A THRILLING MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE.
For a moment Mollie was simply paralyzed with fear; she could neither
move hand nor foot, which perhaps was the very best thing that could
have happened under the circumstances. But her mind worked with the
rapidity of lightning and to some purpose.
She could distinctly hear the movements of some one about the room,
stealthy and cautious as the invader tried to be, and once she plainly
saw the outline of a man as the figure passed between her vision and a
window.
She was sure that a burglar had entered the house--some one who,
doubtless, had learned of Monsieur Lamonti's absence and had taken
advantage of it to come and help himself to what valuables he could
find.
Then a shock of dismay and fear set all her nerves tingling as she
remembered the safe; but this was almost immediately succeeded by a
great calm, a grim determination taking possession of her, and plans to
carry it out quickly forming in her active brain.
Very cautiously she reached out her right hand and secured the revolver
that lay on the stand beside her. Her touch was so light that, as she
timed her act just as the burglar stooped to examine the safe, not a
sound was distinguishable.
Slipping it under the bed-clothing she softly removed it from the box.
The next moment it was cocked and she drew a deep, silent breath of
relief as she realized that she could now control the situation about as
she pleased.
Her next act was to reach out again and feel for a cluster of three
electric buttons, which had been placed in the wall close beside the
bed.
One of these controlled a wire communicating with the nearest
police-station, and had been put there for just such an emergency as the
present. Another was connected with the electric apparatus for lighting
the house, and the third governed the lock of the front door.
Similar buttons were in every room of the main portion of the house, and
Monsieur Lamonti had explained their operation to Mollie several weeks
previous during one of her visits, and they were grouped in the form of
a triangle; two were side by side, and the third between and above them.
It was the upper button which Mollie had touched. Then she lay quietly
listening for several minutes, while the other occupant, having produced
a tiny dark-lantern, continued his investigations at the safe.
All at once, in the distance, she caught the sound of hoofs and wheels,
and knew that help was coming to her.
She now touched the button controlling the front door. A moment later
she lightly pressed the third button, and instantly the apartment was
flooded with light, as was also the hall outside. With a startled oath
the burglar sprang to his feet, and, turning, found himself confronted
by the loveliest vision he had ever seen in his life, as he afterward
told a pal in prison, and a "dandy barker" that was cocked and aimed
straight at his heart.
Mollie had sprung to a sitting posture after touching the third button
and was prepared for duty. Her face was pale as marble, but there was a
determined light in the blue eyes which warned the invader that she was
braced for instant action while his experienced eye immediately grasped
the fact that she knew how to manipulate the weapon she held, and that
her hand was as steady as if she were holding simply a glass of water.
But the man was a desperate and powerful fellow, and he did not mean to
be beaten at his game "by any slip of a girl like that," and so
determined to make a bluff to attain his object and watch his chance to
disarm her.
The house was perfectly still, and he was confident that no one else in
it had been aroused, and he fondly imagined he could easily intimidate
his fair captor, for he had not the slightest suspicion that she had any
way of summoning assistance from outside.
"You'd better put down that barker, miss, if you don't want to get into
trouble," he commanded in a gruff, though subdued voice, for he had no
desire to arouse any one else. "I don't ever like to hurt a lady, and
I'd be 'specially loath to do harm to such a pretty girl as you are."
Mollie's eyes flashed indignant fire at his familiar language and
obnoxious compliment.
"Silence!" she cried, in a clear, incisive tone, and her faultless
elocution served her to some purpose now, for it made her every word
tell effectively. "No!--don't you dare to attempt to get out your
revolver if you have one," she continued, as she saw his right hand
creeping toward one of his pockets. "That is right," as he instantly
dropped it again to his side. "Obey me and you will not be hurt. Show
the slightest disposition to disobey me and I will not hesitate to let
you have the contents of one of these chambers, and I shall not miss
you, either. Now sit down in that rocking-chair near you and put your
hands upon the arms."
