The old negress presently waddled1 in panting. She was both terrified and delighted by the gale2 of excitement that had suddenly blown upon the settled peace of Broome's Point. In order to divert her mistress' wrath3, she made haste to give Pen the latest news from out-of-doors. It appeared that the detectives and the reporters had jointly4 hired the empty tenant5 cottage outside the gate, and were busy establishing themselves there. They had sent over to the island for supplies, and for all the cots and bedding available. They had hired a white woman from up the Neck to cook for them.
"Huh!" said Aunt Maria scornfully. "All Mis' Hat Dawkins evah cook is fat back and cawn pone7!"
Pen breathed more freely.
Pen and her father supped alone together. The events of half a lifetime seemed to have occurred since the last time they had sat down without guests, That was breakfast the day before. By now every vestige8 of Pendleton's self-important air was gone. The situation had become too big for him. He was too much overcome even to blame Pen for anything that had happened. As always when things became difficult he depended like a child on Pen's superior strength. He had to blame something so he railed ceaselessly against the evil chance that had brought Counsell to their door.
Pen, busy with her own thoughts let him run on. Her brain was clicking like a well-oiled piece of machinery9. Like a brave fighter she had to count up all the chances against her. How was she going to get out of the house that night, and how reach Don when their enemies were camped squarely beside her path? How could she guide him to a safer hiding-place, and yet leave the way open to carry him what he needed from time to time? How could she get him away from that dangerous neighborhood altogether? But perhaps after all Broome's Point was the safest place in the world for him. But if he stayed near what prodigies10 of courage, of astuteness11, of resourcefulness would be demanded from her! Not for an instant would she be able to relax. Nerved as she was it was a prospect12 to make her tremble.
Pen enjoyed one great advantage in knowing every foot of ground around the place. The daily hunt for her vagrant13 turkeys, as well as the search every Spring for their nests, had taught her that. She knew she could find her way on the darkest night, but she was a good deal troubled by the natives wandering around the place. A party of them had built a fire over in the northeast corner of the grounds as if they intended to bivouac there. The darker the night the better for her. She watched the sky anxiously. It was quite heavily overcast14, but with the moon at the full there would be a good deal of diffused15 light just the same.
Another danger was that her dog Dougall might betray her. She got around that by instructing Thedo' to shut him up in the barn. She had a convenient reason for doing so in that Doug had not been at all hospitable16 to the strangers during the day. "He might hurt somebody," Pen said.
The hours after supper were very hard for Pen to put in. Her plans were complete now, but she needed darkness and quiet to put them into motion. Somebody had brought their mail over from the Island, and Pendleton was absorbed in the latest accounts of the Counsell case. There was nothing about Broome's Point as yet save the bare announcement that Counsell had turned up there in a canoe. Pen was obliged to read the paper too, though it nauseated17 her. This day's story contained nothing of especial significance. There was an interview with Ernest Riever the millionaire who had put up the reward for Counsell's capture. Pen determined18 to ask Don about him.
Towards dark one of the detectives without so much as by your leave, came and took up his station in a chair on the front porch. Pen hearing him slapping at the mosquitoes out there, smiled dryly to herself. She went out into the dark kitchen and found as she expected, that there was another man on the kitchen porch. This relieved her mind. Much better to know where the watchers were than to have them concealed19 about the grounds. Pen had her own way of getting out of the house.
She could not get her father started to bed until she first made believe to go herself. She lay down on the outside of her bed fully6 clothed. When, after an age-long wait, she heard the sound of his snores from across the hall, she rose again and flitted noiselessly downstairs. For the past hour she had heard no sound from outside. She was accustomed to moving around the house in the dark, and she already had everything she wanted to carry with her placed handy to her hand. Wrapping each article separately in newspaper she put them all in a jute bag. Then satisfying herself that the watchers were still on the front and the back porch, she made her way down cellar. There was a possibility that there might be other men stationed out in the grounds, but she had to chance that.
