blanket wrapper from a peg andstruggling into it. "Oh, the poor house! Jack! Jack! I'm coming tohelp! Don't risk your life! I'm coming -- I'm coming----"
Terror clutched her as she stumbled downstairs on bandaged feet.
As she reached the door a great flare of light almost blinded her.
"Jack!"
And at the same instant she saw him struggling with three masked men inthe glare of the wagon-shed afire.
His rifle stood in the corridor outside her door. With one bound shewas on the stairs again. There came the crash and splinter of wood andglass from the kitchen, and a man with a handkerchief over his facecaught her on the landing.
Twice she wrenched herself loose and her fingers almost touchedStormont's rifle; she fought like a cornered lynx, tore the handkerchieffrom her assailant's face, recognised Quintana, hurled her very body athim, eyes flaming, small teeth bared.
Two other men laid hold. In another moment she had tripped Quintana,and all four fell, rolling over and over down the short flight ofstairs, landing in the kitchen, still fighting.
Here, in darkness, she wriggled out, somehow, leaving her blanketwrapped in their clutches. In another instant she was up the stairsagain, only to discover that the rifle was gone.
The red glare from the wagon-house lighted her bedroom; she spranginside and bolted the door.
Her chamois jacket with its loops full of cartridges hung on a peg. Shegot into it, seized her rifle and ran to the window just as two maskedmen, pushing Stormont before them, entered the house by the kitchen way.
Her own door was resounding with kicks and blows, shaking, shiveringunder the furious impact of boot and rifle-butt.
She ran to the bed, thrust her hand under the pillow, pulled out thecase containing the Flaming Jewel, and placed it in the breast pocket ofher shooting jacket.
Again she crept to the window. Only the wagon-house was burning.Somebody, however, had led Stormont's horse from the barn, and had tiedit to a tree at a safe distance. It stood there, trembling, itsbeautiful, nervous head turned toward the burning building.
The blows upon her bedroom door had ceased; there came a loud trampling,the sound of excited voices; Quintana's sarcastic tones, clear,dominant:
"Dios! The police! Why you bring me this gendarme? What am I to dowith a gentleman of the Constabulary, eh? Do you think I am fool enoughto cut his throat? Well, Senor Gendarme, what are you doing here in theDump of Clinch?"
Then Stormont's voice, clear and quiet: "What are _you_ doing here? Ifyou've a quarrel with Clinch, he's not here. There's only a young girlin this house."
"So?" said Quintana. "Well, that is what I expec', my frien'. It isthees lady upon whom I do myse'f the honour to call!"
Eve, listening, heard Stormont's rejoinder, still, calm, and very grave:
"The man who lays a finger on that young girl had better be dead. He'sas good as dead the moment he touches her. There won't be a chance forhim. ... Nor for any of you, if you harm her."
"Calm youse'f, my frien'," said Quintana. "I demand of thees young ladyonly that she return to me the property of which I have been rob byMonsieur Clinch."
"I knew nothing of any theft. Nor does she----"
"Pardon: Senor Clinch knows, and I know." His tone changed,offensively: "Senor Gendarme, am I permit to understan' that you are afrien' of thees young lady? -- a heart-frien', per'aps----"
"I am her friend," said Stormont bluntly.
"Ah," said Quintana, "then you shall persuade her to return to me theespacket of which Monsieur Clinch has rob me."
There was a short silence, then Quintana's voice again:
"I know thees packet is conceel in thees house. Peaceably, if possible,I would recover my property. ... If she refuse----"
Another pause.
"Well?" inquired Stormont, coolly.
"Ah! It is ver' painful to say. Alas, Senor Gendarme, I mus' have myproperty. ... If she refuse, then I mus' sever one of her prettyfingers. ... An' if she still refuse -- I sever her pretty fingers oneby one, until----"
"You know what would happen to _you?_" interrupted Stormont, in a voicethat quivered in spite of himself.
"I take my chance. Senor Gendarme, she is within that room. If you areher frien', you shall advise her to return to me my property."
