XXX
TEMPEST LODGE
"What's that?"
"That's the cry of a loon."
"How awful! Do they often cry like that?"
"Not often in the nighttime."
Reuther shuddered.
Mr. Black regarded her anxiously. Had he done wrong to let her join himin this strange ride?
"Shall we go back and wait for broad daylight?" he asked.
"No, no. I could not bear the suspense of wondering whether all wasgoing well and the opportunity being given you of seeing and speaking tohim. We have taken such precautions--chosen so late (or should I say soearly) a start--that I'm sure we have outwitted the man who is sowatchful of us. But if we go back, we cannot slip away from him again;and Oliver will have to submit to an humiliation it is our duty to sparehim. And the good judge, too. I don't care if the loons do cry; thenight is beautiful."
And it was, had their hearts been in tune to enjoy it. A gibbous moonhad risen, and, inefficient as it was to light up the recesses of theforest, it illumined the tree-tops and brought out the differencebetween earth and sky. The road, known to the horses, if not tothemselves, extended like a black ribbon under their eyes, but thepatches of light which fell across it at intervals took from it theuninterrupted gloom it must have otherwise had. Mr. Sloan, who was atonce their guide and host, promised that dawn would be upon them beforethey reached the huge gully which was the one dangerous feature of theroad. But as yet there were no signs of dawn; and to Reuther, as well asto Mr. Black, this ride through the heart of a wilderness in a darknesswhich might have been that of midnight by any other measure than that ofthe clock, had the effect of a dream in which one is only sufficientlyin touch with past commonplaces to say, "This is a dream and notreality. I shall soon wake." A night to remember to the end of one'sdays; an experience which did not seem real at the time and was neverlooked back upon as real--and yet, one with which neither of them wouldhave been willing to part.
Their guide had prophesied truly. Heralded by that long cry of the loon,the dawn began to reveal itself in clearness of perspective and acertain indefinable stir in the still, shrouded spaces of the woods.Details began to appear where heretofore all had been mass. Pearl tintsproclaimed the east, and presently these were replaced by a flush ofdelicate colour deepening into rose, and the every-day world of themighty forest was upon them with its night mystery gone.
But not the romance of their errand, or the anxiety which both felt asto its ultimate fulfilment. This it had been easier to face when theythemselves as well as all about them, were but moving shadows in eachother's eyes. Full sight brought full realisation. However they mightseek to cloak the fact, they could no longer disguise from themselvesthat the object of their journey might not be acceptable to the man inhiding at Tempest Lodge. Reuther's faith in him was strong, but even hercourage faltered as she thought of the disgrace awaiting him whateverthe circumstances or however he might look upon his father's imperativecommand to return.
But she did not draw rein, and the three continued to ride up and on.Suddenly, however, one of them showed disturbance. Mr. Sloan was seen toturn his head sharply, and in another moment his two companions heardhim say:
"We are followed. Ride on and leave me to take a look."
Instinctively they also glanced back before obeying. They were justrounding the top of an abrupt hill, and expected to have anuninterrupted view of the road behind. But the masses of foliage were asyet too thick for them to see much but the autumnal red and yellowspread out below them.
"I hear them; I do not see them," remarked their guide. "Two horses areapproaching."
"How far are we now from the Lodge?"
"A half-hour's ride. We are just at the opening of the gully."
"You will join us soon?"
"As quickly as I make out who are on the horses behind us."
Reuther and the lawyer rode on. Her cheeks had gained a slight flush,but otherwise she looked unmoved. He was less at ease than she; for hehad less to sustain him.
The gully, when they came to it, proved to be a formidable one. It wasnot only deep but precipitous, descending with the sheerness of a walldirectly down from the road into a basin of enormous size, where treesstood here and there in solitary majesty, amid an area of rockforbidding to the eye and suggestive of sudden and impassable chasms. Itwas like circumambulating the sinuous verge of a canyon; and for the twomiles they rode along its edge they saw no let-up in the steepness onone side or of the almost equally abrupt rise of towering rock on theother. It was Reuther's first experience of so precipitous a climb, andunder other circumstances she might have been timid; but in her presentheroic mood, it was all a part of her great adventure, and as suchaccepted.
The lawyer eyed her with growing admiration. He had not miscalculatedher pluck.
As they were making a turn to gain the summit, they heard Mr. Sloan'svoice behind them. Drawing in their horses, they greeted him eagerlywhen he appeared.
"Were you right? Are we followed?"
"That's as may be. I didn't hear or see anything more. I waited, butnothing happened, so I came on."