On the north side of the house under the kitchen the cellar communicated with the outside by half a dozen steps and inclined doors in the old style. The milk was brought in this way and the doors were always open. A clump21 of bushes outside accounted for the fact that the opening had not yet been discovered. This was the blind side of the house.
For a moment Pen lingered behind the bushes listening, then came out. All along the northern side of the grounds ran a wind-break of arbor-vit?. There was a gap in it, torn by the winter gales22. Pen made for that. She neither ran nor crouched23. While she wanted to escape observation, if she were seen, she wished to know of it. The fatal thing would be to unwittingly lead someone to Don's hiding-place.
She passed through the gap and hid herself on the other side to make sure she was not followed. Nobody came through.
She then had to make a long detour24 around the house grounds, across the old paddock and the stable yard in the rear, across the road which led up the Neck and thence via a small triangular25 field into the woods. Within shadow of the woods she waited again to make sure she was not followed across the field. Nothing stirred behind her. She could see pretty well.
There was no path through this part of the woods, and it was a matter of infinite difficulty to make her way through the underbrush and the thorny26 creepers without betraying herself. She forced patience on herself and proceeded foot by foot. The distance was not far and she laid a true course. She came out on her own path in the woods. Her heart began to beat in her throat. A hundred paces further lay the little temple.
He heard her coming and appeared ducking under his mosquito curtain. His arms went out to her involuntarily. Pen fearful of some outburst made a warning sound:
"Shh!"
That unthinking gesture of his melted her completely. How natural to have flung herself into his arms. All her carefully built-up strength seemed to run away like water. She fought against it desperately27. Not for an instant could she afford to relax. She must think and be strong for both of them. She turned aside from his begging arms.
"I was delayed," she whispered faintly. "Much has happened."
"What does it matter?" he said warmly. "You're here! This is the longest day I've ever lived through. You told me you wouldn't be here till night, but I couldn't help expecting you. Every time a leaf stirred I thought it was you!" He sought to draw her to him.
"You mustn't!" whispered Pen sharply. "We're surrounded by danger. We must plan. This place is no longer safe. You must listen to me. Listen carefully."
His arms dropped to his sides. Pen hurriedly began to tell her story.
He interrupted her. "Come inside. The mosquitoes are too bad."
She hung back a little. Could she withstand him in the close intimacy28 of his little tent? She must! Steeling her breast she followed him in.
They sat side by side on the ground, nursing their knees and looking out through the mosquito curtain at the little temple outlined against the pale sky. Their shoulders pressed warmly together. That contact deprived Pen of the power of thinking, and she moved away a little. That hurt him; she knew it by the hang of his head. But she went doggedly29 ahead with her story.
When she came to the end Don said bitterly: "Well I've had plenty of time to-day to think things over. There's only one course open to me. I've got to give myself up."
Pen had expected this. "Wait!" she said urgently. "We must talk things over. You must read the papers I brought you before you make up your mind. You don't know yet what you're up against. I don't understand what makes the newspapers so bitter. Everybody who reads the stories is roused to a sort of craze to hunt you down. What sort of a trial would you get? Why they were even ready to arrest me because I took your part!"
Don was wildly indignant. "You have to go through such things while I sit here in safety!" he cried.
"That was nothing," said Pen. "He didn't mean it really."
"I can't stand it!" cried Don. "You don't know what I'm going through. Sitting here idle thinking about these things. I'd go out of my mind!"
"I do know what you're going through," murmured Pen.
"Suppose I did get away," he went on. "Would my life be worth saving with this accusation30 hanging over me? What sort of a life would I lead?"
"But the truth must come to light!" insisted Pen. "We will bring it to light."
"How can I fight for myself tied hand and foot like this?"
"You could use me," she murmured.
"That's just it!" he said bitterly. "I couldn't!"
"You haven't much of an opinion of women, have you?"
"You don't understand me. I don't doubt but you're a whole lot cleverer than I. But I have my pride. What would you think of a man who..." He ended with a shrug31.