After another silence.
"Eve!" he called sharply.
She placed her lips to the door: "Yes, Jack."
He said: "There are five masked men out here who say that Clinch robbedthem and they are here to recover their property. ... Do you knowanything about this?"
"I know they lie. My father is not a thief. ... I have my rifle andplenty of ammunition. I shall kill every man who enters this room."
For a moment nobody stirred or spoke. Then Quintana strode to thebolted door and struck it with the butt of his rifle.
"You, in there," he said in a menacing voice, "-- you listen once to_me!_ You open your door and come out. I give you one minute!" Hestruck the door again: "_One_ minute, senorita! -- or I cut from yourfrien', here, the hand from his right arm!"
There was a deathly silence. Then the sound of bolts. The door opened.Slowly the girl limped forward, still wearing the hunting jacket overher night-dress.
Quintana made her an elaborate and ironical bow, slouch hat in hand;another masked man took her rifle.
"Senorita," said Quintana with another sweep of his hat, "I ask pardonthat I trouble you for my packet of which your father has rob me forver' long time."
Slowly the girl lifted her blue eyes to Stormont. He was standingbetween two masked men. Their pistols were pressed slightly against hisstomach.
Stormont reddened painfully:
"It was not for myself that I let you open your door," he said. "Theywould not have ventured to lay hands on _me._"
"Ah," said Quintana with a terrifying smile, "you would not have beenthe first gendarme who had -- _accorded me his hand!_"
Two of the masked men laughed loudly.
* * * * *
Outside in the rag-weed patch, Smith rose, stole across the grass to thekitchen door and slipped inside.
"Now, senorita," said Quintana gaily, "my packet, if you please, -- andwe leave you to the caresses of your faithful gendarme, -- who shouldthank God that he still possesses the good two hands to fondle you!Allons! Come then! My packet!"
One of the masked men said: "Take her downstairs and lock her upsomewhere or she'll shoot us from her window."
"Lead out that gendarme, too!" added Quintana, grasping Eve by the arm.
Down the stairs tramped the men, forcing their prisoners with them.
In the big kitchen the glare from the burning out-house fell dimly; theplace was full of shadows.
"Now," said Quintana, "I take my property and my leave. Where is thepacket hidden?"
She stood for a moment with drooping head, amid the sombre shadows,then, slowly, she drew the emblazoned morocco case form her breastpocket.
What followed occurred in the twinkling of an eye: for, as Quintanaextended his arm to grasp the case, a hand snatched it, a masked figuresprang through the doorway, and ran toward the barn.
Somebody recognized the hat and red bandanna:
"Salzar!" he yelled. "Nick Salzar!"
"A traitor, by God!" shouted Quintana. Even before he had reached thedoor, his pistol flashed twice, deafening all the semi-darkness, chokingthem with stifling fumes.
A masked man turned on Stormont, forcing him back into the pantry atpistol-point. Another man pushed Eve after him, slammed the pantry doorand bolted it.
Through the iron bars of the pantry window, Stormont saw a man, wearinga red bandanna tied under his eyes, run up and untie his horse and flinghimself astride under a shower of bullets.
As he wheeled the horse and swung him into the clearing toward the footof Star Pond, his seat and horsemanship were not to be mistaken.
He was gone, now, the gallop stretching into a dead run; and Qui
ntana'smen still following, shooting, hallooing in the starlight like a pack ofleaping shapes from hell.
But Quintana had not followed far. When he had emptied his automatic hehalted.
Something about the transaction suddenly checked his fury, stilled it,summoned his brain into action.
For a full minute he stood unstirring, every atom of intelligence interrible concentration.
Presently he put his left hand into his pocket, fitted another clip tohis pistol, turned on his heel and walked straight back to the house.
Between the two locked in the pantry not a word had passed. Stormontstill peered out between the iron bars, striving to catch a glimpse ofwhat was going on. Eve crouched at the pantry doors, her face in
The Flaming Jewel Page 22
