BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
It was late afternoon of the same day. The two girls had made their way
across the greater part of the island without finding a human
habitation or seeing another human being. What had become of the men
that Phil had seen in the woods?
How far the girls had traveled they did not know. The way may have
seemed long, because there were no paths and they were entirely
unfamiliar with the country. But Madge and Phil had made up their minds
that there was nothing else for them to do. They must spend the night
in the woods. It was out of the question for them to attempt to recross
the island before daylight. Perhaps on their way home the next day they
might have better luck in discovering the aid they sought.
Though neither of them would have cared to confess it to the other,
they were tired. They had been walking steadily since early morning,
and they had carried what were, to them, heavy packs.
Phil had a light woven-grass hammock in her bundle that had once been
swung across the deck of the "Merry Maid." Madge carried a light,
rubber-proof blanket, which was their sole protection against rain. Of
course, the girls divided the burden of the food supply for their two
days' march.
At last, out of sheer weariness, they dropped their packs under a tree
and sat down to rest. They had hoped to have the satisfaction of
reaching the opposite side of the island before nightfall. They longed
to know if land could be seen from that side, or if passing ships could
be hailed from the beach.
Madge's head was resting in Phil's lap when she heard a peculiar
buzzing in her ears, which she thought must come from weariness. She
sat up with a jerk.
"Don't stir," begged Phil. "You and I are too tired to move on now. I
am sure I hear the noise of the ocean. We can't be very far from a
beach. Surely, surely, we will find something, or somebody, on this
shore."
Madge lay down again and for a few minutes neither girl spoke.
Phyllis was thinking of home. She was also wondering what young
Lieutenant Lawton must have thought of her disappearance with his box.
The mysterious box was in the bottom of her trunk in their lodge in the
woods. What a time she had had, dragging the trunk ashore, and then,
piece by piece, carrying its contents to the lodge! Phil laughed. If
Jimmy Lawton wanted his box kept safe, he had certainly given it to the
right person. But if he happened to need the contents on land, at the
present time, he would have to cry for it.
Phil gave Madge a little shake. "Come on," she commanded. "I have an
idea that we had better go to the beach. I can't wait another second. I
somehow feel as though we would find friends there. I can't believe
that we are the only persons on this island."
Phil's hopefulness was inspiring. Madge sprang to her feet and the two
girls hurried ahead, leaving their bundles under the tree.
The booming of the surf soon smote their ears, then the welcome splash
and murmur of the waves. Like two little girls, Madge and Phil joined
hands and ran down to the open shore.
Far and wide was a waste of water and a pebbly beach. It was lonely,
far lonelier than their own shore. The "Merry Maid," riding out on the
waves near the spot where they had first found refuge, had given their
shore almost a homelikeness.
This beach was dreadful! Besides, it was getting so late. Phil's black
eyes suddenly brimmed with tears of disappointment. Madge slipped her
arm in Phil's and the two forlorn girls walked up and down the shore,
looking in every possible direction for some sign of life.
A fish-hawk rose suddenly from the waves and wheeled over their heads.
It uttered a hoarse cry of fright and dropped a good sized fish at the
girls' feet. The fish had been too large for the bird to carry.
Madge picked up the fish, which had just been freshly caught out of the
sea. "Phil," she said, smiling bravely, "if we are deserted by human
beings, we are being fed from Heaven. Let us cook this for our supper.
Come, let us go back to the woods, swing our hammock and prepare to
make a night of it."
"Let's look just a little farther along," Phyllis begged.
The girls went a quarter of a mile farther up the silent shore, then
turned into the woods.
Madge, who was a few rods in advance, gave a sharp cry of surprise.
There, ahead of her, appeared most unexpectedly a small house, not a
great deal larger than their own lodge. But it was very differently
built. The door of this house had great bars across it; the windows
were securely fastened. The walls were fortified with heavy beams of
wood. The house looked deserted. Yet in front of the barred door stood
a bucket of fresh water and an ax lay on the ground, with some chips of
freshly hewn wood near it. Also the girls noticed that the way up to
the door had lately been trodden by heavy feet.
