She was a child in his hands, but managed nevertheless to rise. As he
applied the pressure more cruelly to her arms she cried aloud with pain
and, struggling desperately, knocked the chair over.
It went down with a crash appallingly loud in that silent house and at
that hour; and taking advantage of his instant of consternation she
jerked free and sprang toward the door. He was upon her in an instant,
however, hard fingers digging into her shoulders. "You little fool!"
"No!" she cried. "No, no, no! Let me go, you--you brute!----"
Abruptly he thought better of his methods and released her, merely
putting himself between her and the doorway.
"Don't be a little fool," he counseled. "You kick up that row and
you'll have us both pinched inside of the next five minutes."
Defiance was on her tongue's tip, but the truth in his words gave her
pause. Palpitating with the shock, every outraged instinct a-quiver,
she subdued herself and fell back, eying him fixedly.
"They're here," he nodded thoughtfully. "You wouldn't have stood for
that if they weren't. And since they are, I can find them without your
assistance. Sit down. I shan't touch you again."
She had scant choice other than to obey. Desperate as she was, her
strength had been severely overtaxed, and she might not presume upon it
too greatly. Fascinated with terror, she let herself down into an easy
chair.
Anisty thought for a moment, then went over to the desk and sat himself
before it.
"Keys," he commented, rapidly inventorying what he saw. "How'd you get
hold of them?"
"They are Mr. Maitland's. He must have forgotten them."
The burglar chuckled grimly. "Coincidences multiply. It is odd. That
harp, O'Hagan, was coming in with a can of beer while I was picking the
lock, and caught me. He wanted to know if I'd missed my train for
Greenfields, and I gave him my word of honor I had. Moreover, I'd
mislaid my keys and had been ringing for him for the past ten minutes.
He swallowed every word of it.... By the way, here's a glove of yours.
You certainly managed to leave enough clues about to insure your being
nabbed even by a New York detective."
He faced about, tossing her the glove, and with it so keen and
penetrating a glance that her heart sank for fear that he had guessed
her secret. But as he continued she regained confidence.
"I could teach you a thing or two," he suggested pleasantly. "You make
about as many mistakes as the average beginner. And, on the other hand,
you've got the majority beaten to a finish for 'cuteness. You're as
quick as they make them."
She straightened up, uneasy, oppressed by a vague surmise as to whither
this tended.
"Thank you," she said breathlessly, "but hadn't you better----"
"Plenty of time, my dear. Maitland has gone to Greenfields and we've
several hours before us.... Look here, little woman, why don't you take
a tumble to yourself, cut out all this nonsense, and look to your own
interests?"
"I don't understand you," she faltered, "but if----"
"I'm talking about this Maitland affair. Cut it out and forget it.
You're too good-looking and valuable to yourself to lose your head just
all on account of a little moonlight flirtation with a good-looking
millionaire. You don't suppose for an instant that there's anything in
it for yours, do you? You're nothing to Maitland--just an incident;
next time he meets you, the baby-stare for yours. You can thank your
lucky stars he happened to have a reputation to sustain as a village
cut-up, a gay, sad dog, always out for a good time and hang the
expense!--otherwise he'd have handed you yours without a moment's
hesitation. I'm not doing this up in tin-foil and tying a violet ribbon
with tassels on it, but I'm handing it straight to you: something you
don't want to forget.... You just sink your hooks in the fact that
you're nothing to Maitland and that he's nothing to you, and never will
be, and you won't lose anything--except illusions."
She remained quiescent for a little, hands twitching in her lap, torn
by conflicting emotions--fear of and aversion for the man, amusement,
chill horror bred of the knowledge that he was voicing the truth about
her, the truth, at least, as he saw it, and--and as Maitland would see
it.
"Illusions?" she echoed faintly, and raised her eyes to his with a
pitiful attempt at a smile. "Oh, but I must have lost them, long ago;
else I shouldn't be...."
"Here and what you are. That's what I'm telling you."