"We just argue round in a circle," said Pen dejectedly.
"So it seems."
"It's a waste of time," she said more firmly. "Let us talk things over first and find out where we're at. Your first thought was that it was a case of suicide."
"I've changed my mind," he said. "Dongan hadn't the nerve. He was the sort of man to cling to life. Besides the loss of seventy-five thousand wasn't a knock-out blow to him. He could have raised the money."
"Then it was murder," said Pen. "That agrees with the doctor's evidence. Who do you think killed him?"
"I swear I don't know," said Don helplessly. "I've been beating my brains all day without being able to hit out an idea. His life was as open as daylight."
"You knew him well?"
"About as well as one man can know another. We came of the same lot you see; old New York families that had been acquainted for three or four generations. Lord! we were too close for my comfort sometimes. He was one of these men with no reticence32. His confidences were embarrassing. He was alone in the world, and he had a horror of his own company, see? Very often I was hard put to it to get away about my own concerns."
"But you were much attached to him?"
"Frankly33, no!" said Don. "He was the sort of man you just take as a matter of course. Perfectly34 well-meaning, but a bit of a bore. No salt in him. I would never have gone in with him if I'd realized."
"The newspaper said he was your benefactor35."
"Not exactly," said Don dryly. "When I came out of college I was at a loose end. I'm the last of my lot, you know. Not a near relation in the world. It's true Dongan offered me a partnership36, but it was not altogether philanthropy. I had twenty-five thousand to put in. He had his seat on 'change and he needed the capital."
"You said he swindled you."
"It was his first crooked37 deal I'm sure. Even now I can't understand it. He must have been possessed38!"
"How did it come out?"
"Friday night we had dinner together. Lord! it seems like a year ago instead of five days ... And now the earth is over him!" Don shuddered39.
"You mustn't think of that," said Pen quickly.
"You're right! ... He had something on his mind. Said he wanted to talk to me. So I went up to his rooms afterward40. There he blurted41 out that he was long on union Central. The stock had broken thirteen points that day. He was seventy-five thousand in the hole. Hadn't a sou, he said. Evidently he'd been bucking42 the market for some time. Well, that was bad enough, but he actually had the cheek to suggest that I take the debt on my shoulders. I was young, he said, I could live it down, whereas it would ruin him. In the end it came out that he had already entered the transactions in my name in our private ledger43, knowing that I never looked in the book. That made me see red. Such treachery! I blew up. I withdrew from the firm on the spot. Told him he could have my twenty-five thousand until he was on his feet, and he could borrow the rest from his wealthy friends."
"What did you do next?" asked Pen.
"I was so blazing mad I scarcely knew what I was doing. My one idea was to get shut of the whole boiling. Rotten game the Street; I was fed up with it anyhow. This only capped the climax44. I longed for something clean like paddling a canoe in open water. My canoe was up at a boat-house on Spuyten Duyvil creek45. I flung a few things into a valise and went right up there and got it. I paddled right through the rest of the night; down to Perth Amboy and up the Raritan river. By morning I was cooled off. You see I'd no reason to worry about the firm. Dongan had plenty of wealthy friends. If he'd lived he could have raised the money."
"How did your revolver get away from you?"
"Oh! ... I don't know. While I was packing I noticed it wasn't there, but I was too much excited to think about it."
"Had Mr. Dongan any enemies?"
"No. How should he have? A man like that. Never did a positive act in his life, either good or bad."
"A love-affair maybe?"
Don shook his head with a smile. "Not Dongan's line at all. He had no luck with the sex."
"Who were his friends?"
"He had no really intimate friends. Nobody who cared about him particularly. Plenty of associates of course. There was Ernest Riever."
"I was going to ask you about him."
"You know him?"
"Only as a name."
"Son of Scott Riever the steel magnate. Scott Riever's one of the richest men in the country. Ernest is rich in his own right, too. He just fluffs around. Has a big place up in Westchester county where he raises peaches and so on. It's his hobby."
