CHAPTER IV
AZURECREST
It was growing dark when she reached the end of her journey, and thedusk made it easy for her to elude the little knot of idlers on thestation platform. With frequent backward glances she hurried down apath that skirted the edge of a village nestling at the foot of a hillwhich was outlined against the horizon like a great funnel-shapedcloud. On its apex was Azurecrest, the hermitage of The Gray Phantom.
Helen found the motor driveway that circled its way upward in spiralfashion, for the hill was too steep to permit cars to reach the top bydirect route. She had visited the place once before, in the course ofone of the perilous adventures she and The Phantom had sharedtogether. The residence, a sprawling structure of stone, tile andstucco, had been built by The Phantom shortly after his retirement,and she had marveled at the precautions he had taken to protect hisprivacy. The inhabitants of the village understood that the place wasoccupied by a wealthy and leisurely gentleman who was spending theremainder of his life in ease and solitude on the desolate hilltop.Though consumed with curiosity, they never ventured near Azurecrest,guessing accurately that they would not be welcomed. Occasionally theysaw one of the servants, but the owner never permitted himself to beseen except by his most intimate associates.
The tang of late autumn was in the air, and Helen's head cleared asshe walked briskly up the zigzagging driveway. The railway journey hadbeen long and tedious and punctuated by innumerable stops, and she hadbeen too distracted to think clearly. Now she began to search her mindfor a plan, but she soon saw that planning was impossible. Her trip toAzurecrest had been prompted by one of those sudden impulses thatusually dictated her conduct, and she had been conscious of no othermotive than to put an end to her fears and doubts. She had thoughtthat a talk with The Gray Phantom would quickly end the suspense.
Reaching the gate in the picket fence that encircled the apex of thehill, she touched an electric button. While waiting she looked abouther. The Susquehanna, like a cocoon thread, wound in and out among thehills and valleys in the distance. The moon, shining through a vaporygauze, splashed a misty sheen over bowlders and trees.
She heard a dog's shrill bark, and a masculine figure came down thegraveled walk toward the gate. As he drew nearer and the palemoonlight fell on him, she saw he was stocky and coarse-featured, andshe guessed he was one of the sentinels that were always stationedabout the place.
"What do you want?" he asked ungraciously as he reached the gate.
"I wish to see Mr. Vanardy," she announced, using the name by whichthe occupant of Azurecrest had been known before he became The GrayPhantom.
She thought the man repressed a start, but she reflected that hisevident surprise was natural enough, since visitors seldom came toAzurecrest.
"Mr. Vanardy, eh?" He drew an instrument from his pocket and flashedan electric gleam in her face. For a long moment he studied her insilence. "You mean The Gray Phantom?"
"Yes."
He hesitated, still searching her face in the light of the electricflash. It was plain that the appearance of a feminine visitor at thegate of Azurecrest had aroused his suspicion.
"What do you want to see him about?" he demanded gruffly.
"Tell him Miss Hardwick wishes to see him. I think that will besufficient."
She drew herself up as she spoke and regarded him steadily. As ifdecided by her cool and level tones, the man lowered the light andturned away, and in a few moments he had been swallowed by the shadowscast by the tall trees. Helen controlled her impatience. Sheunderstood that The Gray Phantom was obliged to exercise care everymoment of his life. Despite his new mode of existence, he was still anoutlaw in the eyes of the police, and a number of outstanding chargesmade it necessary for him to observe every precaution.
Again the man emerged out of the shadows. This time he said nothing,but peered at her furtively as he opened the gate and motioned her tostep through. He closed and locked the gate carefully, then walkedahead of her up the graveled walk. A great shaggy dog slouched at hisheels and wagged its tail energetically, as if disturbed by thearrival of a visitor. Helen's guide stopped under a portico and openeda door. A dim light shone on his face as he turned and told her toenter, and his expression gave her a twinge of misgiving. She tried invain to analyze it, and the next moment the disturbing impression wasgone.
"Wait," he said, indicating a chair.
Helen felt relieved as soon as the door closed behind him. The roomwas large and pleasant, and the oak-paneled, cream-colored walls madean attractive background for the furniture and decorations. Eachlittle detail suggested The Gray Phantom's instinctive taste forbeauty and proportion, and it suddenly occurred to her that this wasthe same room in which he had received her on her previous visit toAzurecrest.
