Cord and Creese

by James De Mille

  CHAPTER XXXII.

  FLIGHT.

  The last entry in Beatrice's journal was made by her in the hope that itmight be the last.

  In her life at Brandon Hall her soul had grown stronger and moreresolute. Besides, it had now come to this, that henceforth she musteither stay and accept the punishment which they might contrive or flyinstantly.

  For she had dared them to their faces; she had told them of theircrimes; she had threatened punishment. She had said that she was theavenger of Despard. If she had desired instant death she could have saidno more than that. Would they pass it by? She knew their secret--thesecret of secrets; she had proclaimed it to their faces. She had calledPotts a Thug and disowned him as her father; what now remained?

  But one thing--flight. And this she was fully resolved to try. Sheprepared nothing. To gain the outside world was all she wished. The needof money was not thought of; nor if it had been would it have made anydifference. She could not have obtained it.

  The one idea in her mind was therefore flight. She had concealed herjournal under a looser piece of the flooring in one of the closets ofher room, being unwilling to encumber herself with it, and dreading theresult of a search in case she was captured.

  She made no other preparations whatever. A light hat and a thin jacketwere all that she took to resist the chill air of March. There was afever in her veins which was heightened by excitement and suspense.

  Mrs. Compton was in her room during the evening. Beatrice said butlittle. Mrs. Compton talked drearily about the few topics on which shegenerally spoke. She never dared talk about the affairs of the house.

  Beatrice was not impatient, for she had no idea of trying to escapebefore midnight. She sat silently while Mrs. Compton talked or prosed,absorbed in her own thoughts and plans. The hours seemed to herinterminable. Slowly and heavily they dragged on. Beatrice's suspenseand excitement grew stronger every moment, yet by a violent effort shepreserved so perfect an outward calm that a closer observer than Mrs.Compton would have failed to detect any emotion.

  At last, about ten o'clock, Mrs. Compton retired, with many kind wishesto Beatrice, and many anxious counsels as to her health. Beatricelistened patiently, and made some general remarks, after which Mrs.Compton withdrew.

  She was now left to herself, and two hours still remained before shecould dare to venture. She paced the room fretfully and anxiously,wondering why it was that the time seemed so long, and looking fromtime to time at her watch in the hope of finding that half an hour hadpassed, but seeing to her disappointment that only two or three minuteshad gone.

  At last eleven o'clock came. She stole out quietly into the hall andwent to the top of the grand stairway. There she stood and listened.

  The sound of voices came up from the dining-room, which was near thehall-door. She knew to whom those voices belonged. Evidently it was notyet the time for her venture.

  She went back, controlling her excitement as best she might. At last,after a long, long suspense, midnight sounded.

  Again she went to the head of the stairway. The voices were still heard.They kept late hours down there. Could she try now, while they werestill up? Not yet.

  Not yet. The suspense became agonizing. How could she wait? But she wentback again to her room, and smothered her feelings until one o'clockcame.

  Again she went to the head of the stairway. She heard nothing. She couldsee a light streaming from the door of the dining-hall below. Lights,also, were burning in the hall itself; but she heard no voices.

  Softly and quietly she went down stairs. The lights flashed out throughthe door of the dining-room into the hall; and as she arrived at thefoot of the stairs she heard subdued voices in conversation. Her heartbeat faster. They were all there! What if they now discovered her! Whatmercy would they show her, even if they were capable of mercy?

  Fear lent wings to her feet. She was almost afraid to breathe for fearthat they might hear her. She stole on quietly and noiselessly up thepassage that led to the north end, and at last reached it.

  All was dark there. At this end there was a door. On each side wasa kind of recess formed by the pillars of the doorway. The door wasgenerally used by the servants, and also by the inmates of the house forconvenience.

  The key was in it. There was no light in the immediate vicinity. Aroundit all was gloom. Near by was a stairway, which led to the servants'hall.

  She took the key in her hands, which trembled violently with excitement,and turned it in the lock.

  Scarcely had she done so when she heard footsteps and voices behindher. She looked hastily back, and, to her horror, saw two servantsapproaching with a lamp. It was impossible for her now to open the doorand go out. Concealment was her only plan.

  But how? There was no time for hesitation. Without stopping to thinkshe slipped into one of the niches formed by the projecting pillars, andgathered her skirts close about her so as to be as little conspicuous aspossible. There she stood awaiting the result. She half wished that shehad turned back. For if she were now discovered in evident concealmentwhat excuse could she give? She could not hope to bribe them, for shehad no money. And, what was worst, these servants were the two who hadbeen the most insolent to her from the first.

  She could do nothing, therefore, but wait. They came nearer, and at lastreached the door.

  "Hallo!" said one, as he turned the key. "It's been unlocked!"

  "It hain't been locked yet," said the other.

  "Yes, it has. I locked it myself an hour ago. Who could have been here?"

