Tessie had been thrust into the darkened room with such force that she
staggered and would have fallen if her hand had not touched the twisted
spindles of an old bed. She clutched the footboard and clung to it,
trembling and breathless.
"All you have to do is to give up your rights to the Sunshine Islands and
the Tear of God," called Mr. Pracht from the hall. "Just pound on the
door when you've made up your mind, and I'll let you out."
But Tessie said never a word. She just clutched the twisted spindles
harder. When she heard Mr. Pracht turn the key in the lock and go down
the stairs, she screamed. The cry was involuntary and quickly smothered
by her hand, for Tessie remembered that the Gilfoolys were afraid of
nothing. Granny had said so. But Tessie was quiveringly afraid that
Granny was wrong, for Tessie could have put her finger on a Gilfooly who
was afraid--shiveringly afraid--of the darkened room and of white-headed
Frederic Pracht, who was on the other side of the door.
What would he do to her if she refused to give up her islands and the
Tear of God? Of course she would refuse, for in her veins was that warm
quick blood of the Gilfoolys, which had kept her Uncle Pete on the
throne of the Sunshine Islands for almost twenty years. No matter what
Mr. Pracht and the Sons of Sunshine did to her, Tessie vowed she would
not give up her islands nor the Tear of God. They were hers and a
Gilfooly kept what was his.
But it was a fearsome task to be a queen and a Gilfooly, as she stood
there in the darkened room. Her lip quivered, and her breath came in
quick sobbing gasps. What a fool she had been to allow the Sons of
Sunshine to kidnap her! She knew better than to get in cars driven by
strange chauffeurs. But the car she had entered had been the Kingley
car! She never would have taken a strange car. And Mr. Kingley had
nothing to do with the Sons of Sunshine. It was ridiculous to think even
for a moment that he had. She trusted him implicitly. He had been so
kind and helpful, and Mr. Pracht had been anything but kind and helpful.
She was afraid of Mr. Pracht, afraid of his hard little eyes, and the
cruel twist of his mouth and his cold, contemptuous voice. She was
afraid of him, or she would have been afraid of him if she hadn't been a
Gilfooly.
And she hated him! If she only could wake up and find that this was all
a dream, that she was not a queen, that she never had been a queen, and
that she was only a salesgirl in the Evergreen again. She shivered as
she thought longingly of that safe nook behind the aluminum in the
basement of the Evergreen. Joe Cary had told her that queens had their
troubles, but she had laughed at him. She had preferred to listen to Mr.
Bill, who told her how beautiful and sweet queens were, and how much to
be envied. He would find her, of course. Mr. Bill would be sure to find
her. As soon as he heard that she had not returned to the hotel, he
would take his hat and find her. Mr. Bill was so strong and so brave.
She felt stronger and braver herself as she remembered how strong and
brave Mr. Bill was. She released the spindles and walked around to sit
on the side of the bed and look about the room.
It was big and square and dark. Funny there was no window. Here was the
bed, and over there against the wall was an old washstand and a huge
wardrobe, and against the other wall was an old-fashioned bureau. In the
fourth wall was the door by which she had entered, and above it was the
transom, which allowed a little light to filter into the room. Tessie
looked at that transom. Of course she could push the washstand to the
door and climb up and slip through the transom, but Mr. Pracht would
catch her before she had dropped down on the other side. The transom,
encouraging as it looked, was of absolutely no use as a means of escape
unless Mr. Pracht left the house, and Tessie did not think he would do
that. Perhaps in the middle of the night if she thought that Mr. Pracht
would be asleep-- But then there might be one of the Sons of Sunshine on
guard! Tessie did not believe for a second that a savage, even a
cannibal Sunshine Son, would ever really hurt her, but she did think
that he might do something very unpleasant, and she wanted to avoid him
as long as possible.
She had meant to be such a good queen, she thought with a little choking
hiccup. It wasn't fair for the Sons of Sunshine to object to her before
they knew what kind of a queen she would make! She meant to be simple
and honest, to follow Madame Cabot's rule for queens, to be a good queen
and now--. She bit her lip and pressed her hand hard against her eyes to
keep back the tears. It wasn't fair!
It was funny that there was no window in such a big room. How could any
one see to do her hair at that old bureau? There was a gas jet beside
the bureau, but Tessie could not find any matches. It was funny that
there was no window. And how old-fashioned the house was to have gas
instead of electricity.
From the street, in the rear of the house, she could hear the faint
rumble and squeak of a street car as it passed, and it made her realize
how unbelievable the situation was. The air was close and heavy. How
could any one stay in a close, airless room? She would suffocate. Was
that why Mr. Pracht had locked her in the windowless room, so that she
would suffocate, and the Sons of Sunshine could do as they pleased with
her islands? Well, she would show him! She wouldn't suffocate! She just
would not suffocate and let Mr. Pracht sell her islands to the Japanese.
She wouldn't do it! But it was funny there wasn't a window.
She jumped up suddenly and crossed the room to peer behind the shabby
bureau. It stood close against the wall, and she pulled at it
impatiently. There was a squeak. It sounded like the very crack of doom
to Tessie's frightened ears. She held her breath as she waited for Mr.
Pracht to burst in and ask what she thought she was doing. But when
there was no sign from Mr. Pracht, she pulled at the bureau again,
waiting until the passing street car made a noise outside which might
cover the noise on the inside. At last she had the bureau far enough
from the wall to look behind it. Of course there was a window. She
looked at it triumphantly.
