After Jack Shore had been securely handcuffed, and after a hasty but
bootless search for his partner in crime, Detective Simms hustled him
into the launch, and desiring to get him behind the prison bars
without delay, ordered the engineer to run the boat across the river
at once so as to avoid any attempt at release by possible
confederates.
A hasty examination of both Constance and Virginia convinced Mr.
Thorpe that they were not seriously hurt, and were rendered senseless
only by a shock of great mental excitement.
To remain until after their recovery would only add torture to a
painful situation; he therefore made them as comfortable as the
limited means at hand would allow, and then taking Dorothy with him,
boarded the launch, leaving Sam and Smith to watch over and care for
his wife and sister until the arrival of a physician, whom he intended
to dispatch to their aid as quickly as possible. Dorothy objected to
leaving her mother, but was sternly overruled and awed into submission
by her father.
Ten minutes after her rescue the boat was speeding toward Madison
Street landing with John Thorpe and Dorothy, Jack Shore and Detective
Simms, taciturn and grave.
As the boat drew away, both Sam and Smith silently contemplated the
two insensible women on the floor. For some moments neither spoke a
word, profoundly absorbed in a grave contemplation of the questionable
necessity of the two women undertaking so dangerous a mission.
To Sam it appeared plain they had very recently learned of Dorothy's
place of captivity; but why they had not imparted the information to
some of their male friends, why they had kept her place of concealment
secret, and why, also, they had undertaken her release just prior to
the arrival of her father on the scene, was a mystery. It only
resulted in a suspicion that they had somehow heard of John Thorpe's
premeditated attempt at rescue, and were alarmed lest Dorothy should
fall into his hands.
Smith's mind was not of an analytical nature; in fact, he did not
think their presence was attributable to anything other than a
mother's natural heart-breaking longing to recover her darling as
swiftly as possible, and in the enterprise Virginia had joined her.
And as he thought of the indifference and cruel desertion of John
Thorpe with her child, for whom she had made such a sacrifice, a
solemn, serious look of sadness gathered on his face and deepened into
contempt and anger. And the compassion in his heart welled up and at
length broke from between his lips, in unconscious mutterings. "Sure,
he tuk her darlint from her an' left her lyin' there, too, so he do,
on the hard flure, wid her sinses gone out from her hid complately.
The heartless man!"
"The trouble between them is serious," Sam replied, as he knelt down
beside Virginia and commenced to chafe her hands.
"Sure, don't I know it, so I do!" rejoined Smith, as he followed Sam's
example and set to chafing Constance's hands between his own. "An'
he's broke her heart entirely, so he ave," he went on, "an' her hands
do be numb wid no life in thim at all."
Then he was silent for a time and worked industriously to bring back
into her hands the warmth that had fled.
Suddenly he asked Sam in an eager, anxious whisper, "Do yees belave
she'd do wrong?"
"No!" Sam promptly replied.
"Naither do I. Indade she's as swate an' innocint a lady as wan ave
hivin's angels. Sure, she cudn't do wrong at all, at all."
"Not at all!" responded Sam gravely.
"An' the mister shud ave better sinse than to trate her so unkind,
don't yees think so now?"
"Thorpe is a damned fool, I guess!" Sam answered gloomily.
"Indade, I do belave it, too, so I do!"
Again there was silence. Again it was broken by Smith, who said in a
low, confidential tone: "I'll tell yees, I belave it do be some
attracious divil ave come betwain thim."
"You do!" Sam snapped at him, as though he interpreted Smith's
allusion a direct reference to Virginia.
"Indade I do, so I do!"
"Why do you think so?" Sam asked, a tinge of annoyance at Smith's
persistence still appearing in the manner of asking.
"Isn't she an angel? An' it's only the divil cud sipporate an angel
from her husband. Sure, man, dear, what more do yees want to prove
it?"
A twitching of Virginia's eyelids at that moment caught Sam's
attention. It was nature's first harbinger of approaching
consciousness. He held up his hand for Smith to be silent. The
twitching, however, ceased, and her eyelid remaining closed, again
became motionless.
"A false alarm!" he muttered, and proceeded to chafe her hands more
industriously than before. It was evident that Sam liked the
occupation; for this young lady had unconsciously woven a mesh of
enthralling servitude about his heart, and his idolizing; passionate
fondness had at last been rewarded by unexpectedly finding himself
permitted to caress her at will; to stroke her hair, to contemplate
her fair face, to press her hands between his own.
Sam shrewdly suspected that Virginia was somehow the cause of Thorpe's
estrangement from his wife, but wherefore and why, were parts that she
alone could explain, and her lips were sealed.
That she was also mysteriously connected with the abduction of the
child, he felt was a moral certainty. And her meeting with the Italian
in the lonely park at dead of night could have offered no other
solution. It had acted as a temporary restraining factor upon the
ardor of his love and admiration. But now, as she lay so still and
insensible in his care and protection; now, as he gazed on her fair
features, all his doubts of her chastity and loyalty to those she
loved vanished, and an all conquering fondness suddenly burst in a
flood of radiance upon him, sweeping away all his misgivings before
it, irresistible and impetuous as the flight of an avalanche.
