The Case and the Girl

by Randall Parrish

  CHAPTER XXIX

  THE HOUSE IN THE BLUFFS

  The cleft in the bluff was both narrow and steep, but it gave thempassage. At the upper end Natalie's reserve strength suddenly desertedher, and she sank down on the grass, labouring for breath, feeling unableto advance a step farther. The days and nights of excitement, coupledwith lack of food and sleep, had left her physically weakened; nowsuddenly, even her will and courage both gave away.

  "No, it is nothing," she explained in a whisper. "I am just completelytired out, I guess. You go on, Matt, and find some place of shelter.Leave me to lie here; I'll not move, and you can find me easily. All Iwant now is to rest a few moments. Afraid! no I'll not be afraid. Why,what is there to fear? this is a civilized country, isn't it? I'lljust sit where I am now until you come back--only--only don't go veryfar away."

  She held out her hand, and endeavoured to smile.

  "Desert me! Of course you are not, dear. I am bidding you go. I shallnot mind being left here alone. I am so tired."

  They were at the summit of the bluff, looking out over the lake, now amere darker blot. They could hear the dash of waves below them along theedge of sand. But in the opposite direction rose a somewhat higher ridgeon which trees grew, completely excluding the view beyond. Between thebranches the distant sky still retained a purple tinge from the sinkingsun, leaving the impression that it was much lighter up there. West feltthe importance of gaining a view inland before the closing down of nightobscured everything, and therefore reluctantly left her alone there whilehe made his way to the top of the ridge. Once there he could look acrossthe promontory of land, down into a little cove on the opposite side. Itwas well sheltered, and already wrapped in gloomy shadows, yet his eyesdetected the outline of a boat of some size drawn up on the sandy beach.Beyond the dim certainty of what it was he could perceive nothing withwhich to identify the craft, and deeming it some fishing boat, gave itspresence there no further heed.

  Glancing back to assure himself that Natalie was still safe where he hadleft her, he picked his way swiftly forward through the thick fringe offorest trees, until he came to the western edge of the wood, and couldview the country beyond in the last spectral glow of the dying day. Itwas a wild, broken country thus revealed to his gaze, a land of ridgesand ravines, rugged and picturesque, but exhibiting no evidence of roads,or inhabitants. Its very roughness of outline, and its sterile soil,explained the barrenness and desolation--a no-man's land, impossible ofcultivation, it remained neglected and unused. At first he was sure ofthis, his heart sinking at the deserted landscape. They must plungeblindly forward in the dark over that rough, trackless country, seekingsome possible shelter beyond. Weakened and exhausted as they both werethe task seemed almost an impossible one. Then his eyes caught a thinspiral of smoke rising from out a narrow valley almost directly beneathwhere he stood, the depths of which were totally concealed from sight. Ashe stared at this, uncertain of its reality, a single spark of lightwinked out at him through the darkness. There was certainly a habitationof some kind hidden away down there--a fisherman's hut likely--but itwould at least afford temporary shelter for the night; and there must bea road or path of some kind leading from it to the nearest village. Ifhe could only leave Natalie there in safe hands, in the security of ahome, however humble, food would give him strength to push on alone. Theone thought in his mind now was to telegraph McAdams, so as to circumventthe plans of those rascals in Chicago. This must be done, and it must bedone at the earliest moment possible. Perhaps the fisherman might possessa horse, or would carry the necessary message into town himself. Westturned and hastened back through the woods, clambering down the slope ofthe ridge in darkness to the spot where he had left the girl. For themoment he could not distinguish her presence in the gloom, and, fearinghe might have gone astray, called her name aloud.

  "Yes," she answered. "I am here; to your right. I am, standing up. Haveyou discovered anything?"

  "There is a house of some kind over yonder in a hollow just beyond theridge--more than likely a fisherman's hut, as there is a boat of somekind beached in the cove the other side of this promontory. We will haveto stumble along through the dark. Do you think you can make it?"

  "Of course, I can," and she placed her hand confidingly in his. "I am allright now; really I am; I guess all I needed was to get my breath. Do wego up here--the way you came back?"

  "I presume so; I know no other passage, and found no path."

  "But," she urged. "If there is a boat on the beach, isn't it likely therewould be a trail from there to this fisherman's hut?"

  "Why, of course; it was stupid of me not to think of this before. Thesooner we start, the quicker we shall arrive. I want most of all totelegraph McAdams."

  "Who?"

  "McAdams, the detective I told you about in Chicago, an old army buddy ofmine. He'll have Hobart located by this time, no doubt, and will put thescrews on him when he learns what has happened to us."

  "I see," she agreed softly, "and if he does know the whole story we neednot be so crazy to get back. He will attend to everything."

  "Yes; we can wait up here until morning at least; you need a night'srest, and no wonder."

  He grasped her arm, helping her to clamber up the steep bank, suddenlybecoming aware that the sleeve felt dry.

