THE CHASE IN THE STORM
When we reached the entrance to our quarters on Montgomery Street the rain had once more begun to fall, gently now, but the gusts of damp wind from the south promised more and worse to follow.
"h.e.l.lo!" cried the first man, starting back. "What"s this?"
The line stopped, and I moved forward.
"What is it?" I asked.
"A message for you, Mr. Wilton," said a voice suddenly from the recess of the doorway.
"Give it to me," I said.
A slip of paper was thrust into my hand, and I pa.s.sed up the stairs.
"I"ll wait for you," said the messenger, and at the first gas-jet that burned at the head of the stairs I stopped to read the address.
It was in the hand of the Unknown, and my fatigue and indifference were gone in a moment. I trembled as I tore open the envelope, and read:
"Follow the bearer of this note at 12:30. Come alone and armed. It is important."
There was no signature.
If this meant anything it meant that I was to meet the Unknown, and perhaps to search the heart of the mystery. I had been heavy with fatigue and drowsy with want of sleep, but at this thought the energies of life were once more fresh within me.
With my new-found knowledge it might be more important than even the Unknown was aware, that we should meet. To me, the map, the absence of Darby Meeker and his men, the mysterious hints of murder and death that had come from the lips of Mother Borton, were but vaguely suggestive.
But to the Unknown, with her full knowledge of the objects sought by the enemy and the motives that animated their ceaseless pursuit, the darkness might be luminous, the obscurity clear.
The men had waited a minute for me as I read the note.
"Go to your rooms and get some rest," I said. "I am called away. Trent will be in charge, and I will send word to him if I need any of you."
They looked at me in blank protest.
"You"re not going alone, sir?" cried Owens in a tone of alarm.
"Oh, no. But I shall not need a guard." I hoped heartily that I did not.
The men shook their heads doubtfully, and I continued:
"Corson will be down from the Central Station in fifteen or twenty minutes. Just tell him that I"ve been sent for, and to come to-morrow if he can make it in his way."
And bidding them good night I ran hastily down the stairs before any of the men could frame his protest into words.
"Are you ready, sir?" asked the messenger.
"It is close on half-past twelve," I answered. "Where is she?"
"It"s not far," said my guide evasively.
I understood the danger of speech, and did not press for an answer.
We plunged down Montgomery Street in the teeth of the wind that dashed the spray in our faces at one moment, lulled an instant the better to deceive the unwary, and then leaped at us from behind corners with the impetuous rush of some great animal that turned to vapor as it reached us. The street was dark except for the newspaper offices, which glowed bright with lights on both sides of the way, busy with the only signs of life that the storm and the midnight hour had left.
With the lighted buildings behind us we turned down California Street.
Half-way down the block, in front of the Merchants" Exchange, stood a hack. At the sight my heart beat fast and my breath came quick. Here, perhaps, was the person about whom centered so many of my hopes and fears, in whose service I had faced death, and whose words might serve to make plain the secret springs of the mystery.
As we neared the hack my guide gave a short, suppressed whistle, and pa.s.sing before me, flung open the door to the vehicle and motioned me to enter. I glanced about with some lack of confidence oppressing my spirits. But I had gone too far to retreat, and stepped into the hack.
Instead of following, the guide closed the door gently; I heard him mount the seat by the driver, and in a moment we were in motion.
Was I alone? I had expected to find the Unknown, but the dark interior gave no sign of a companion. Then the magnetic suggestion of the presence of another came to my spirit, and a faint perfume put all my senses on the alert. It was the scent that had come to me with the letters of the Unknown. A slight movement made me certain that some one sat in the farther corner of the carriage.
Was it the Unknown or some agent? And if it proved to be the Unknown, was she the lady I had met in cold business greeting in the courtyard of the Palace Hotel? I waited impatiently for the first street-lamp to throw a gleam of light into the carriage. But when it came I was little the wiser. I could see faintly the outlines of a figure shrouded in black that leaned in the corner, motionless save for the swaying and pitching of the hack as it rolled swiftly down the street.
The situation became a little embarra.s.sing. Was it my place to speak first? I wondered. At last I could endure the silence no longer.
"Quite an unpleasant evening," I remarked politely.
There was a rustle of movement, the sound of a short gasp, and a soft, mournful voice broke on my ear.
"Mr. Dudley--can you forgive me?"
The astonishment I felt to hear my own name once more--the name that seemed now to belong to a former state of existence--was swallowed up as the magnetic tones carried their revelation to my mind.
I was stricken dumb for a moment at the discovery they had brought. Then I gasped:
"Mrs. Knapp!"
"Yes, Mrs. Knapp," she said with a mournful laugh. "Did you never suspect?"
I was lost in wonder and confusion, and even yet could not understand.
"What brings you out in this storm?" I asked, completely mystified. "I thought I was to meet another person."
"Indeed?" said Mrs. Knapp with a spark of animation. "Well, I am the other person."
I was paralyzed in mind and nerve for a moment with the astonishment of the disclosure. Even yet I could not believe.
"You!" I exclaimed at last. "Are you the protector of the boy?
The employer--" Then I stopped, the tangle in my mind beginning to straighten out.
"I am she," said Mrs. Knapp gently.
"Then," I cried, "who is he? what is he? what is the whole dreadful affair about? and what--"
Mrs. Knapp interrupted me.