“It missed by a mile.” My nerves had not recovered and I spoke abruptly. “Don’t be frightened.”
“I—I was not frightened,” she said, without conviction.
“I was,” I said, with conviction. “It was too sudden for me. It’s the sort of thing one wants to get used to gradually. I shall be ready for it another time.”
I made for the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to call up the police-station.”
“Peter.”
“Yes?”
“Was—was that man the one you spoke of?”
“Yes, that was Buck MacGinnis. He and Sam have gone into partnership.”
She hesitated.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I was halfway up the stairs by this time. I stopped and looked over the banisters.
“Sorry?”
“I didn’t believe you this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” I said. I tried to make my voice indifferent, for I was on guard against insidious friendliness. I had bludgeoned my mind into an attitude of safe hostility towards her, and I saw the old chaos ahead if I allowed myself to abandon it.
I went to the telephone and unhooked the receiver.
There is apt to be a certain leisureliness about the methods of country telephone-operators, and the fact that a voice did not immediately ask me what number I wanted did not at first disturb me. Suspicion of the truth came to me, I think, after my third shout into the receiver had remained unanswered. I had suffered from delay before, but never such delay as this.
I must have remained there fully two minutes, shouting at intervals, before I realized the truth. Then I dropped the receiver and leaned limply against the wall. For the moment I was as stunned as if I had received a blow. I could not even think. It was only by degrees that I recovered sufficiently to understand that Audrey was speaking to me.
“What is it? Don’t they answer?”
It is curious how the mind responds to the need for making an effort for the sake of somebody else. If I had had only myself to think of, it would, I believe, have been a considerable time before I could have adjusted my thoughts to grapple with this disaster. But the necessity of conveying the truth quietly to Audrey and of helping her to bear up under it steadied me at once. I found myself thinking quite coolly how best I might break to her what had happened.
“I’m afraid,” I said, “I have something to tell you which may—”
She interrupted me quickly.
“What is it? Can’t you make them answer?”
I shook my head. We looked at each other in silence.
Her mind leaped to the truth more quickly than mine had done.
“They have cut the wire!”
I took up the receiver again and gave another call. There was no reply.
“I’m afraid so,” I said.
XV
I
“What shall we do?” said Audrey.
She looked at me hopefully, as if I were a mine of ideas. Her voice was level, without a suggestion of fear in it. Women have the gift of being courageous at times when they might legitimately give way. It is part of their unexpectedness.
This was certainly such an occasion. Daylight would bring us relief, for I did not suppose that even Buck MacGinnis would care to conduct a siege which might be interrupted by the arrival of tradesmen’s carts; but while the darkness lasted we were completely cut off from the world. With the destruction of the telephone wire our only link with civilization had been snapped. Even had the night been less stormy than it was, there was no chance of the noise of our warfare reaching the ears of anyone who might come to the rescue. It was as Sam had said, Buck’s energy united to his strategy formed a strong combination.
Broadly speaking, there are only two courses open to a beleaguered garrison. It can stay where it is, or it can make a sortie. I considered the second of these courses.
It was possible that Sam and his allies had departed in the automobile to get reinforcements, leaving the coast temporarily clear; in which case, by escaping from the house at once, we might be able to slip unobserved through the grounds and reach the village in safety. To support this theory there was the fact that the car, on its late visit, had contained only the chauffeur and the two ambassadors, while Sam had spoken of the remainder of Buck’s gang as being in readiness to attack in the event of my not coming to terms. That might mean that they were waiting at Buck’s headquarters, wherever those might be—at one of the cottages down the road, I imagined; and, in the interval before the attack began, it might be possible for us to make our sortie with success.
“Is Ogden in bed?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Will you go and get him up as quickly as you can?”
I strained my eyes at the window, but it was impossible to see anything. The rain was still falling heavily. If the drive had been full of men they would have been invisible to me.
Presently Audrey returned, followed by Ogden. The Little Nugget was yawning the aggrieved yawns of one roused from his beauty sleep.
“What’s all this?” he demanded.
“Listen,” I said. “Buck MacGinnis and Smooth Sam Fisher have come after you. They are outside now. Don’t be frightened.”
He snorted derisively.
“Who’s frightened? I guess they won’t hurt me. How do you know it’s them?”
“They have just been here. The man who called himself White, the butler, was really Sam Fisher. He has been waiting an opportunity to get you all the term.”
“White! Was he Sam Fisher?” He chuckled admiringly. “Say, he’s a wonder!”
“They have gone to fetch the rest of the gang.”
“Why don’t you call the cops?”
“They have cut the wire.”
His only emotions at the news seemed to be amusement and a renewed admiration for Smooth Sam. He smiled broadly, the little brute.
“He’s a wonder!” he repeated. “I guess he’s smooth, all right. He’s the limit! He’ll get me all right this trip. I bet you a nickel he wins out.”
I found