His words were surly and his looks sour; they, therefore, forebore toquestion him further, especially as their keenest interest lay ahead,rather than behind them. They were nearing Tempest Lodge. As it brokeupon their view, perched like an eagle's eyrie on the crest of a risingpeak, they drew rein, and, after a short consultation, Mr. Sloan wendedhis way up alone. He was a well-known man throughout the whole region,and would be likely to gain admittance if any one could. But all wishedthe hour had been less early.
However, somebody was up in the picturesque place. A small trail ofsmoke could be seen hovering above its single chimney, and promptly uponMr. Sloan's approach, a rear door swung back and an old man showedhimself, but with no hospitable intent. On the contrary, he motioned theintruder back, and shouting out some very decided words, resolutelybanged the door shut.
Mr. Sloan turned slowly about.
"Bad luck," he commented, upon joining his companions. "That was DeafDan. He's got a warm nest here, and he's determined to keep it. 'Novisitors wanted,' was what he shouted, and he didn't even hold out hishand when I offered him the letter."
"Give me the letter," said Reuther. "He won't leave a lady standing outin the cold."
Mr. Sloan handed over the judge's message, and helped her down, and shein turn began to approach the place. As she did so, she eyed it with thecuriosity of a hungry heart. It was a compact structure of closelycemented stone, built to resist gales and harbour a would-be recluse,even in an Adirondack winter. One end showed stacks of wood through itsheavily glazed windows, and between the small stable and the west doorthere ran a covered way which insured communication, even when the snowlay high about the windows.
The place had a history which she learned later. At present all herthoughts were on its possible occupant and the very serious question ofwhether she would or would not gain admittance to him.
Mr. Sloan had been repulsed from the west door; she would try the east.Oliver (if Oliver it were) was probably asleep; but she would knock, andknock, and knock; and if Deaf Dan did not open, his master soon would.
But when she found herself in face of this simple barrier, her emotionwas so strong that she recoiled in spite of herself, and turned her faceabout as if to seek strength from the magnificence of the outlook.
But though the scene was one of splendour inconceivable, she did not seeit. Her visions were all inner ones. But these were not without theirstrengthening power, as was soon shown. For presently she turned backand was lifting her hand to the door, when it suddenly flew open and aman appeared before her.
It was Oliver. Oliver unkempt and with signs upon him of a night's workof study or writing; but Oliver!--her lover once, but now just astranger into whose hand she must put this letter.
She tried to stammer out her errand; but the sudden pallor, the startingeyes--the whole shocked, almost terrified appearance of the m
an she wasfacing, stopped her. She forgot the surprise, the incredulity of mindwith which he would naturally hail her presence at his door in a placeso remote and of such inaccessibility. She only saw that his hands hadgone up and out at sight of her, and to her sensitive soul, this lookedlike a rebuff which, while expected, choked back her words and turnedher faintly flushing cheek scarlet.
"It is not I," burst from her lips in incoherent disclaimer of hispossible thought. "I'm just a messenger. Your father--"
"It IS you!" Quickly his hands passed across his eyes. "How--" Then hisglance, following hers, fell on the letter which she now remembered tohold out.
"It's the copy of a telegram," she tremblingly explained, as hecontinued to gaze at it without reaching to take it. "You could not befound in Detroit and as it was important that you should receive thisword from your father, I undertook to deliver it. I remembered yourfondness for this place and how you once said that this is where youwould like to write your book, and so I came on a venture--but notalone--Mr. Black is with me and--"
"Mr. Black! Who? What?" He was still staring at his father's letter; andstill had made no offer to take it.
"Read this first," said she.
Then he woke to the situation. He took the letter, and drawing herinside, shut the door while he read it. She, trembling very much, didnot dare to lift her eyes to watch its effect, but she was consciousthat his back and not his face was turned her way, and that the momentwas the stillest one of her whole life.
Then there came a rattling noise as he crushed the letter in his hand.
"Tell me what this means," said he, but he did not turn his head as hemade this request.
"Your father must do that," was her gentle reply. "I was only to deliverthe letter. I came--we came--thus early, because we thought--we fearedwe should get no opportunity later to find you here alone. There seem tobe people on the road--whom--whom you might feel obliged to entertainand as your father cannot wait--"
He had wheeled about. His face confronted hers. It wore a look she didnot understand and which made him seem a stranger to her. Involuntarilyshe took a step back.
"I must be going now," said she, and fell--her physical weaknesstriumphing at last over her will power.
Dark Hollow Page 30