Footfalls sounded in the hall, and all at once she grew confused. Shewondered how she was to broach the subject that had been in herthoughts constantly since last night. She started to rise as the dooropened, but in the next instant she sat back and swallowed anexclamation of surprise. She had expected to see The Gray Phantom, butthe person who entered was a short, slightly humpbacked man of aboutfifty. He jerked his head toward her by way of a bow, and as he smiledshe noticed that his mouth was crooked.
"My name is Hawkes," he announced in soft, lisping accents. "I am thesecretary. I understand you wish to see Mr. Vanardy. Have you anappointment with him?"
A faint touch of uneasiness mingled with Helen's impatience. The GrayPhantom had never mentioned that he had a secretary, and she doubtedwhether he was in the habit of making appointments.
"I have no appointment," she said, mastering her vexation anddisquietude, "but I think Mr. Vanardy will see me if you mention myname."
"Ah! Then you are a friend of his?"
"I have met him several times."
"To be sure," said the little man. He rubbed his hands, which seemedabnormally large for one of his sparse stature. "But, if you knowanything at all about Mr. Vanardy, you must realize that he has toexercise caution, particularly in regard to the people he meets."
Helen rose, a faint flush of indignation in her cheeks. The nextmoment she sat down again, for she realized that Hawkes' argument wasreasonable. The Gray Phantom's existence was precarious enough towarrant every conceivable precaution.
"I know Mr. Vanardy will see me if you tell him who I am," shedeclared, looking straight into the little man's eyes.
"Quite likely. But I have orders, and I dare not disregard them. Begood enough to answer one or two questions. To begin with, what is thenature of your business with Mr. Vanardy?"
Helen's patience was almost exhausted, but her sense of humor came toher rescue. Her lips began to twitch.
"Tell Mr. Vanardy," she said, "that the subject I wish to discuss withhim has to do with a certain Mr. Shei."
The little man's eyes opened wide. She fancied his hand shook a trifleas he made an annotation on the pad he carried.
"Quite so," he murmured, quickly controlling himself. "You have comehere on business connected with a certain Mr. Shei. Just one morequestion. Very few people know there is such a place as Azurecrest.How did you happen to find it?"
"Mr. Vanardy once gave me the directions. But you are exertingyourself needlessly, Hawkes. I am sure all that is necessary is tomention my name to Mr. Vanardy."
"Perhaps so." The humpback made another annotation on the pad, afterwhich he put it in his pocket. "I'll repeat to Mr. Vanardy what youhave just told me." He walked out of the room.
Helen could not tell why, but the silence that fell upon the room asthe door closed impressed her uncomfortably. She did her best tomuffle a faint inward whisper of warning, a premonition that somethingwas wrong. Hawkes' questions had left a train of disturbing thoughtsin her mind.
She waited a few minutes, then got up and began to pace the floor inan effort to quell a rising nervousness. She glanced at the pictureson the walls, but they did not seem to be the same as those that hadhung there on her last visit, and they f
ailed to interest her.
Presently she stepped to the window and looked out. The trees werenodding drowsily in the gentle night wind. The mist rising from thelowlands on all sides of the hill gave her a curious sense ofremoteness from the world.
Then she drew back a step suddenly. Someone was passing the window,and she caught a momentary glimpse of a face. For a second or two apair of large and oddly piercing eyes were fixed on her. Then thefigure vanished, but the vision left her white and shaken. A hoarsecry rose to her lips. Unless her imagination had deceived her, theface that had just passed the window was the same swarthy, loathsomeface she had seen in the Thelma Theater scarcely twenty-four hoursago.
Seized with a great fear, she ran across the floor and opened thedoor. The face, with its squatty features and long black hairfluttering in the breeze, had crystallized all the vague misgivingsshe had felt since she entered the house. For the moment she wasunable to think, but an unreasoning impulse to flee drove her swiftlydown the long hall. She felt she must escape from Azurecrest at once.
She had nearly reached the end of the hall when she came to a deadstop. She stood rigid, listening. Somewhere a laugh sounded. Thestaccato accents seemed to fill the house with volumes of hideoussound. Each vibrant note conjured up a fearful picture before hereyes. She staggered back against the wall, stopping her ears to shutout a repetition of the sound, but the echoes of it lingered in herimagination. She knew the laugh well. It was the same kind of laughthat Virginia Darrow had taken with her into eternity.
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