She shuddered imperceptibly; looked down and up again, swiftly, her
expression inscrutable, her voice a-tremble between laughter and tears:
"Well?"
"Eh?" The directness of her query figuratively brought him up all
standing, canvas flapping and wind out of his sails.
"What are you offering me in exchange for my silly dream?" she
inquired, a trace of spirit quickening her tone.
"A fair exchange, I think ... something that I wouldn't offer you if
you hadn't been able to dream." He paused, doubtful, clumsy.
"Go on," she told him faintly.... Since it must come, as well be over
with it.
"See here." He took heart of desperation. "You took to Maitland when
you thought he was me. Why not take to me for myself? I'm as good a
man, better _as_ a man, than he, if I do blow my own horn.... You side
with me, little woman, and--and all that--and I'll treat you square. I
never went back on a pal yet. Why," brightening with enthusiasm as his
gaze appraised her, "with your looks and your cleverness and my
knowledge of the business, we can sweep the country, you and I."
"Oh!" she cried breathlessly.
"We'll start right now," he plunged on, misreading her; "right now,
with last night's haul. You'll chuck this addled sentimental
pangs-of-conscience lay, hand over the jewels, and--and I'll hand 'em
back to you the day we're married, all set and ... as handsome a
wedding present as any woman ever got...."
She twisted in her chair to hide her face from him, fairly cornered at
last, brain a-whirl devising a hundred maneuvers, each more helpless
than the last, to cheat and divert him for the time, until ... until....
The consciousness of his presence near her, of the sheer strength and
might of will-power of the man, bore upon her heavily; she was like a
child in his hands, helpless.... She turned with a hushed gasp to find
that he had risen and come close to her chair; his face was not a foot
from hers, his eyes dangerous; in another moment he would have his
strong arms about her. She shrank away, terrified.
"No, no!" she begged.
"Well, and why not? Well?"--tensely.
"How do I know?... This afternoon I outwitted you, robbed and sold you
for--for what you call a scruple. How can I know that you are not
paying me back in my own coin?"
"Oh, but little woman!" he laughed tenderly, coming nearer. "It is
because you did that, because you could hold those scruples and make a
fool of me for their sake, that I want you. Don't think I'm capable of
playing with you--it takes a woman to do that. Don't you know,"--he
bent nearer and his breath was warm upon her cheek,--"don't you know
that you're too rare and fine and precious for a man to risk losing?...
Come now!"
"Not yet." She started to her feet and away.
"Wait.... There's a cab!"
The street without was echoing with the clattering drum of galloping
hoofs. "At this hour!" she cried, aghast. "Could it be--"
"No fear. Besides--there, it's stopped."
"In front of this house!"
"No, three doors up the street, at least. That's something you must
learn, and I can teach you to judge distance by sound in the darkness--"
"But I tell you," she insisted, retreating before him, "it's a risk....
There, did you hear that?"
"That" was the dulled crash of the front door.
Anisty stepped to the table on the instant and plunged the room in
darkness.
"Steady!" he told her evenly. "Steady. It can't be--but take no
chances. Go to the trunk-closet and get that window open. If it's
Maitland,"--grimly--"well, I'll follow."
"What do you mean? What are you going to do?"
"Leave that to me ... I've never been caught yet."
Cold fear gripped her heart as, in a flash of intuition, she divined
his intention.
"Quick!" he bade her savagely. "Don't you want--"
"I can't see," she invented. "Where's the door? I can't see...."
"Here."
Through the darkness his fingers found hers. "Come," he said.
"Ah!"
Her hand closed over his wrist, and in a thought she had flung herself
before him and caught the other. In the movement her hand brushed
against something that he was holding; and it was cold and smooth and
hard.
"Ah! no, no!" she implored. "Not that, not that!"
With an oath he attempted to throw her off, but, frail strength
magnified by a fury of fear, she joined issue with him, clinging to his
wrists with the tenacity of a wildcat, though she was lifted from her
feet and dashed this way and that, brutally, mercilessly, though her
heart fell sick within her for the hopelessness of it, though....