The catastrophe that had thus put an end to the honeymoon, drove the
unfortunate husband and wife almost to despair. The thing was monstrous,
incredible. Nevertheless, it had occurred. Jack raged against the unjust
accusation which Dan McGrew had caused to be laid against him; but
neither his wrath nor his entreaties were powerful enough to create even
a doubt on the part of the public of Kalmak as to his guilt. The
evidence against him was, in fact, incontrovertible. His case was made
the worse, also, by the absence of any one who could vouch for his
character. Given time, he could easily enough summon witnesses in his
behalf, though even then the issue might be uncertain. He had no
plausible explanation to offer concerning the presence of the
knife-handle among his effects. He could only deny all knowledge of how
it came there. And such denial was utterly valueless, as Jack himself
realized with utter discouragement.
As for Nell, there was only a single thing to mitigate her misery, and
of this she was hardly conscious. It was that she herself was not
subjected to the indignity of arrest. In this matter, the chivalry of
the community worked in her behalf. These men of the Northland were not
of a sort to war against women. They left such warfare to a more complex
state of civilization.
But, in truth, no arrest was needed for the unhappy bride. Nothing could
have tempted her to leave the place where her husband was in peril.
Indeed, she was like a thorn in the side of the sheriff's ideas
concerning official strictness and decorum--and rose as well as thorn;
for the winsome loveliness of this suffering girl disturbed him greatly,
so that he was fain to grant her privileges which ill accorded with his
conception of official etiquette. It was owing to this laxness under
Nell's persuasion that she was permitted to interview her husband,
though separated from him by the heavy grating in the cell-door, and
though fretted by the presence of the sheriff himself, who sat within
ear-shot, and forbade secret communication.... Those interviews harrowed
the souls of the lovers, for, though each strove to cheer the other,
neither could understand how this calamity had come to pass. Nell
occupied the intervals between visits to her husband in frantic efforts
to devise some means of proving Jack's innocence, or in pitiable
weeping, shut within her squalid hotel-room.
[Illustration: NELL WAS PERMITTED TO INTERVIEW HER HUSBAND.]
It was in the forenoon of the day following his arrest that the prisoner
had his first glimmer of hope. It came to him while he was surveying for
the thousandth time the roughly-hewn timbers that made the walls of his
cell. He had long ago admitted the uselessness of trying to break out,
inasmuch as he had not even a penknife with which to work. Yet, now, as
his glance roved the tiny room, his eyes lighted with hope.
Forthwith, Jack began plotting escape. He understood that his situation
was most desperate. The sheriff, who from pride in his office had added
the cell to his log-house at his own expense, was fond of sitting on
guard in the adjoining room; not so much for the sake of precaution
against the prisoner's escape, as for pleasure in receiving visitors, in
the full majesty of his office. And Jack had heard some of the
low-spoken remarks of the visitors among themselves. He knew that these
men of primitive emotions looked upon him as a murderer, and were
disposed to end the affair in a lynching-bee. Only the sheriff
interposed between him and such a fate, and the man was by no means
strong enough to stand against a mob. Therefore, Jack was convinced that
the only possibility of safety lay in flight. And that flight must be
made at once, or it would be too late.
Little by little, the details of a plan were evolved. He went over the
matter with every care, knowing well that he risked his life on the
accuracy of each detail in his device. Some ideas he rejected; others,
after much testing and readjustment, were approved. In the end, he
became confident that his method might win success--confident that it
would.
His preparations thus complete up to the point of action, the prisoner
did not delay the action itself. For that matter, the opportunity he
desired at the outset was offered to him almost immediately after he had
decided upon his course.
The sheriff, who was a kindly soul, apart from the sternness compelled
by his ideas of high office, repeated a favor he had already shown the
prisoner, by coming to the grating, and thrusting forward a cigar.
"Smoke up, young feller," he said.
Jack took the cigar with due expressions of gratitude, and he was at
pains to conceal the new hopeful eagerness that filled him.
"And here's the match, young feller," the sheriff continued, as he held
it forth. It was one of the regulations formulated by himself that the
inmates of the jail should not be allowed possession of matches.
Of that regulation, Jack was already aware, and to secure its evasion,
he now acted. As the sheriff turned away, in pursuance of his principle
of not encouraging familiarity on the part of a prisoner, Jack tossed
the match to the floor, where it lay invisible in the light which shone
in from the other room. Then he addressed the sheriff, with becoming
humility.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff, but the match went out."
Dan McGrew, in the sheriff's place, would have demanded the return of
that match. Instead, the official turned back promptly, and gave
another, with which the prisoner succeeded in lighting his cigar. The
sheriff, seated at his table, could not see the captive, who stooped and
picked up from the floor the first match, and put it away in his pocket
with extraordinary care.
Thereafter, still careful to escape observation by the sheriff, Jack got
out a stub of pencil which he had been allowed to retain. He secured a
small fragment of paper from the untidy litter on the floor of the cell.
Then, he hastily scribbled a brief note. This was rolled up into a tiny
cylinder with the writing on the inner side. By liberal moistening with
his tongue he managed to make the roll retain its shape. Having
accomplished all he could for the time being, the prisoner, with the
cylinder in his pocket, awaited the coming of Nell.
The wife's advent was not long delayed. Within the hour, the girl
appeared before the sheriff, softly appealing in voice, more softly
appealing in the gaze of her misty eyes. The official strove to frown,
but only succeeded in smirking shamefacedly.
"I suppose it can't do any harm to let you chin a little," he said
grudgingly. "But remember now," he added, shaking a warning finger at
the visitor, "no whispering, an' keep your hands in plain sight all the
time. An' I'll have my eyes on you, you bet!"
With a murmur of thanks, Nell went forward to the grating, where she
stood with her hands duly exposed against the metal bars. Husband and
wife exchanged greetings as best they could, thus forced to speak aloud
so that the sheriff could hear every word. Yet, without anything said
to warrant it, Nell knew instantly that her husband's mood had changed.
There was a light in his eyes, a smile on his lips. And, too, he nodded
almost imperceptibly, very mysteriously. Nell felt her own spirits rise
in response. They spoke of sending to Malamute for a lawyer. They spoke
of securing proof against the actual murderer--at which the sheriff
smiled.
But the sheriff, though he listened so intently, did not watch with
equal closeness. He glanced over some of the papers lying before him.
It was Jack who watched carefully, for much was now at stake. As he saw
the sheriff's gaze averted, he parted his lips, and with his tongue
pushed forward the tiny cylinder of paper, which on the instant of
Nell's arrival, he had placed in his mouth.
The wife perceived the protruding roll in astonishment. Jack moved his
head forward, puckering his lips as for a kiss. Nell understood. She
turned instinctively. The sheriff's eyes were still on his papers. At
once, then, the girl put her own lips to the opening in the grating,
where Jack's waited. The mouths of the two met in a kiss that lingered.
The sheriff looked up, and saw the kiss. He noted that the hands of the
two were duly exposed, as required by the regulation in such case made
and provided.
[Illustration: THE MOUTHS OF THE TWO MET IN A KISS THAT LINGERED.]
Nell took her departure forthwith. Her murmur of thanks to the sheriff
for his kindness was a trifle indistinct. That excellent officer
observed the fact. Also, he was inclined to believe that the unfortunate
young woman appeared somewhat cheered by her visit to the
murderer--though what there could be cheering in such a situation, the
sheriff could not guess.