sympathy with the--with the country that hasdespoiled us?"

  "Yes."

  She was silent for a moment. "Not only is it impossible for you toenter his room but it is equally impossible for you to get out of thisone except by the way you entered. If I thought there was the slightestchance for you to--"

  "Let me be the judge of that, Countess. Where is his room?"

  "The last to the right as you leave this do
or,--at the extreme end ofthe corridor. There are four doors between mine and his. Across thehall from his room you will see an open door. A man sits in there allnight long, keeping watch. You could not approach Prince Ugo's doorwithout being seen by that watcher."

  "You said in your note to Barnes that the--er--something was inCurtis's study."

  "The Prince sleeps in Mr. Curtis's room. The study adjoins it, and canonly be entered from the bed-room. There is no other door. What are youdoing?"

  "I am going to take a peep over the transom, first of all. If the coastis clear, I shall take a little stroll down the hall. Do not bealarmed. I will come back,--with the things we both want. Pardon me."He sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes. She watchedhim as if fascinated while he opened the bosom of his soft shirt andstuffed the wet shoes inside.

  "How did you dispose of the man who watches below my window?" sheinquired, drawing near. "He has been there for the past three nights. Imissed him to-night."

  "Wasn't he there earlier in the evening?" demanded Sprouse quickly.

  "I have been in my room since eleven. He seldom comes on duty beforethat hour."

  "I had it figured out that he was one of the men we got down in thewoods. If I have miscalculated--well, poor Barnes may be in for a badtime. We are quite safe up here for the time being. The fellow willassume that Barnes is alone and that he comes to pay his respects toyou in a rather romantic manner."

  "You must warn Mr. Barnes. He--"

  "May I not leave that to you, Countess? I shall be very busy for thenext few minutes, and if you will--Be careful! A slip now would befatal. Don't be hasty." His whispering was sharp and imperative. It wasa command that he uttered, and she shrank back in surprise.

  "Pray do not presume to address me in--"

  "I crave your pardon, my lady," he murmured abjectly. "You are notdressed for flight. May I suggest that while I am outside you slip on adark skirt and coat? You cannot go far in that dressing-gown. It wouldbe in shreds before you had gone a hundred feet through the brush. If Ido not return to this room inside of fifteen minutes, or if you hearsounds of a struggle, crawl through the window and go down the vines.Barnes will look out for you."

  "You must not fail, Theodore Sprouse," she whispered. "I must regainthe jewels and the state papers. I cannot go without--"

  "I shall do my best," he said simply. Silently he drew a chair to thedoor, mounted it and, drawing himself up by his hands, poked his headthrough the open transom. An instant later he was on the floor again.She heard him inserting a key in the lock. Almost before she couldrealise that it had actually happened, the door opened slowly,cautiously, and his thin wiry figure slid through what seemed to her nomore than a crack. As softly the door was closed.

  For a long time she stood, dazed and unbelieving, in the centre of theroom, staring at the door. She held her breath, listening for the shoutthat was so sure to come--and the shot, perhaps! A prayer formed on herlips and went voicelessly up to God.

  Suddenly she roused herself from the stupefaction that held her, andthrew off the slinky peignoir. With feverish haste she snatched upgarments from the chair on which she had carefully placed them inanticipation of the emergency that now presented itself. A blouse(which she neglected to button), a short skirt of some dark material, ajacket, and a pair of stout walking shoes (which she failed to lace),completed the swift transformation. She felt the pockets of skirt andjacket, assuring herself that her purse and her own personal jewelrywere where she had forehandedly placed them. As she glided to thewindow, she jammed the pins into a small black hat of felt. Then shepeered over the ledge. She started back, stifling a cry with her hand.A man's head had almost come in contact with her own as she leaned out.A man's hand reached over and grasped the inner ledge of the casement,and then a man's face was dimly revealed to her startled gaze.