CHAPTER XXXI--A RESCUE
An early moon stuck a pallid rim over the crest of the big, hill-likeplateau as Parsons sat on his horse in the basin, and Parsons watched itrise in its silvery splendor and bathe the world with an effulgent glow.It threw house and timber on the plateau crest in bold relief, a darksilhouette looming against a flood of shimmering light, and Parsonscould see the porch he knew so well, and could even distinguish thebreak in the timber that led to the house, which merged into the trailthat stretched to Dawes.
Parsons was still laboring with the devils of indecision and doubt. Heknew why Carrington had captured Marion, and he yearned to take the girlfrom the man--for her own sake, and for the purpose of satisfying hisvengeance. But he knew that certain death awaited him up there should heventure to show himself to Carrington. And yet a certain desperatecourage stole into Parsons as he watched from the basin, and when, abouthalf an hour after he had seen the flicker of light filter out of one ofthe windows of the house, he saw a man emerge, mount a horse, and rideaway, he drew a deep breath of resolution and urged his own horse up theslope. For the man who had mounted the horse up there wasCarrington--there could be no doubt of that.
Shivering, though still obeying the courageous impulse that had seizedhim, Parsons continued to ascend the slope. He went half way and thenhalted, listening. No sound disturbed the solemn stillness that hadfollowed Carrington's departure.
Reassured, though by this time he was sweating coldly, Parsonsaccomplished the remainder of the intervening space upward. Far back inthe timber he brought his horse to a halt, dismounted, and againlistened. Hearing nothing that alarmed him, except a loud, angry voicefrom the rear of the house--a voice which he knew as Martha's--hecautiously made his way to the front porch, tiptoed across it, andpeered stealthily into the room out of which the light still shone, itsflickering rays stabbing weakly into the outside darkness.
Looking into the room, Parsons could see Marion sitting in a chair. Herhands were bound, and she was leaning back in the chair, her hairdisheveled, her face chalk-white, and her eyes filled with a haunting,terrible dread. Near the door, likewise seated on a chair, his back tothe big room that adjoined the one in which he sat, was avillainous-looking man who was watching the girl with a leering grin.
The sight brought a murderous passion into Parsons' heart, nerving himfor the deed that instantly suggested itself to him. He crept off theporch again, moving stealthily lest he make the slightest sound thatwould warn the watcher at the door, and searched at a corner of theporch until he found what he was looking for--a heavy club, a spoke fromone of the wheels of a wagon.
Parsons knew about where to find it, for during the days that he had saton the porch nursing his resentment against Carrington, he had gazedlong at the wagon-spoke, wishing that he might have an opportunity touse it on Carrington.
He took it, balancing it, testing its weight. And now a hideous terrorseized him, almost paralyzing him. For though Parsons had robbed manymen, he had never resorted to violence; and for a time he stood with theclub in his hand, unable to move.
He moved at last, though, his face transformed from the strength of thepassion that had returned, and he carefully stepped on the porch,crossed it, and stood, leaning forward, peering into the room throughthe outside door left open by Carrington. The outside door opened fromthe big room adjoining that in which the watcher sat, and Parsons couldsee the man, who, with his back toward the door, was still looking atMarion.
Entering the big room, Parsons saw Marion's eyes widen as she lookedfull at him. He shook his head at her; her face grew whiter, and shebegan to talk to the other man.
Only a second or two elapsed then until Parsons struck. The man rolledout of his chair without a sound, and Parsons, leaping over him,trembling, his breath coming in great gasps, ran to Marion and unboundher hands.
Together they flew outside, where they found the girl's horse tetherednear a tree, and Parsons' animal standing where he had left it.
Mounting, the girl whispered to Parsons. She was trembling, and hervoice broke with a wailing quaver when she spoke:
"Where shall we go, Elam--where? We--I can't go back to the Arrow! Oh, Ijust can't! And Carrington will be back! Oh! isn't there any _way_ toescape him?"
"We'll go to Dawes, girl; that's where we'll go!" declared Parsons, hisdread and fear of the big man equaling that of the girl. "We'll go toDawes and tell them there just what kind of a man Carrington is--andwhat he has tried to do with you tonight! There must be some men inDawes who will not stand by and see a woman persecuted!"
And as they rode the river trail toward the town, the girl, white andsilent, riding a little distance ahead of him, Parsons felt for thefirst time in his life the tingling thrills that come of an unselfishdeed courageously performed. And the experience filled him with thespirit to do other good and unselfish deeds.
They rode fast for a time, until the girl again spoke of Carrington'sannounced intention to return shortly. Then they rode more cautiously,and it was well they did. For they had almost reached Dawes when theyheard the whipping tread of a horse's hoofs on the trail, coming towardthem. They rode well back from the trail, and, concealed by some heavybrush, saw Carrington riding toward the big house. He went past them,vanishing into the shadows of the trees that fringed the trail, and fora long time the girl and Parsons did not move for fear Carrington mighthave slowed his horse and would hear them. And when they did come out oftheir concealment and were again on the Dawes trail, they rode fast,with the dread of Carrington's wrath to spur them on.
* * * * *
It _had_ been Martha's voice that Parsons had heard when he had beenstanding in the timber near the front of the house. The negro woman waswalking back and forth in the room where her captor had confined her,vigorously berating the man. She was a dusky thundercloud of wrath, whorumbled verbal imprecations with every breath. Her captor--a small manwith a coarse voice, a broken nose, and a scraggy, droopingmustache--stood in the doorway looking at her fiercely, with obviousintent to intimidate the indignant Amazon.
At the instant Parsons heard her voice she was confronting the man, hereyes popping with fury.
"You let me out of heah this minute, yo' white trash! Yo' heah! An'doan' you think I's scared of you, 'cause I ain't! If you doan' hop awayfrom that do', I's goin' to mash yo' haid in wif this yere chair! Yougit away now!"
The man grinned. It was a forced grin, and his face whitened with it,betraying to Martha the fear he felt of her--which she had suspectedfrom the moment he had brought her in and the light from the kitchenlamp shone on his face.
She took a threatening step toward him; a tentative movement, a testingof his courage. And when she saw him retreat from her slightly, shelunged at him, raising the chair she held in her hands.
Possibly the man was reluctant to resort to violence; he may have had aconviction that the detaining of Martha was not at all necessary to thesuccess of Carrington's plan to subjugate the white girl, or he mighthave been merely afraid of Martha. Whatever his thoughts, the mancontinued to retreat from the negro woman, and as she pursued him, hercourage grew, and the man's vanished in inverse ratio. And as he passedthe center of the kitchen, he wheeled and ran out of the door, Marthafollowing him.
Outside, the man ran toward the stable. For an instant Martha stoodlooking after him. Then, thinking Carrington was still in the house, andthat there was no hope of her frightening him as she had frightened thelittle man who had stood guard over her, she ran to where her horsestood, clambered into the saddle, and sent the animal down the big slopetoward Mullarky's cabin, where she hoped to find Mullarky, to send himto the big house to rescue the girl from Carrington.
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