  "Why, Natalie, your clothes seem to have all dried off already; mine aresoaked through," he exclaimed in surprise. "What necromancy is this?"

  She laughed, a faint tinge of mockery in the sound.

  "No mystery whatever; only a difference in texture, I imagine. This lightstuff dries quickly, exposed to the air. Did you think you had hold ofthe wrong girl?"

  The tone of her voice stung slightly, causing him to make a sober answer.

  "That would, of course, be improbable, but I have been so completelydeceived, even by daylight, that I dare not affirm that it would proveimpossible. Your counterfeit is certainly a wizard."

  "She must be. But as she is miles away from here, you might let thesuspicion rest. Is this where we go down?"

  She led the way, the action awakening no question in his mind. If hethought at all about her thus assuming the initiative, the suspicion wasdismissed with the idea that probably her eyes were more keen to discoverthe best path. In this she was certainly successful, and he contentedhimself by following her closely. The night was already dark, the wayirregular and confusing. She was but a dim shadow, advancingconfidently, and now and then in their descent, he reached out andtouched her to make sure of her presence. This action seemed to irritatefor she turned once, and objected shortly.

  "Oh, don't do that, please; it startles me. My nerves are all on edge."

  "Of course they are, dear," he confessed apologetically. "I should haveknown better. It was so dark I almost thought you had slipped away. Theboat I told you about must be close at hand."

  "The boat; oh, yes, but it can be of no use to us now. Feel here withyour feet; I am sure this must be a path that I am in, and it can leadnowhere except to that house you saw."

  "Can you follow it?"

  "I think so; it seems to go straight up through the ravine; see, you cantrace the bluff against the sky, and there is the opening just ahead ofus. You may take my arm again now," she added graciously, "and then therewill be no danger of either getting lost."

  He gladly did as she suggested, yet, strangely enough, continued to feeldissatisfied. Vaguely he felt that in some almost imperceptible mannershe had changed her mood. He could not base his thoughts on a singleword, or action, yet he felt the difference--this was not the Natalie ofthe raft. She was too irritable; too sharp of speech. But then, no doubt,she was tired, worn out, her nerves broken; indeed he found it hard tocontrol himself, and he must not blame her for exhibiting weakness underthe strain. So he drove the thought from him, clinging close to her arm,and vaguely wondering how she was able to trace the path so easily. Theyseemed to progress through an impenetrable wall of blackness, and yet theway had been cleared of obstacles, and was reaso
nably smooth. The slopeupward was quite gradual, and the summit led directly into the mouth of asmall valley. By this time even West could recognize that they wereproceeding along a well used path, and he was not surprised when sheannounced the presence of the house before them, pointing out the dimshadow through the gloom. Otherwise his eyes might have failed todistinguish the outlines, but under her guidance he could make out enoughof its general form to assure him that they were approaching no merefisherman's shack.

  "That is no hut," he exclaimed in surprise. "It looks more like amansion."

  "And why not?" pleasantly enough. "I have always heard these bluffs werefilled with summer homes. Unfortunately this one appears to be deserted.But we must go on, and try to discover some inhabitant."

  There was no light to guide them, yet the path was easily followed,through what apparently was an orchard, then through the gate of a rusticfence to a broad carriage drive, circling past the front door. All wassilence, desolation; no window exhibited a gleam of radiance, nor did asound greet them from any direction. They paused an instant before thefront door, uncertain how to proceed.

  "But there must be some one about here," West insisted. "For this wasthe house I saw from the ridge, and there was a light burning then inone of the windows, and there was a wisp of smoke rising from a chimney.Perhaps the shutters are all closed, or, early as it is, the people mayhave retired."

  She stepped boldly forward, and placed her hand on the knob of the door.

  "Why," she whispered, excitedly. "It is unlocked; see, I can open it.Perhaps something is wrong here. What shall we do?"

  "Knock first; then if there is no response, we can feel our way aboutinside. My matches are all wet."

  She rapped sharply on the wood; waited for some reply, and then calledout. Not a sound reached them from within. The situation was strange,nerve-racking, and she shrank back as though frightened before the blacksilence confronting her. West, his teeth clinched, stepped in through theopen door, determined to learn the secret of that mysterious interior.With hands outstretched he felt his way forward, by sense of touch aloneassuring himself that he traversed a hall, carpeted, his extended armsbarely reaching from wall to wall. He encountered no furniture, and musthave advanced some two yards, before his groping disclosed the presenceof a closed door on the left. He had located the knob, when the outerdoor suddenly closed, as though blown shut by a draught of wind, and, atthe same instant, his eyes were blinded by a dazzling outburst of light.

  This came with such startling, unexpected brilliancy that West staggeredback as though struck. For the instant he was positively blind; then hedimly perceived a man standing before him--a man who, little by little,became more clearly defined, recognizable, suddenly exhibiting thefeatures of Jim Hobart, sarcastically grinning into his face.

  "You are evidently a cat of nine lives, West," he said sneeringly. "Butthis ought to be the last of them."