But the man did hesitate to obey this command and glanced nervously
toward the door, which he had left open when he entered the room, as if
contemplating a bold dash for freedom. Then he suddenly changed his
mind, as the small hand which held that costly revolver was slightly
raised as if to take a truer aim, and he obediently dropped into the
chair which Mollie had indicated, then added in a tone of mingled wrath
and admiration:
"Well, for a girl of your years, you're the coolest specimen I've ever
seen."
"Yes, I know something about firearms. I had considerable practise
shooting at a target in a gallery in Paris a couple of years ago,"
remarked the intrepid girl with deliberate distinctness.
Her captive cringed visibly at her remark, and, observing it, she
realized that he was at heart a coward in spite of his profession and
his attempt to bully her, and her courage rose in proportion. Just then
she heard a vehicle outside slacken speed and stop before the house. The
burglar also caught the sound and an anxious look shot into his eyes.
"What's that?" he demanded roughly; "the boss coming home?"
"No; Monsieur Lamonti will not return until to-morrow, or until this
afternoon, I should have said," Mollie composedly remarked. Then she
added with a gleam of triumph in her blue eyes:
"I am expecting some friends whom I have summoned to aid me in this
emergency; doubtless they have arrived."
"The cops!" cried the burglar in a startled tone.
"Yes."
"How on earth did you manage that?" he questioned breathlessly.
"Ah!"--as his practised eye swiftly swept the walls and finally rested
on the group of electric buttons--"the house is wired for it."
"You are right, and it is an exceedingly convenient arrangement," dryly
responded the girl.
"Thunder and lightning! I swear I won't sit here to be caught like a rat
in a trap," snarled her companion, as he started wildly to his feet and
glanced around him for some way of escape.
"Sit down!" and the pistol in Mollie's hand was again raised menacingly,
while footfalls were now plainly heard ascending the steps leading to
the entrance to the house.
The man dropped with a quick, indrawn breath, as his eye fell upon the
white, slim finger that rested on the trigger of the revolver. Then a
sudden thought struck him and he breathed more freely.
"But they can't get in," he observed with a chuckle of exultation, for
he told himself that if she was obliged to get up to admit the policemen
he would have an opportunity to make a bolt for the nearest window and
have a fair chance to escape by means of a balcony which could be
plainly discerned outside.
"You are mistaken," his fair captor replied, "for when I touched the
button that governs the communication with the station-house I also
pressed another that unlocks the front door. Allow me to say for the
information of any of your friends who may be followers of your
profession, in case you should have an opportunity to communicate with
them, that almost every room in the house is wired in the same way."
"Hell and furies!" groaned the unfortunate victim, and actually writhing
in his chair, for at that moment steps and voices were heard in the hall
below, and he knew that he was inextricably "bagged." Involuntarily he
clapped his hand to his pistol-pocket.
"Sit still!" commanded the brave girl, and she leaned forward, her eyes
blazing like two points of flame. "Another movement and I fire."
He knew she would, for there was a relentless purpose in her watchful
gaze, and he settled back limp and white to await the inevitable.
With her glance never for an instant wavering from the form in the
rocker, Mollie called out in clarion tones:
"Come right up-stairs, Mr. Officer, and you will find what you are
looking for."
A moment later two policemen entered the room and took in the situation
at a glance.
In a trice they had their prize--whom they instantly recognized as a man
they had long been trying to run down--disarmed and safely handcuffed,
he offering no resistance.
Then they turned their attention to the heroic girl upon the bed. But
she felt little like a heroine at that moment.
She had dropped her weapon the instant the officers appeared upon the
scene, too weak and spent to hold it longer, and now lay white and
panting upon her pillows, consciousness almost forsaking her now that
the reaction had come.
Almost simultaneously Nannette rushed into the room, her eyes wide and
staring with fear upon beholding three strange men in the place, while
she tremulously inquired if the house was on fire.
"No, no," one of the policemen replied reassuringly, "everything is all
right now; but you'd better get the young lady a glass of wine or
something. Did he attempt to do you any harm, miss?" he respectfully
inquired.