  "Any one," said the other, quietly. "Our blessed young master has, nodoubt, been out this way."

  "No, he hasn't. He hasn't stirred from his whisky since eight o'clock."

  "Nonsense! You're making a fuss about nothing. Lock the door and comealong."

  "Any how, I'm responsible, and I'll get a precious overhauling if thisthing goes on. I'll take the key with me this time."

  And saying this, the man locked the door and took out the key. Both ofthem then descended to the servants' hall.

  The noise of that key as it grated in the lock sent a thrill through theheart of the trembling listener. It seemed to take all hope from her.The servants departed. She had not been discovered. But what was to bedone? She had not been prepared for this.

  She stood for some time in despair. She thought of other ways of escape.There was the hall-door, which she did not dare to try, for she wouldhave to pass directly in front of the dining-room. Then there was thesouth door at the other end of the building, which was seldom used. Sheknew of no others. She determined to try the south door.

  Quietly and swiftly she stole away, and glided, like a ghost, along theentire length of the building. It was quite dark at the south end as ithad been at the north. She reached the door without accident.

  There was no key in it. It was locked. Escape by that way wasimpossible.

  She stood despairing. Only one way was now left, and that lay throughthe hall-door itself.

  Suddenly, as she stood there, she heard footsteps. A figure came downthe long hall straight toward her. There was not the slightest chance ofconcealment here. There were no pillars behind which she might crouch.She must stand, then, and take the consequences. Or, rather, would itnot be better to walk forward and meet this new-comer? Yes; that wouldbe best. She determined to do so.

  So, with a quiet, slow step she walked back through the long corridor.About half-way she met the other. He stopped and started back.

  "Miss Potts!" he exclaimed, in surprise.

  It was the voice of Philips.

  "Ah, Philips," said she, quietly, "I am walking about for exercise andamusement. I can not sleep. Don't be startled. It's only me."

  Philips stood like one paralyzed.

  "Don't be cast down," he said at last, in a trembling voice. "You havefriends, powerful friends. They will save you."

  "What do you mean?" asked Beatrice, in wonder.

  "Never mind," said Philips, mysteriously. "It will be all
right. I darenot tell. But cheer up."

  "What do you mean by friends?"

  "You have friends who are more powerful than your enemies, that's all,"said Philips, hurriedly. "Cheer up."

  Beatrice wondered. A vague thought of Brandon came over her mind, butshe dismissed it at once. Yet the thought gave her a delicious joy, andat once dispelled the extreme agitation which had thus far disturbedher. Could Philips be connected with _him_? Was he in realityconsiderate about her while shaping the course of his gloomy vengeance?These were the thoughts which flashed across her mind as she stood.

  "I don't understand," said she, at last; "but I hope it may be as yousay. God knows, I need friends!"

  She walked away, and Philips also went onward. She walked slowly,until at last his steps died out in the distance. Then a door banged.Evidently she had nothing to fear from him. At last she reached the mainhall, and stopped for a moment. The lights from the dining-room werestill flashing out through the door. The grand entrance lay beforeher. There was the door of the hall, the only way of escape that nowremained. Dare she try it?

  She deliberated long. Two alternatives lay before her--to go back to herown room, or to try to pass that door. To go back was as repulsive asdeath, in fact more so. If the choice had been placed full before herthen, to die on the spot or to go back to her room, she would havedeliberately chosen death. The thought of returning, therefore, was thelast upon which she could dwell, and that of going forward was the onlyone left. To this she gave her attention.

  At last she made up her mind, and advanced cautiously, close by thewall, toward the hall-door. After a time she reached the door of thedining-room. Could she venture to pass it, and how? She paused. Shelistened. There were low voices in the room. Then they were still awake,still able to detect her if she passed the door.

  She looked all around. The hall was wide. On the opposite side the wallwas but feebly lighted. The hall lights had been put out, and thosewhich shone from the room extended forward but a short distance. It wasjust possible therefore to escape observation by crossing the doorwayalong the wall that was most distant from it.

  Yet before she tried this she ventured to put forward her head so as topeep into the room. She stooped low and looked cautiously and slowly.

  The three were there at the farthest end of the room. Bottles andglasses stood before them, and they were conversing in low tones. Thosetones, however, were not so low but that they reached her ears. Theywere speaking about _her_.

  "How could she have found it out?" said Clark.

  "Mrs. Compton only knows _one thing_," said Potts, "and that is _thesecret about her_. She knows nothing more. How could she?"

  "Then how could that cursed girl have found out about the Thugbusiness?" exclaimed John.

  There was no reply.

  "She's a deep one," said John, "d--d deep--deeper than I ever thought.I always said she was plucky--cursed plucky--but now I see she's deeptoo--and I begin to have my doubts about the way she ought to be tookdown."

  "I never could make her out," said Potts. "And now I don't even beginto understand how she could know that which only we have known. Do youthink, Clark, that the devil could have told her of it?"

