A Double Knot Part 62

Gertrude's tears began to flow and half blinded her, but she hurried away to prepare herself, while Huish walked quickly from room to room, muttering impatiently. Not that there was much need, for Gertrude reappeared at the end of a minute or two, rapidly tying on her hat, to find the gas turned down.

"I am ready, dear," she said, laying her hand upon his arm.

"That's right," he cried. "Come along!"

"Shall I tell cook how long we shall be?" said Gertrude.

"No, no. Come along," he cried impatiently, and, hurrying her out of the house, he helped her into a cab. "Cannon Street Station," he cried to the driver, and jumping in beside her, the cab rattled off.

"Are we going to leave town, dear?"

"You'll soon see," he cried. "I can't talk to you now; the cab-wheels make so much noise. Can't you trust me?"

"Oh yes," she cried, laying her hand upon his arm, "but you forget how anxious I am to know more."

"Well, well, be patient," he cried. "There, if you must know, I have been short of money."

"Yes, dear, of course. I knew. You forget," she said piteously.

"Yes, of course," he replied. "Well, I was arrested for debt, and I have got away. We must stay in private--there, I'll speak plainly--in hiding for a time."

"Oh, John dear, this is very terrible!" she cried. "Why not go to Uncle Robert? He would help us, I am sure."

"Yes, perhaps so. We will settle that afterwards. The first thing is to get to a place of safety."

"Safety, John dear?"

"Well, you don't want me to remain in prison?" he said.

"Oh no, dear," she cried, clinging to him. "But, d.i.c.k--my father!"

"What about them?" he said sharply.

"What did they say to you?"

"When? How?" he asked.

"They came after you, dear," she said simply.

"Oh yes; they are busy with the police, of course."

She sat listening to the noise of the cab-wheels as it rattled along in the direction of the City.

Nothing more was said till the vehicle drew up, when Huish leaped out and helped her to alight. He then handed the cabman a liberal fare and exclaimed: "Come along, or we shall miss the train."

He hurried her into the station, along the platform, and into the waiting-room.

"Sit down a minute," he exclaimed, and he went to the door to look out, but returned directly, looking so strange that Gertrude shrank from him involuntarily, and had to make an effort to master a curious feeling of repugnance which came over her.

He drew her arm quickly through his, and, bidding her lower her veil, led her hastily out of the station, across the road and into a narrow lane.

"Are we not going by train?" she asked.

"No; it is too late. Just gone. Come along, and don't talk."

She hurried along by his side, for he was walking very fast, and only noticed that they went through a perfect maze of narrow turnings, now up, now down, Huish stopping from time to time to look back to see if they were followed.

He kept this up for nearly an hour, and Gertrude was getting hot and exhausted, when he turned sharply into a darker and narrower lane, glancing rapidly up and down the deserted place with its two or three lamps and dimly-lighted public-house. The next moment he had thrust her into a heavy doorway, there was a rattle of a latch-key, and Gertrude felt herself drawn into a dark pa.s.sage, and the door was closed.

"John!" she whispered, as the tremor which had before attacked her returned.

"Safe at last!" he muttered, drawing his breath with a low hiss, and not heeding her. "Tired?"

"Rather, dear," she panted. "But, John, what place is this?"

"My sanctuary," he said, in a peculiar voice. "Give me your hand. Come along. I'll tell you when the stairs begin."

He led her along the dark pa.s.sage, and a strange chill of dread struck upon Gertrude. As they reached the first landing, a light suddenly shone out, and a few steps higher she gazed wonderingly at the weird figure of an old woman, with long, grey, unkempt hair, holding an ill-smelling paraffin lamp high above her head.

There was an intent, curious, inquiring look in the old woman's eyes, as they seemed to fasten upon the new-comer, gradually growing vindictive, as they pa.s.sed her without a word.

"Who is that?" whispered Gertrude.

"Servant," said Huish laconically. "Won't make you jealous, eh?"

"John," she whispered back in a pained voice; "why do you speak to me like that?"

"Oh, it's only my way," he said flippantly. "Come along."

They went up farther, and, reaching the second floor, Huish threw open the door of a comfortable, well-lit room, and drew her in, hastily opened the door of communication with the next room, satisfied himself that it was empty, went on and locked the farther door leading out to the landing, and returned.

"There," he said; "you will be safe here."

"Oh yes, John dear," she said, gazing at him wonderingly, "his manner seemed so strange; but I am so anxious to know."

"Yes, yes; all in good time, dear," he cried. "There, off with that hat and jacket. Why, my dear," he cried, "you look lovely!"

There was a hot red spot in his cheeks as he spoke in a curiously excited way, and Gertrude felt a strange sense of shrinking as he hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed away her jacket, threw it on a chair, and clasped her in his arms.

"John," she cried, struggling to free herself, "look! look!"

He loosed his grasp and turned suddenly upon a figure which stood right in the doorway, that of a tall handsome woman, looking ghastly pale, and her great eyes dilated with rage and surprise. She had evidently risen from a sick couch, and wore a long loose white dressing-gown, which, with her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, gave her an almost supernatural look, heightened by the silence in which she gazed from one to another.

"What are you doing here?" cried Huish sharply. "I thought you were in bed--ill."

"I was," replied the woman slowly, "till I heard you return."

"Go back to it then," he said brutally; "why do you come here?"