"THE BOYS HAVE ARRIVED!"
The embers on the hearth had smouldered so low that they were mere
points of light that served to make the gloom deeper and more
expressive. But suddenly a half-burned stick fell apart, and a little
twist of flame filled almost the entire room with light.
By its illumination the Indian was seen standing at the foot of the
ladder, his rifle grasped in his left hand, his right at his hip, while
his body was crouching in the attitude of intense attention, and as if
he were on the point of making a leap forward.
He happened to be looking toward the fireplace; but, fortunately for the
women, both were gazing straight at him. He glanced to the right and
left, and, catching sight of the figures behind him, wheeled like a
panther, emitting a hiss of exultation at the knowledge that he had
found his victims at last.
But the first dart of his serpent-like eyes showed the white woman, as
immovable as a statue, with her rifle levelled at his chest and her
delicate forefinger on the trigger.
Mrs. Shirril had the drop on him!
"If you move, I will shoot you dead!" she said in a low voice, in which
there was not the first tremor.
Possibly the Comanche did not understand the English tongue, but he
could not mistake her meaning. He knew that on the first motion to raise
his rifle, draw his knife, or take one step toward the couple, he would
be slain where he stood. He, therefore, remained as motionless as she
who held him at her mercy.
The tiny twist of flame on the hearth, that had served our friends so
well, would soon burn itself out; it was already flickering, and, if
left alone, the room would soon be in darkness again, and the situation
would undergo a radical change.
"Dinah," said her mistress, without changing her position, or raising
her voice, "keep the fire burning!"
"Yes'm, I will," she replied, shuffling hurriedly across the floor to
the hearth, where she stooped down. She scorned to turn out of the way
of the prisoner, lest he should fancy he was held in fear. She passed
him almost close enough to touch, and showed her contempt by shaking her
fist at him.
"Oh, you willian! I'd like to wring your neck for comin' into my
dispartment without axin' permission."
A strange flicker shot from the eyes of the warrior as they followed her
for a moment, but he neither moved nor spoke, his gaze reverting again
to his conqueror.
Under the deft manipulation of Dinah's fingers, the flames shot up with
more vigor than before. Then, recalling the risk that this involved,
Mrs. Shirril told her to come to her side, where she would be out of
range of any of their enemies who might be near the windows.
"That will burn for a considerable time," added the lady, referring to
the fire the servant had renewed, "so, if you please, you may go to the
scuttle and see how the captain is getting along."
"Wouldn't you like to do that, missis?" asked Dinah.
"But I must watch this person."
"I'll do dat."
Her mistress, however, read her meaning in her tones and manner. She was
eager to get a chance at the fellow, and, if she did, even for only a
few seconds, it would go hard with him.
"No; I will attend to him; do as I told you."
There was no questioning the decision of the little lady, and Dinah,
with another threatening gesture at the painted face of the savage, went
by him and began climbing the ladder.
"Neber mind," she said to herself, though her mistress overheard the
words, "when I come downstairs again, I'll cotch one ob my feet and
tumble onto you, and you'll be squashed worser dan if de house tumbled
ober your head."
The captive seemed to understand what all this meant. He had escaped
thus far, but he might well fear the consequences, after the man aloft
put in an appearance.
Dinah had hardly passed out of sight when the Comanche said in a low
voice:
"Me go--won't hurt."
Although the intonation of the words was wrong, the woman knew from the
glance at the door, which accompanied them, that he meant to ask
permission to depart.
"Yes, you can go," was the astonishing answer, and she nodded her head.
The Indian moved hesitatingly at first, in the direction of the
entrance, keeping his gleaming eyes on the woman, as if doubtful whether
she understood him.
"Go on, be quick," she added reassuringly, though she took care that the
old-fashioned weapon was not lowered or turned aside.
The voices of the servant and her master were plainly heard above, and
the Comanche saw it was no time for tarrying. A couple more steps took
him to the door, and, with little effort, he lifted the huge bolt from
its place, pulled open the structure, and whisked out in the darkness,
without so much as a "good-night" or "thank you."
The instant he vanished, Mrs. Shirril set down her gun, darted forward,
and slipped back the bolt, making the door as secure as before.
It was a strange act on her part thus releasing the red miscreant who
was seeking her life, but, after all, it was characteristic of her sex.
She had little more than time to set things to rights, as may be said,
when she stepped back and away from the windows, and sat down in the
nearest chair. A slight reaction came over her; she felt weak, though
she knew it would not amount to anything: she had been through too many
perils before.
The feet and lower limbs of Captain Shirril soon appeared on the rounds
of the ladder, with Dinah close behind him. In her eagerness to get at
the Indian, she stooped forward, so that her big dusky face showed
almost over his shoulders. She was just getting ready to fall on the
warrior, when she observed that he was gone.
"Whar's dat willian?" she demanded, glancing round the dimly lit room.
"Yes, Edna, I heard you had a guest down here."
"He asked me to let him go, and I thought it was the best way to get rid
of him," replied the wife with a smile, for her strength was returning
to her.
"Humph!" snorted the disgusted Dinah, as one of her feet came down on
the floor with a bang, "I's got my 'pinion of sich foolishness as dat."
"Let me hear how it was, Edna," said the husband, laughing in spite of
himself.
She quickly gave the particulars, and he in turn told what he had passed
through during his sojourn on the roof.
"The fellow deserved something, but, after all, I find no fault with
your action. Much as I am exasperated against these Comanches for their
attack, I couldn't help feeling an admiration for this fellow, who got
the better of me in the neatest style I ever had it done in all my
life."
"Is it not time we heard something from Avon?" asked the wife; "he
certainly has been gone more than an hour----"
"Hark!"
The shouts, whoops, and the reports of guns and pistols suddenly broke
the stillness on the outside.
Most of the voices bore a familiar sound, and there were a dash and vim
about the whole business which left no doubt of its meaning.
In the firelight of the room, husband and wife looked in each other's
glowing faces, and instinctively the two uttered the same expression:
"The boys have arrived!"