  "Yes," said Clark. "Nobody but the devil could have told her that, andmy belief is that she's the devil himself. She's the only person I everfelt afraid of. D--n it, I can't look her in the face."

  Beatrice retreated and passed across to the opposite wall. She did notwish to see or hear more. She glided by. She was not noticed. She heardJohn's voice--sharp and clear--

  "We'll have to begin to-morrow and take her down--that's a fact." Thiswas followed by silence.

  Beatrice reached the door. She turned the knob. Oh, joy! it was notlocked. It opened.

  Noiselessly she passed through; noiselessly she shut it behind her. Shewas outside. She was free.

  The moon shone brightly. It illumined the lawn in front and the topsof the clumps of trees whose dark foliage rose before her. She saw allthis; yet, in her eagerness to escape, she saw nothing more, but spedaway swiftly down the steps, across the lawn, and under the shade of thetrees.

  Which way should she go? There was the main avenue which led in awinding direction toward the gate and the porter's lodge. There was alsoanother path which the servants generally took. This led to the gatealso. Beatrice thought that by going down this path she might come nearthe gate and then turn off to the wall and try and climb over.

  A few moments of thought were sufficient for her decision. She took thepath and went hurriedly along, keeping on the side where the shadow wasthickest.

  She walked swiftly, until at length she came to a place where the pathended. It was close by the porter's lodge. Here she paused to consider.

  Late as it was there were lights in the lodge and voices at the door.Some one was talking with the porter. Suddenly the voices ceased and aman came walking toward the place where she stood.

  To dart into the thick trees where the shadow lay deepest was the workof a moment. She stood and watched. But the underbrush was dense, andthe crackling which she made attracted the man's attention. He stoppedfor a moment, and then rushed straight toward the place where she was.

  Beatrice gave herself up for lost. She rushed on wildly, not knowingwhere she went. Behind her was the sound of her pursuer. He followedresolutely and relentlessly. There was no refuge for her but continuedflight.

  Onward she sped, and still onward, through the dense underbrush, whichat every step gave notice of the direction which she had taken. Perhapsif she had been wiser she would have plunged into some thick growth oftrees into the midst of absolute darkness and there remained still. Asit was she did not think of this. Escape was her only thought, and theonly way to this seemed to be by flight.

  So she fled; and after her came her remorseless, her unpitying pursuer,fear lent wings to her feet. She fled on through the underbrush thatcrackled as she passed and gave notice of her track through the dark,dense groves; yet still amidst darkness and gloom her pursuer followed.

  "ONWARD SHE SPED, AND STILL ONWARD, THROUGH THE DENSEUNDERBRUSH."]

  At last, through utter weakness and weariness, she sank down. Despaircame over her. She could do no more.

  The pursuer came up. So dense was the gloom in that thick grove thatfor some time he could not find her. Beatrice heard the crackling of theunderbrush all around. He was searching for her.

  She crouched down low and scarcely dared to breathe. She took refuge inthe deep darkness, and determined to wait till her pursuer might give uphis search. At last all was still.

  Beatrice thought that he had gone. Yet in her fear she waited for whatseemed to her an interminable period. At last she ventured to make amovement. Slowly and cautiously she rose to her feet and advanced. Shedid not know what direction to take; but she walked on, not caring whereshe went so long as she could escape pursuit.

  Scarcely had she taken twenty steps when she heard a noise. Some onewas moving. She stood still, breathless. Then she thought she had beenmistaken. After waiting a long time she went on as before. She walkedfaster. The noise came again. It was close by. She stood still for manyminutes.

  Suddenly she bounded up, and ran as one runs for life. Her long resthad refreshed her. Despair gave her strength. But the pursuer was onher track. Swiftly, and still more swiftly, his footsteps came up behindher. He was gaining on her. Still she rushed on.

  At last a strong hand seized her by the shoulder, and she sank down uponthe moss that lay under the forest trees.

  "Who are you?" cried a familiar voice.

  "Vijal!" cried Beatrice.

  The other let go his hold.

  "Will you betray me?" cried Beatrice, in a mournful and despairingvoice.

  Vijal was silent.

  "What do you want?" said he, at last. "Whatever you want to do I willhelp you. I will be your slave."

  "I wish to escape."

  "Come then--you shall escape," said Vijal.

  Without utterin
g another word he walked on and Beatrice followed. Hoperose once more within her. Hope gave strength. Despair and its weaknesshad left her. After about half an hour's walk they reached the parkwall.

  "I thought it was a poacher," said Vijal, sadly; "yet I am glad it wasyou, for I can help you. I will help you over the wall."

  He raised her up. She clambered to the top, where she rested for amoment.

  "God bless you, Vijal, and good-by!" said she.

  Vijal said nothing.

  The next moment she was on the other side. The road lay there. It rannorth away from the village. Along this road Beatrice walked swiftly.