Without asking anybody's permission the girls drank long and deeply of
the fresh water. Then they knocked on the fast-locked door. There was
no answer. They banged again. Madge tried to shake the door. A heavy
chain rattled on the inside.
"The house must be empty, Phil," she suggested. "The men you saw must
have been here and gone away again. Perhaps they will be back soon. We
had better return in the morning to see."
Phil gave a farewell shake to the door.
A voice called out unexpectedly: "Stop shaking that door and come in.
What is the use of your trifling with me? Have you lost the key, so
that you can't get in? It would be good of you to leave me here to
starve."
Madge and Phil felt their knees shaking in sudden terror.
"We are strangers; we haven't the key to your house," answered Phil.
"We wished to ask you for help."
A dreary laugh answered the girls. "You must be joking," the voice
said. "But if you are human, you will help me get out of this hole. I
have been imprisoned for I don't know how long. Oh, it is a long story.
Once I am out, I can explain everything to you. I promise not to harm
you."
"Why do you wish to get out?" demanded Madge, trying to gain time until
she could master her amazement.
The voice inside laughed less hoarsely. "Oh, I want to get out to
breathe, to get away from this beastly hole and to attend to my own
affairs. I could go on giving you reasons all night. But please hurry.
Batter down the door! I don't see how the house has ever happened to be
left unguarded so long. You are young boys, I suppose. Your voices
sound like it. If you'll let me out, I'll do anything in the world for
you," continued the prisoner, "only, make haste!"
"What shall we do?" whispered Phil.
"I don't know," returned Madge. "I am afraid there is a crazy person
shut up in this house. Perhaps the men you saw were his keepers."
"But he talks as though he were sane," argued Phil.
"Crazy people often do," retorted Madge. "I've read _that_!"
"Madge, let's open the door," entreated Phil. "The voice doesn't sound
as if the man were crazy. Think how dreadful if some one is really shut
up here on this deserted island against his will!"
Madge hesitated. "It will be dreadfully foolish of us, Phil, to open
the door. There is no telling what trouble we may bring on ourselves."
"For the love of Heaven, please open the door. I swear to you that
there is no reason in the world why I should be kept imprisoned here.
If you will only help me to get away, I can prove it to you." This time
the voice pleaded desperately.
Phil seized the ax. "We can run for our lives once the door is open. I
believe we have been sent to save this person."
"All right, Phil. I won't turn coward unless you do." Madge picked up a
sharp stick to pry under the door.
Phil had struck her first blow when Madge, whose ears were open to
every sound, cried sharply: "Stop! There is some one coming. Do let's
run!"
Phil dropped her axe as softly as possible. Then she and Madge took to
their heels. They ran through the thicket of trees, back behind a dense
growth of underbrush. They had never run so fleetly or so silently
before. A single glance had revealed the figures of two men approaching
the prison-house from the beach. Not for worlds would the girls have
been discovered hammering at their door. They had crossed the island to
ask for succor. They needed friends. Suppose these men had seen them
trying to break into their house? They might have been taken for common
thieves. Madge and Phil were quick to repent of their foolishness. They
had not come forth on their long pilgrimage to save a man locked up in
a hut; they had come to find aid for Miss Jenny Ann and the other
girls.
It was almost dark when they made their way back to their packs, which
they had left under a tree. They made a fire, fried their fish, and ate
their supper.
Then they swung their hammock in the branches of a great, low-armed
sycamore tree. Neither was afraid, though the night was dark and they
were far from their lodge, which to-night seemed like home. They were
too weary to lie awake. By the time the stars were out they had crawled
into their hammock together and covered themselves with their blanket.
All night long they slept serenely, the good fairies keeping watch over
them.