"What sort of man is he?"
"A queer Dick!" said Don deliberating. "A queer Dick! ... Hard to describe offhand46."
"He has offered five thousand dollars reward for your capture," said Pen.
Don was electrified47. "What!" he cried. "The devil you say! ... Riever has come out against me! ... By God, that's funny!"
"Does that make things clear to you?" Pen asked eagerly.
"Wait a minute! ... Let me think! ... It's damn funny! ... Riever! ... My God!"
"Tell me," pleaded Pen. "Begin at the beginning. Do you know Riever well?"
"Sure! It was I who introduced him to Dongan. He's the same age as me. We were class-mates in college. We passed as pals48. But it was a queer sort of friendship. I never could make him out. I couldn't keep my end up with his gilded49 set. I went in for athletics50. But he used to come around me all the time. Flattered me and so on. Yet he didn't seem to like me either. I'd catch him looking at me in no friendly way. He'd let out sneering51 remarks."
"Is he a little man, ill-favored?" asked Pen.
"Why yes. How did you know?"
Pen smiled to herself. "Nothing. Go on. You were popular in college?"
"So they said," Don said offhand. "College popularity doesn't saw much wood in later life."
"But you were prominent?"
"Oh yes. Captain of the crew in my senior year."
"I see. Go on about Riever."
"Well, after we got out of college there was a sort of mix-up. Nasty mess. Riever had married upon graduation. Her name was Nell Proctor, daughter of the coal trust. I don't believe he cared anything about her, nor she about him. It was just the union of two powerful families that both sides were trying to bring about.
"Meanwhile I'd gone into the brokerage business. Riever would always be asking me up to his place and I went of course. I didn't like him any better than before, but I had to cultivate my graft52. I don't suppose Riever's stock operations meant much in his life, but he was far and away the biggest customer Dongan and Counsell had. We got business merely through being associated with him.
"I didn't mention, did I, that Riever had a rotten streak53 in him, particularly where women were concerned. As time went on I noticed the fair Nell growing ever paler and more tight-lipped and I guessed that an explosion was coming. Then Riever stopped asking me up there any more. I wondered. He still came around the office and gave us his orders. There was a lot of talk around town, and finally a fellow told me they were saying that Nell Riever had done me the honor ... well you know."
Pen's breast grew tight.
"I laughed at the story. Why we'd scarcely ever exchanged a word in private. She wasn't my sort at all. Riever's attitude towards me hadn't changed in the least.
"Soon there was a complete bust-up of the Riever establishment. Nell sued him for divorce. She had cause enough God knows. His affairs were notorious. He set up a countersuit and produced a letter in court that Nell had written to some unnamed man. Ernest had intercepted54 it. Well this letter was published and I knew by internal evidence that it was ... well you know ... it had been written to me. A man hates to tell these things about himself! Poor girl! Just a foolish impulse no doubt, that she regretted as soon as she had given away to it! Anyhow the letter was thrown out and she got her divorce with thumping55 alimony."
Poor Pen was thinking to herself: "I wish I hadn't had to hear about this woman. I shall remember her!"
Don went on: "My name had not been mentioned openly, and Riever still came around the office. He still made out to treat me as an intimate friend, but that was just to put off the gossips. I began to be aware of a change. Once or twice I caught his eyes fixed56 on me with an expression that was simply poisonous!"
A sharp exclamation57 escaped from Pen.
"Made me damned uncomfortable," said Don. "Not that I was afraid of him, poor little runt! But one hates to know that there are ugly feelings like that around. He got in the way of giving Dongan his orders. He and Dongan became quite thick."
"Did this have any effect on Mr. Dongan's attitude towards you?" asked Pen.
"Yes," said Don, "now that you speak of it; Dongan had been acting58 queerly towards me for some time past. Relations were a little strained. But I never gave it much thought."
"Would Mr. Dongan have consulted Mr. Riever about his speculations59?" asked Pen.
