Johnstone of the Border Part 49

"No." Madge blushed prettily. "Still, he's admitted something; you see, we are friends. Besides, he's a smart officer; they wouldn't waste a man like him on taking soundings. That would be quite absurd."

Elsie's smile was sympathetic, for she thought she understood her friend's belief in Rankine's talents.

"He's here on guard in the west," Madge went on; "Andrew's there, about half way between him and Annan; and now we have a German sailor, who speaks English and has a boat-compa.s.s, at the head of the Solway Firth."

Elsie made an abrupt movement, for Madge had found the missing link and the chain was complete. Men were working night and day at armaments and wars.h.i.+ps on the Clyde. Her face was troubled, but her lips set firm, for she began to see that she could no longer keep her secret. The time when she must act had come.

"I think you have guessed right," she said after a moment or two.

"Then you understand that we have some responsibility."

"I don't see yours."

The color crept into Madge's face.

"Oh, well! For one thing, my brother's with Andrew." Then she put her arm impulsively round Elsie's waist. "We've got to see this through, dear."

Elsie's reserve gave way.

"Yes," she answered steadily; "we must. The man you met has been at Appleyard when they thought we were all asleep--and I'm afraid he'll be here again."

Madge showed no surprise.

"I know how you're fixed. But think! Andrew and Jim may be in danger.

We can't let them get hurt."

"That's impossible! But what must we do?"

"Watch for the German sailor, first of all," Madge advised. "Try to find out what he has come for, and spoil the plot. I'm glad you gave me the room next to yours. I can reach you by that inner door, if it's necessary." She leaned forward and kissed Elsie. "Now you must go to bed, dear. You look anxious and tired."

CHAPTER XXVIII

A WILD RIDE

Elsie went to sleep at last, but her rest was broken and once or twice she awoke with a start. She was uneasy and highly strung, but she heard nothing unusual. The wind moaned about the house and the splash of the little burn rose from the glen. Staffer had gone out before dinner and as he had not come back when she went to bed, she did not think any stranger would visit Appleyard. Telling herself that she must not indulge in nerves, she went to sleep again. Some time later, when lying half awake, she heard a soft rattle; and her heart beat fast, for she knew that the handle of her door was being gently turned. She was glad that she had locked it, though this was the first time she had ever done so.

The sound stopped, a board in the pa.s.sage creaked, and as the shock of alarm began to pa.s.s, Elsie guessed that it was Staffer trying to make sure that she was in her room. This implied that he was going downstairs to meet some one; but she waited until she got calmer, wondering if, after all, she had been mistaken. Staffer could not have returned until late, and it was strange he had allowed his visitor to risk coming to the house when he might be out. She tried to believe he had not done so; but when she heard a faint tap on the other door, which opened into Madge's room, there was no longer any doubt.

Nerving herself for a painful effort, she got up and hastily put on some clothes. Then she went into the other room and saw Madge's shadowy figure standing by the window.

"You heard it?" Madge whispered. "Somebody's gone down. Do you know who it is?"

"Yes. . . . It is my uncle."

Madge put out her hand in the darkness and squeezed Elsie's cold little fingers sympathetically.

"You have to choose between him and Andrew, dear," she said.

"Yes," Elsie agreed in a strange, toneless way.

"Then we must find out what's going on. My brother's on board the _Rowan_ too, you must remember--and there's the survey s.h.i.+p. I was thinking of them all and I couldn't sleep."

"Are you ready to come down?" Elsie asked.

Madge s.h.i.+vered as she opened the door. It was very dark and cold in the pa.s.sage, and she shrank from the adventure; but she followed Elsie, when the girl quietly locked the door, taking out the key.

Elsie had better cause to hesitate than Madge, but her resolution was fixed. Andrew might be threatened and that was enough. She loved him, and he loved her, though he had tried to hide it. He was hers, and, with a woman's deep-rooted instincts, she was ready to fight for him.

The choice she had made was no longer hard. Her uncle had now no claim on her; he was her lover's enemy. For the time, all complexities had vanished; Elsie was driven by primitive impulses. She would protect Andrew as a mother protects her child.

