Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society

by L. Frank Baum

  CHAPTER XXII

  GONE

  The grim face of Madame Cerise relaxed to allow a quaint smile to flitacross it. She returned Fogerty's bow with a deep curtsy.

  Mershone, after one brief exclamation of dismay, wrested from him bysurprise, threw himself into the chair again and stared at the fire.For a few moments there was intense stillness in the little room.

  "How easy it is," said Fogerty, in soft, musing tones, "to read one'sthoughts--under certain circumstances. You are thinking, Mr. Mershone,that I'm a boy, and not very strong, while you are an athlete and caneasily overpower me. I have come at a disagreeable time, and all yourplans depend on your ability to get rid of me. But I've four good menwithin call, who are just now guarding the approaches to this house.They'd like to come in, I know, because it's very cold and disagreeableoutside; but suppose we allow them to freeze for a time? Ah, I thoughtyou'd agree with me, sir--I overheard you say you were about to visitMiss Merrick, who is confined in a room upstairs, but I'd like you topostpone that while we indulge in a little confidential chat together.You see--"

  The door-bell rang violently. Fogerty glanced at Madame Cerise. "Willyou see who it is?" he asked.

  She arose at once and left the room. Mershone turned quickly.

  "What's your price, Fogerty?" he asked, meaningly.

  "For what?"

  "For getting out of here--making tracks and leaving me alone. Every manhas his price, and I'm trapped--I'm willing to pay anything--I'll--"

  "Cut it out, sir. You've tried this once before. I'm not to be bribed."

  "Have you really a warrant for my arrest?"

  "I've carried it since Friday. It's no use, Mershone, the game's up andyou may as well grin and bear it."

  Mershone was about to reply when the door opened and Diana Von Taer camein with a swift, catlike tread and confronted him with flaming eyes.

  "You coward! You low, miserable scoundrel! How dare you come here toannoy and browbeat that poor girl?" she cried in clear, cutting accents,without noticing the presence of Fogerty.

  "Oh, shut up, Di, you're in it as deep as I am," he retorted, turningaway with a flushed face.

  "I'm not, sir! Never have I countenanced this wicked, criminal act," shedeclared. "I have come here to-day to save Louise from your wiles andcarry her back to her friends. I dare you, or your confederates," with ascornful look at the detective, "to interfere with me in any way." Thenshe turned to Cerise and continued: "Where is Miss Merrick now?"

  "In your own room, ma'm'seile."

  "Come with me, then."

  With a defiant glance at Mershone she turned haughtily and left theroom. Cerise followed obediently, somewhat astonished at the queer turnof events.

  Left alone with Mershone, Fogerty chuckled gleefully.

  "Why, it seems I wasn't needed, after all," said he, "and we've both ofus taken a lot of trouble for nothing, Mershone. The chances are MissVon Taer would have turned the trick in any event, don't you think so?" "No, you don't understand her. She wouldn't have interfered if shehadn't been scared out," growled the other. "She's sacrificed me to saveherself, that's all."

  "You may be right about that," admitted Fogerty; and then he got up toanswer the door-bell, which once more rang violently.

  An automobile stood outside, and from it an excited party trooped intothe hallway, disregarding the cutting wind and blinding snowflakes thatassailed them as they passed in. There was Arthur Weldon and Uncle John,Patricia and Beth; and all, as they saw the detective, cried with onevoice:

  "Where's Louise?"

  Fogerty had just managed to close the door against the wintry blast whenthe answer came from the stairway just above:

  "She is gone!"

  The voice was shrill and despairing, and looking up they saw Dianastanding dramatically posed upon the landing, her hands clasped over herheart and a look of fear upon her face. Over her shoulder the startledblack eyes of old Cerise peered down upon the group below.

  The newcomers were evidently bewildered by this reception. They had cometo rescue Louise, whom they imagined confined in a lonely deserted villawith no companion other than the woman who guarded her. Arthur's owndetective opened the door to them and Diana Von Taer, whom theycertainly did not expect to meet here, confronted them with thethrilling statement that Louise had gone.

  Arthur was the first to recover his wits.

  "Gone!" he repeated; "gone where?"

  "She had escaped--run away!" explained Diana, in real distress.

  "When?" asked Uncle John.

  "Just now. Within an hour, wasn't it, Cerise?"

  "At ten o'clock I left her, now she is gone," said the old woman, whoappeared as greatly agitated as her mistress.

  "Good gracious! you don't mean to say she's left the house in thisstorm?" exclaimed Patsy, aghast at the very thought.

  "What shall we do? What _can_ we do?" demanded Beth, eagerly.

  Fogerty started up the stairs. Cerise turned to show him the way, andthe others followed in an awed group.

  The key was in the lock of the door to the missing girl's room, but thedoor itself now stood ajar. Fogerty entered, cast a sharp look aroundand walked straight to the window. As the others came in, glancingcuriously about them and noting the still smouldering fire and theevidences of recent occupation, the detective unlatched the Frenchwindow and stepped out into the snow that covered the roof of the littleporch below. Arthur sprang out beside him, leaving the rest to shiver inthe cold blast that rushed in upon them from the open window.