"Sure! Any tip that Riever let drop would be received as gospel."
"How about that stock you spoke60 of?"
"union Central?"
"Do you suppose Mr. Riever advised Mr. Dongan to buy it?"
"Scarcely. Scott Riever's on the Board of union Central. He'd have inside information if anybody had."
"But suppose Mr. Riever purposely advised him wrong."
"Why should he?"
"To get at you through him."
"Good God!" said Don.
There was a silence while each was thinking hard.
"Wait a minute," said Don. "There's a flaw in your reasoning. How could Riever have known that Dongan was trying to put it off on me?"
Pen shrugged61. "Who knows what may have passed between the two men? A suggestion may have been dropped."
"I have it!" cried Don. "Riever could easily tell Dongan to put the orders through in my name so that it would not be guessed that the tip came from him. Everybody knew Riever and I were at outs, you see."
"Well there you are," said Pen.
There was another silence.
"You know what I am thinking," said Pen at last.
"My God, yes!" said Don. "Me too! ... But it's incredible!"
"Somebody shot Collis Dongan," said Pen simply. "Somebody who hated you. For look how cleverly the crime has been fastened on you. That is no accidental train of circumstances. Your revolver! And somebody keeps sending stuff to the newspapers that is cunningly designed to poison the public mind against you!"
"But how could Riever get away with it?" asked Don in a maze62. "He's too public a character. Like some sort of potentate63 you know. He never goes out alone. Even if he did shake his body-guard, every newsboy on the street would recognize him."
"I don't suppose he did it himself," said Pen. "But with his money he could easily get it done, couldn't he? One reads of such things."
"But if I was his mark, why didn't he take a shot direct at me?" said Don.
"That wouldn't satisfy a man like that," said Pen. "Instant death is painless."
"But what do you know about Riever?" asked Don.
"My intuition tells me," she said simply. "For years he has been jealous of you; jealous of everything you were that he was not. It was like a corroding64 ulcer65 in his breast. That letter of course brought it to a head.... Don't you see? to drag you down, to disgrace you so completely, to bring you to such an unspeakable death, that is the only thing that would give him satisfaction."
"Good God! I can't grasp such fiendish villainy!" cried Don.
"I can," said Pen quietly. "... I guess my soul is older than yours."
"Suppose we're right," said Don. "What good? There is not a scintilla66 of evidence!"
"He showed his hand once," said Pen. "In offering that reward. Your going away on a trip was the one thing he couldn't have foreseen. It has upset all his calculations."
"The reward aroused my suspicions," said Don. "But it's not evidence."
"We'll get evidence."
"We're up against it all right," said Don harshly. "What is known as the Riever group in New York controls a billion dollars, I guess."
"Then you're satisfied that I was right, aren't you?" asked Pen.
"How do you mean?"
"If you gave yourself up you'd be playing directly into Riever's hands."
Don dropped his head between his hands. "You're right!" he groaned67. "But good God! how am I going to stand it!"
Poor Pen! Her breast yearned68 over him; her arms ached to enfold him. But she could only sit there like a wooden woman, staring at the ground. There was nothing she could have said which would not have been a mockery.
He said at last: "I ought to be in New York."
"It would be impossible to make the trip just now," Pen said quickly. "If you only had somebody there to act for you."
"I have friends, plenty of them," he said gloomily. "But whom could I trust in an affair of this sort? It's not their loyalty69 I doubt, but their good sense ... Anyhow how could I get my side of the case before them?"
"Couldn't I carry messages to your friends?" asked Pen diffidently. "Perhaps I could find someone competent to act for you ... Perhaps I could get acquainted with Riever. If I could see him I'd know. A woman might discover his weak spot ..."
"I wouldn't let you have anything to do with Riever," he said quickly. "He's a swine!"
Pen was charmed by his proprietary70 air.
"Besides all that would take money," Don went on dejectedly. "I have only a few dollars. A check would be fatal."