As they approached the top of the stairs, she put out her hand and stopped Madge.

"Not this way," she whispered. "Follow me close. We'll go down by the back."

They turned into a pa.s.sage that led through the servants' part of the house. It was dark and narrow, but Elsie moved down the middle and Madge kept behind her. When they reached a small, back landing, Elsie guided her to a hole in the floor, and, putting down her foot cautiously, Madge felt a step. They were newel stairs and the stone struck cold through her stockings as she tried to find the broader side. When she reached level ground, she crept forward behind Elsie, across a large empty s.p.a.ce which seemed to be the kitchen. The next moment Madge struck something that jarred noisily on the floor, and she and Elsie stopped with frightened gasps. The sound seemed to echo through the house.

They waited, listening with tingling nerves, but all was silent, and they crept on until they came to a closed door. Elsie, putting both hands on the k.n.o.b, turned it cautiously. The latch clicked and they stopped again; but heard nothing. The gloom in front was impenetrable, but a draught of cold air touched their faces and Madge thought they were looking into the hall. After a few moments, she heard a sound that suggested a chair being moved, and then a half-distinguishable murmur. It seemed to come from somewhere near by.

"They're in the drawing-room. Wait here," Elsie whispered; and the next moment Madge was alone.

It was very cold and the darkness was daunting, but she tried to brace herself. Her brother was engaged in dangerous work, and the secret conference that was being held in the room across the hall might threaten him. Then, Rankine had some part in the business. She felt a thrill that brought the blood to her face and gave her courage as she determined that no harm should come to him.

The murmur in the drawing-room grew louder, and Madge wondered if she could get nearer to it. Advancing cautiously into the hall, she tried to remember where the furniture was; but her outstretched hand struck something that rattled, and she stopped, alarmed. She had been on the point of knocking down a vase, and it was plain to her that further progress would involve risk. Elsie had some plan, and a noise would spoil it. Madge went back to her post and waited there in the darkness, highly strung and s.h.i.+vering.

Elsie, in the meantime, had left the house and crept round it on the gra.s.s until she reached a greenhouse built against one side of the drawing-room. The door was open, as she had expected, and, feeling for the edge of a flower-stand, she followed it up until she could crouch down beside the steps leading to a French window. It was closed but not latched, for when she ran her fingers along the joint, she felt an aperture; but she dared not try to pull it open. Still, she could see in. The lamps had not been lighted, but an electric torch lay on the table and threw a ring of light on the opposite wall, two or three feet from the ground. The rest of the room was in darkness, but a dim illumination which spread beyond the bright beam showed two figures faintly.

The men sat at the table. Elsie could not hear what they said; for their voices were low and they spoke in curt sentences. As soon as they had finished their business, one of them would get up and go, and she might not be able to steal away in time; besides, another man might come in by the door behind her. She must risk trying to open the window. She got her fingernails into the crack; but the hinges began to grate, and she let her hand drop. The voices, however, were now a trifle more distinct and she recognized one as her uncle's. Only a word or two was audible here and there, and she could not connect them with what she missed; but, after a time, she heard Staffer say:

"All falls through unless Williamson gets into touch. . . ."

"He must . . . should be there now . . . low water," said the other man.

Elsie missed Staffer's answer, but soon she caught:

"Andrew Johnstone and the American. . . ."

"Must be stopped . . . know too much . . . No scruples . . . can't hesitate."

Staffer laughed; and Elsie shuddered at his half-heard voice.

"I don't . . . do what you like . . . But make sure . . . know too much . . . both dangerous."

Elsie shrank down as Staffer rose and the light traveled along the wall, but the men crossed the floor and she heard a cupboard being opened. They were now near the hall door and she missed what they said; but she had heard enough and must escape before the stranger left by the window.

Stealing out of the greenhouse, she ran back, with her brain busily at work. Madge was waiting where she had left her. Together they crept up the back stairs and into Madge's room.

Elsie was very calm when at last she felt it safe to speak.