It was very quiet at that moment; so still that the rippling water, as
it lapped along the logs which supported the cabin, sounded very
distinct. Smith imagined he heard a splash, and assuming a listening
attitude, said cautiously, "Phwat may that mane?"
After a pause, Sam alertly remarked, "We have not kept a lookout. What
if the dago's partner should steal in on us?"
Smith's eyes blazed with anger. Laying Constance's hand down, he
sprang to his feet. "Be the power ave justice," he exclaimed between
his teeth, "sure, an' it do be a divil ave a bad job the rogue'll take
on, to boord us now."
"If you see anybody lurking near, call me," said Sam.
"Niver yees moind! Just lave the thavin' blackguard to me! I'll attind
to him!" Smith answered, a savage joy betrayed on his face, and,
seizing hold of the axe, he crept softly to the door. After listening
a moment, he opened it and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Again there was silence. Again Sam tenderly smoothed away Virginia's
abundant silky black hair from her face, and fondly chafed her
temples. And as he thought of her swift recovery, a recovery that
would place a great gulf between him and this one girl who could make
him the happiest being on all God's green earth, he muttered; "Oh, for
one touch of those ruby colored lips--even if it be stolen."
Virginia's face was very close to him, and as he looked at her he
detected a faint warmth in her cheeks; noted the fine mold, the
delicate tracery of blue veins through her clear white skin--the
temptation was very great. His heart thumped wildly and then--unmindful
of the impropriety, or unwilling to resist the natural inclination of
his arm to slip under her full, round, snowy neck--raised her head and
touched her lips with his. The contact germinated a magnetic spark
that raced through her veins and instantly awoke her to life.
She sprang to her feet, the red blood of active youth flushing her
face to crimson. For one moment she looked indignant, fully conscious
of the liberty he had taken. Sam bent his head abashed, and said
apologetically--said in tones and manner that left no mistake as to his
honest love and deep respect for her--"You looked so beautiful
that--really now--I could not help it--forgive me!"
Her mobile face, that had set in a shock of alarm, indignation and
scorn, softened and, as the events of the night flooded her memory,
changed to a smile. For one moment it loitered in her eyes and on her
lips, and then again changed to a grave, serious look that developed
tears in her beautiful blue eyes. She held out her hand to him. Were
his eyes deceiving him? Could he believe it? Yes, and he stood dazed
with overpowering joy that she was not offended at the liberty.
He took her hand and gently carried it to his lips. Then she turned to
the aid of Constance, knelt beside her, felt her hands, her face, her
neck, and asked him. "Who was so mean to strike her down?"
For answer he sadly shook his head, and replied gravely, "She sank to
the floor after John Thorpe refused her."
Then bitter tears trickled down Virginia's face as she continued to
chafe her hands; but finding her efforts to restore warmth were
unavailing, the same gripping at her heartstrings again possessed her.
She raised her eyes to him, a frantic pleading in her voice, "Help me,
Sam; oh, help me bring back the life that has nearly fled!"
"Help you!" he repeated proudly, as he stood in front of the girl who
had for the first time asked of him a favor in her distress, the favor
of a "good samaritan."
And then, looking straight at her, he said, very seriously, as he
knelt and took Constance's other hand, "The strength that God has
given me is at your service, now and forever!"
She understood, and he noted with pleasure that no swift questioning
glance of anger, no look of weariness and turning away, as once
before, followed his magnanimity.
At that moment Smith, who stood on the platform just outside the cabin
door, was heard to say in a loud voice:
"Move on there! The channel be over beyant, in the middle ave the
water! Kape yees head more sout be aste!" Then he was heard muttering
indistinctly, with only such disjointed words as "blackguard,"
"whillip" and "divilish rat," clearly audible.
It was soon, however, followed by angry words delivered in an
aggressively belligerent voice: "Be hivins, don't yees come near us!
Kape off, sure, d'yees moind, yees blackguards, or I'll put a hole
through yees bottom that'll sink yees down to the place where yees do
belong, so ye do!"
Suddenly changing his voice to an anxious tone, said, "Phwat d'yees
want? Phwat's that? Doctor, sure! Praise be to God! Oh, we've been
waitin' for yees, doctor dear, till our hearts do be broken entirely.
Be me soul, it's the thruth; not wan bit more nor less. Come, dear,
yees do be wanted quick!"
A lurch at the cabin told that the launch had arrived. The door was
hastily opened and Smith pushed the doctor in.
"There they be, sure, lyin' en the flure wid no sinse in thim at all,
at all. Do yees be quick, doctor, and hivin'll reward yees!"
Skillful application of proven restoratives, however, failed to
produce sensibility, and the doctor considered the case so grave that
he ordered Constance be removed to her home as quickly as possible.
She was, therefore, tenderly taken on board the launch and conveyed
home.
The sun's rays had burst through and dispersed the early morning mists
before Constance recovered from the shock, but, alas! with the shadow
of a wreck enveloping her.