"Perhaps I could find the money," murmured Pen.
"I couldn't let you do that," he said painfully. "Please don't speak of it."
"But if it is necessary!" she persisted. "This is no time for the silly little conventions of life. We must speak of it again... What time is it?"
He flashed a pocket light on his watch. "Two o'clock."
Pen rose. "We must hurry," she said. "It gets light at four and we've a long way to go."
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To the main woods, up the Neck. The detectives and the reporters are housed within a quarter of a mile of this spot. If they look around at all in the morning they can't help but discover the path that leads here. Strangers wouldn't be kept off by the bad reputation of the place."
"How can we get away without passing them?" Don asked. "Give me some idea of the lie of the land."
"The woods are full of old roads," said Pen. "Since I was a child I have been exploring them. Some were laid out by my grandfather for the gentry71 to drive over. Others have been cut for the purpose of taking out logs. Across the pond there's a road comes down to the shore. We must make our way to that."
Again they went through the business of packing up. In a few minutes they were ready to start. With Don's flashlight Pen searched all about the clearing to make sure that no evidence of his sojourn72 had been left there. Don made a bundle of his tent and tied it on his back. He took his grub-basket in his hand, and stuck his hatchet73 in his belt. Pen stuffed his bundle of clothes into the grass bag with the things she had brought. They started down to the water's edge.
Don's spirits instantly began to rise. "I feel like a human being again," he said. "Instead of a caged rat."
From the spring Pen struck into the underbrush, using Don's flashlight to pick her way slowly and cautiously through the tangle74. A few yards back from the water's edge it was more open.
"We'll leave a wide open track behind us here," she said, "but I don't suppose those New York detectives are very good woodsmen."
"Why couldn't we wade75 around the edge of the pond?" he asked.
"The bottom is soft. We'd sink to the knees."
Finally they struck into the old road where the going was easy. They could walk abreast76.
"When Dad sells wood they haul the logs down here to the water's edge and float them out to the bay at high tide," said Pen.
She warned him to avoid the paler spots in the road. These were patches of sand. "Doesn't matter so much if they find my tracks," she said, "anybody around here would tell them that I am always wandering."
It was a hot still night with distant lightning. Something seemed to press down upon them from above. The woodsy smell compounded of leaf mold and pine needles was extraordinarily77 pungent78. The silence under the trees was absolute. Not a leaf rustled79, not a bird cheeped, not an insect strummed. Only when they paused to rest could they hear little stealthy stirrings in the mold.
"Mink80 or weasel," said Pen.
Though they had now put their enemies far behind them, out of respect for the great silence they still talked in murmurs81. The wild creatures were less sensitive. Once they heard quite close the sharp bark of a fox, and again from farther away a wild laugh came ringing.
"What's that?" asked Don startled.
"Loon," said Pen. "There's another pond in that direction."
Little by little they became one with the night and the wildness; their worldly concerns slipped off; their breasts were light. It was enough merely to smell and to hear; to stretch their muscles.
"Why do people live in houses?" said Don.
"Poor things! They know no better," said Pen.
More than once the road forked but Pen always made her choice unhesitatingly.
"How can you be so sure in the dark?" he asked.
"I just have a general notion," she laughed. "We couldn't go far wrong. The Bay is on one side of us, the fields on the other."
After a long walk they came suddenly to the edge of the woods. A rail fence divided woodland and clearing. There was a barred opening into the field. Pen dropped her bag on the other side and vaulted82 over like a boy. Don more heavily encumbered83 had to climb over. On the other side some dim shapes rose awkwardly in the grass and trotted84 away.
"My sheep," said Pen. "I know where we are. I mended that fence myself to keep them from straying."
At one step they had entered the civilized85 world again. Up the river the steamboat blew for a wharf86, and they could hear from far-off the barking of a dog, and all those vague little sounds that rise from a peopled land at night. The field was populous87 with crickets and the wide space was made lovely by myriad88 fire-flies floating about like vagrant stars. The field was a broad one, and the going rough underfoot. Young pine trees were springing up everywhere.