"No, he did not have any opportunity," she panted, a ghost of a smile
curving her white lips as she significantly touched the revolver that
lay beside her.
"I see," said the man with a nod, "and you are a downright plucky girl!
There, drink something, and then you shall tell us all about the
affair," he concluded as Nannette approached with a glass of port wine
which she had taken from a small cabinet which Monsieur Lamonti had in
his room.
There was a tall Oriental screen before the fire-place, and the men
placed this between the bed and their prisoner, then retired behind it
themselves to give the exhausted girl time to recover herself.
Mollie sipped a little of the wine and soon found her strength
returning, and with it and the friendly presence of Nannette, much of
her habitual self-possession.
"Nannette, pray, get me a shawl or dressing-sack," she whispered to the
girl. The maid whisked into her own room and returned almost immediately
with a pretty wrapper of her own, and into which she deftly assisted
Mollie, who then signified her readiness to talk with the officers,
while she seated herself in a chair outside the screen and motioned
Nannette to another near her.
She briefly related what had occurred from the moment when she had heard
the clock strike two until the appearance of the officers. Her language
was simple and unassuming, but the story produced a marked impression
upon her hearers.
Nannette became greatly excited during the recital, but protested that
she had not heard a sound until Miss Heatherford called out to the
officers to come up-stairs, when she hurriedly threw on her robe and
came to her, fearing she might be ill or the house afire.
The policemen regarded the fair narrator with undisguised admiration,
as she told how she had softly taken possession of the revolver and
cocked it beneath the bed-clothing before turning on the lights.
"It was a mighty plucky thing to do," one of them remarked.
"I sincerely hope that I shall not have to testify against this man at a
public trial," said Mollie anxiously.
The officers saw that she was greatly distressed in view of such a
possibility, and their sympathies were with her.
"Well, miss, I can't say for certain about that. I reckon you'll have to
appear and give evidence; but perhaps a private examination can be
arranged, and if the reporters don't get hold of it you'll be all right.
I'm sure I, for one, would be glad to oblige a lady who has shown more
grit than many a man would have done in such a tight place," one of the
men observed in the most respectful manner.
"And I'm with you," said the other heartily.
"Thank you very much," Mollie replied gratefully and with that rare
smile of hers which made every one delight to serve her.
"Are you timid, Miss Heatherford?" the one who appeared to be the
superior officer inquired. "Would you like one of us to stay in the
house or about the place for the remainder of the night?"
"Oh, no--thank you. I am sure that will not be necessary, for we shall
not be likely to have this experience repeated to-night. We will open
the door connecting with the servants' hall, and I shall feel perfectly
safe."
"Very well; then we may as well be getting our jailbird into his cage.
But, upon second thought," the man added, as he caught sight of
Nannette's shiver of terror and saw that Mollie was still very pale, "I
think when I get him aboard the patrol-wagon I will leave Brown here to
watch about until daylight; maybe it will make you a little easier in
your mind."
Mollie smiled gratefully into his honest face.
"Thank you," she said heartily, and with a sudden sense of relief which
convinced her that she had overestimated her feeling of security;
"perhaps you are right, and I think, on the whole, we may rest better to
know that we are guarded."
"Come," said the officer, turning to the burglar, who had not once
spoken, except to curse when the handcuffs were slipped upon his wrists,
"we must be moving."
Then, with a respectful good-night to the two girls, the officers led
him away, and three minutes later Mollie heard the patrol-wagon drive
away and heaved a long sigh of thankfulness that the horrible experience
was over, and with no loss of valuables to her good friend, Monsieur
Lamonti.
Nannette, who had been watching the departure from a window, informed
her that Officer Brown had been left behind, and was slowly pacing the
sidewalk before the house.
This arrangement was so reassuring to both girls that they immediately
retired with a sense of perfect security, and were soon sleeping as
soundly and restfully as if they had not been disturbed.