  Fogerty, on his knees, scanned the snow carefully, and although Weldoncould discover no sign of a footprint the young detective nodded hishead sagaciously and slowly made his way to the trellis at the end. Hereit was plain that the accumulation of snow had recently been brushedaway from the frail framework. "It was strong enough to hold her,though," declared Fogerty, looking over the edge of the roof. "I'lldescend the same way, sir. Go back by the stairs and meet me below."

  He grasped the lattice and began cautiously to lower himself to theground, and Arthur turned to rejoin his friends in the room.

  "That is the way she escaped, without doubt," he said to them. "Poorchild, she had no idea we were about to rescue her, and her longconfinement had made her desperate."

  "Did she have a cloak, or any warm clothes?" asked Beth. Madame Cerisehurriedly examined the wardrobe in the closets.

  "Yes, ma'm'selle; she has taken a thick coat and a knit scarf," sheanswered. But I am sure she had no gloves, and her shoes were verythin."

  "How long do you think she has been gone?" Patsy enquired.

  "Not more than an hour. I was talking with Mr. Mershone, and--"

  "Mershone! Is he here?" demanded Arthur.

  "He is in my room downstairs--or was when you came," said the woman.

  "That accounts for her sudden flight," declared the young man, bitterly."She doubtless heard his voice and in a sudden panic decided to fly. DidMershone see her?" he asked.

  "No, m'sieur," replied Cerise.

  With one accord they descended to the lower hall and the caretaker ledthe way to her room. To their surprise they found Mershone still seatedin the chair by the fire, his hands clasped behind his head, a cigarettebetween his lips.

  "Here is another crime for you to account for!" cried Arthur, advancingupon him angrily. "You have driven Louise to her death!"

  Mershone raised one hand in mild protest.

  "Don't waste time cursing me," he said. "Try to find Louise before it istoo late."

  The reproach seemed justified. Arthur paused and turning to Mr. Merricksaid:

  "He is right. I'll go help Fogerty, and you must stay here and lookafter the girls until we return." As he went out he passed Dianawithout a look. She sat in a corner of the room sobbing miserably. Bethwas thoughtful and quiet, Patsy nervous and indignant. Uncle John wasapparently crushed by the disaster that had overtaken them. Mershone'ssuggestion that Louise might perish in the storm was no idle one; thegirl was not on
ly frail and delicate but worn out with her longimprisonment and its anxieties. They all realized this.

  "I believe," said Mershone, rising abruptly, "I'll go and join thesearch. Fogerty has arrested me, but you needn't worry about my tryingto escape. I don't care what becomes of me, now, and I'm going straightto join the detective."

  They allowed him to go without protest, and he buttoned his coat and setout in the storm to find the others. Fogerty and Arthur were by thistime in the lane back of the grounds, where the detective was advancingslowly with his eyes fixed on the ground.

  "The tracks are faint, but easily followed," he was saying, "The highheels of her shoes leave a distinct mark."

  When Mershone joined them Arthur scowled at the fellow but said nothing.Fogerty merely smiled.

  From the lane the tracks, already nearly obliterated by the fast fallingsnow, wandered along nearly a quarter of a mile to a crossroads, wherethey became wholly lost.

  Fogerty looked up and down the roads and shook his head with a puzzledexpression.

  "We've surely traced her so far," said he, "but now we must guess at herfurther direction. You'll notice this track of a wagon. It may havepassed fifteen minutes or an hour ago. The hoof tracks of the horses arecovered, so I'm not positive which way they headed; I only know thereare indications of hoof tracks, which proves it a farmer's wagon. Thequestion is, whether the young lady met it, and caught a ride, orwhether she proceeded along some of the other trails. I can't find anyindication of those high-heeled shoes from this point, in any direction.Better get your car, Mr. Weldon, and run east a few miles, keeping sharpwatch of the wagon tracks on the way. It was a heavy wagon, for thewheels cut deep. Mershone and I will go west. When you've driven farenough to satisfy yourself you're going the wrong direction, you mayeasily overtake us on your return. Then, if we've discovered nothing onthis road, we'll try the other." Arthur ran back at once to the houseand in a few minutes had started on his quest. The motor car waspowerful enough to plow through the deep snow with comparative ease.

  Those left together in Madam Cerise's little room were more to be pitiedthan the ones engaged in active search, for there was nothing to relievetheir fears and anxieties. Diana, unable to bear the accusing looks ofPatsy and Beth, resolved to make a clean breast of her complicity in theaffair and related to them every detail of her connection with hercousin's despicable plot. She ended by begging their forgiveness, andwept so miserably that Uncle John found himself stroking her hair whilePatsy came close and pressed the penitent girl's hand as if to comfortand reassure her.

  Beth said nothing. She could not find it in her heart as yet to forgiveDiana's selfish conspiracy against her cousin's happiness. If Louiseperished in this dreadful storm the proud Diana Von Taer could notescape the taint of murder. The end was not yet.