"Hanged if I know where I am," said Don.
"We're facing north now," said Pen. "That pale glow in the clouds is the reflection of the lights of Washington, seventy miles from here."
"Fancy the Nation's capital ... and this!" said Don.
"That bunchy black shadow away off to the left is the grove89 of tall trees that surrounds our house. We have circled round it you see. The long line on the right is the main woods which fills the whole Neck for miles above. All our fields lie on this side. The woods are gradually taking them back."
"If you put me in those woods will I ever see you again?" he asked apprehensively90.
"Oh, it's not much more than a mile from the house. That's nothing."
They came to another fence with a barred opening, and climbing over found themselves in a road.
"What road is this?" asked Don.
"There's only the one road," Pen said. "It runs back from the house between the fields and on through the woods up the Neck." She hesitated painfully. "What time is it?"
The question brought back everything painful that they had put out of mind for awhile. Their hearts went down together. He threw the light on his watch.
"Half-past three," he said.
"Ah!" said Pen with a catch in her breath, "I dare not go any farther with you. It will be light in half an hour. Do you think you could carry everything the rest of the way?"
"Sure, as far as that goes. But ... but must you go?"
"I must! ... Listen! You are to keep along the road until it enters the woods. It dips into a hollow there and fords a small stream. You are to turn to the left there—to the left, remember, and ascend91 the stream, walking in the water. It has a firm sandy bottom, at least for a certain distance. As soon as you are out of sight of the road, better stop on the bank until it is light, so you won't mire92 yourself or step in a hole."
He put out his hand to her. "When will I see you again?"
"You are not listening! ... You must keep on up the stream until you come to a clearing on the right-hand side. Up at the top of the rise there used to be a negro cabin. But it burned down. Only the chimney is standing93. Don't pitch your tent in the clearing. It would be too conspicuous94. Conceal20 it in the brush across the stream. I can reach you there direct from the fields. If I can't find you I'll whistle like a whip-poor-will. And you answer."
"When will you come?"
"To-morrow night. Unless I am prevented."
"Oh! ... if you are prevented...!"
Pen laughed shakily. "Not much danger! They'll have to be very clever to keep me in!"
He clung to her hand. "Well ... I'm not going to complain," he muttered.
Pen clasped his hand in both of hers. "Oh, I know how hard it is! How hard!" she cried. "Try to be patient. It may not be for long!"
"It can not be for long," he muttered. "A man has his limits!"
"The search may drift away from Broome's Point," she said eagerly. "Anything may happen.... To-morrow night when I come I'll bring you some books."
"Books!" he exclaimed scornfully.
"Well, anyway at night we can wander around where we please."
"If you work all day you've got to have your sleep at night," he said doggedly.
"Sleep!" said Pen. "I've got all the rest of my life to sleep in!"
He was still clinging to her hand. "It's so hard to let you go," he murmured. "Could you ... Oh, I know I haven't any right to ask it ... in my position ..."
Pen hated his humility95. She stamped her foot. "Any right! What's your position got to do with it?"
His head went up with a jerk. "Pen!" he cried.
Pen was plain panic-stricken. "Good-night!" she said, jerking her hand free. "The sky is getting light behind you!"
She all but ran down the road. Once she looked behind her. He was still standing there. If he had called her she would have had to go back, let the dawn break if it would. But he heavily shouldered his pack, and turned in the other direction.
At the breakfast table next morning Pen suddenly interrupted her father's endless, querulous complaints by saying: "Well, how about me?"
He stared. "Hey?" he said blankly.
"Do you suppose I'm enjoying the present situation? Stared at, spied upon, my house overrun with riff-raff! It's intolerable!"
"Of course! ... Of course!" he stammered96. "That's just what's troubling me."
"I want to go away until it blows over," said Pen.
Pendleton looked scared. "But ... but would they allow you to?"