"I thought so!" she said, as she dusted her hands and pushed herself
behind the bureau, so that she could look out of the grimy glass into
the dusky twilight.
Below the window was the roof of a small porch and beyond that was a
yard inclosed with a high board fence. If she could open the window,
drop on the porch, then to the ground and climb the fence, she could
escape from Mr. Pracht and the Sons of Sunshine, and then-- She was
almost sorry that she would still be a queen even if she did escape
from Mr. Pracht. She thought again almost regretfully of her old place
at the Evergreen. No one had ever kidnaped her or threatened her when
she was selling aluminum. She had been scolded, but every one said Mr.
Walker's bark was far worse than his bite.
If she could only open this grimy window. The frame stuck tight. She
tried again, tugging at it with all of her might, and when she failed to
move it the tears rushed to her eyes. It was so tantalizing to see a way
of escape and not be able to use it. She pushed and tugged until at last
the frame shot up with an unexpectedness which almost threw her out of
the window. She drew in a deep breath of the fresh evening air, and felt
ready for anything. There really was nothing like fresh air to give a
girl courage.
She looked down on the roof of the little porch. It seemed farther away
than it had when the window was closed. For all she knew Mr. Pracht
might be standing under it to catch her when she slipped down, but there
was an equal chance that he wasn't there, and she would have to take the
chance. She took time to bless Joe Cary and thank him before she put her
feet over the sill. If it hadn't been for Joe she never in the world
would have gone to the Y. W. C. A. gymnasium class and trained her
muscles to do what they were told. She clung to the sill for a
breathless second and then dropped. The silk belt of her frock caught
on a nail, but the weight of her body tore it loose. The porch roof
creaked when she struck it, but the noise was no louder, loud as it
sounded in Tessie's anxious ears, than would have been made by a
marauding cat.
Tessie crouched low and waited. There was not another sound. So Mr.
Pracht was not on the porch, and he had not heard her. She slid quickly
down a post and dashed across the yard like a shadow. Her trained
muscles made easy work of the high board fence, and in a flash she was
on the other side, in a narrow street, and free. She straightened
herself and drew a long breath. It was unbelievable that she had escaped
so easily. But she had escaped. She grinned triumphantly. She had
skinned her elbows and scratched her face, but such minor casualties
were of no account. She felt for the Tear of God. It was safe in the bag
hanging from her waist. Suddenly she stopped grinning triumphantly, and
began to cry. Now that she was free, she could realize how frightened
she had been, even if she was a fearless Gilfooly.
What should she do? Where should she go? Not back to the hotel. The Sons
of Sunshine would look for her there and would kidnap her again. And she
had had enough of kidnaping. A little of that sort of thing was far more
than enough. Where could she go and hide herself from Mr. Pracht until
Mr. Marvin would make it safe for her to be found? She fumbled in her
pocket for a handkerchief to dry her tears. This was no time to cry.
There was a little purse in her pocket as well as a handkerchief, a gay
little affair of red leather, and in it was a key. Tessie usually
carried the little purse in her beaded bag, but her beaded bag had been
so full that morning that she had taken it out and stuffed it into her
pocket.
She looked at it now with a little gasp. She had carried the key in that
little purse just--well, just because! She had never expected to use it
again but now--
The key reminded her of Granny. What would Granny think? She must find
some way to let Granny know that she was safe. Oh, wasn't it awful to
think how helpless and unfortunate a queen could be! Here she was a
fugitive and penniless in the streets of Waloo. And only yesterday she
had been riding the streets of Waloo in her own car, and with her own
chauffeur and her own bodyguard, and with a purse full of money. Could
you believe that twenty-four hours would make such a change? She did not
remember where she had dropped her bag. Perhaps Mr. Pracht had it. When
she became a queen, she had thought that she had said good-by to Trouble
and Care, and here were Trouble and Care at her very elbow. Joe Cary had
said they would be there. He had declared she would find that being a
queen wouldn't be all fun. And she had laughed at him! Mr. Bill had
laughed, too. Mr. Bill had called Joe an old grouch--a croaking old
grouch. Mr. Bill was so wonderful! But Joe Cary was right. It wasn't all
fun to be a queen. There were many disagreeable moments. She shivered as
she recalled some of the disagreeable moments. But at least she had
learned one thing. A queen would have to take care of herself just as
any girl did, even a salesgirl at the Evergreen. A queen couldn't depend
entirely on her bodyguard. She wondered if Ka-kee-ta were in the house
with Mr. Pracht, or if the frizzled head she had seen belonged to a
savage Son of Sunshine.
She was tired--more tired than she had ever been in her life. The big
anniversary sale at the Evergreen had not left her as tired as she was
now. And she was hungry. What wouldn't she give for some of Granny's
liver and onions and a big cup of Granny's hot coffee. And after she had
eaten the liver and onions, she would like to tumble into bed and sleep
forever. She would, too, after she had sent word to Granny that she was
safe. She would telephone, and then she remembered that she had no
money, not even a nickel, to pay the telephone charges. There was
nothing in the gay red purse but the old key. She couldn't telephone!
She couldn't even ride in the street car! She would have to walk. In
the old days when she was just a clerk, she had never been without at
least carfare, but now that she was a queen she was penniless. Could you
believe it? Oh, Joe Cary was right! It wasn't all fun to be a queen!
The tears rushed to her eyes again as she went slowly around the corner.
She didn't care if she was a queen, she said with a sob, she was the
most miserable girl in Waloo. Where would she be safe now?