"Pooh!" said Pen. "That threat of arrest was just a bluff97."
"Where would you go?"
"Oh ... anywhere."
"I haven't the money," he said plaintively98.
"I'd pay my own."
That old look of suspicion flickered99 up in his eyes. "Where would you get it?"
"Well ... I could sell my sheep."
"Sell your sheep!" he echoed. "Why ... preposterous100! Why the sheep are the best part of our capital!"
"My capital," corrected Pen.
"Certainly," he said stiffly. "But I'm your father I suppose. I have a right to prevent you doing anything so foolhardy. Just to gratify a momentary101 impulse. I forbid you to think of such a thing! Never speak of it again!"
"Oh, all right," said Pen, dropping the matter so quickly that a more perspicacious102 man might have guessed she had not dropped it at all. As a matter of fact as soon as breakfast was over she took the Sun-paper to her room and looked up the quotations103 for sheep and lambs on the Baltimore market. Prices were low, but there was no help for it. She fell to studying ways and means.
Later she was moving about the house setting things to rights and always planning, planning, when she heard a musical deep-toned ship's whistle from the river—the whistle of a stranger in those waters. She ran to the front windows and beheld104 a big yacht coming in from the bay. She was as slim and sheer as a pickerel with a piratical rake to her masts and funnel105. The morning sun showed up her mahogany upper-works as red as blood, and dazzlingly picked out her polished brasses106. A beauty! An anchor was let go with a mighty107 rattling108 of chain, and the yacht slowly came about in the stream.
Pen knew by intuition that her coming had something to do with the matter that filled all their minds, but pride forbade her running out of the house to find out. With a great effort of will she kept on about her work, possessing her soul in what patience she could.
Bye and bye there was a rat-tat-tat on the seldom-used knocker on the front door. Opening it, Pen beheld a ship's officer in natty109 blue uniform and gold braid. He took off his cap and offered her a note.
It was addressed to herself. It was written on thick creamy paper embossed with a crest110 and the legend: "Yacht Alexandra." It was brief.
"Mr. Ernest Riever presents his compliments to Miss Pendleton Broome, and begs to know if it will be convenient for her to receive him this morning."
Pen's brain whirled. She lowered her eyes and gave herself five seconds to regain111 her balance. Finally the suspicion of a dimple appeared at the corner of her lips. She looked up.
"Please tell Mr. Riever that I shall be happy to see him at any time."
She went slowly upstairs to change her dress.
The sheep were saved!
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收听单词发音
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1
waddled
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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jointly
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| ad.联合地，共同地 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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pone
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| n.玉米饼 | |
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vestige
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| n.痕迹，遗迹，残余 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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prodigies
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| n.奇才，天才（尤指神童）( prodigy的名词复数 ) | |
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astuteness
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| n.敏锐；精明；机敏 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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14
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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15
diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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16
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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nauseated
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| adj.作呕的，厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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19
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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20
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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21
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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22
gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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23
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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25
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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26
thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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27
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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28
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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29
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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30
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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31
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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32
reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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33
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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34
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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35
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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36
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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37
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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38
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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39
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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40
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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41
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
bucking
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| v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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43
ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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44
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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45
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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46
offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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47
electrified
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| v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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48
pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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49
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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50
athletics
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| n.运动，体育，田径运动 | |
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51
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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52
graft
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| n.移植，嫁接，艰苦工作，贪污；v.移植，嫁接 | |
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53
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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54
intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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55
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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56
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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57
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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58
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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59
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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60
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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61
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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62
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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63
potentate
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| n.统治者；君主 | |
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64
corroding
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| 使腐蚀，侵蚀( corrode的现在分词 ) | |
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65
ulcer
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| n.溃疡，腐坏物 | |
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66
scintilla
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| n.极少，微粒 | |
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67
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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68
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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70
proprietary
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| n.所有权，所有的；独占的；业主 | |
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71
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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72
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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73
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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74
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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75
wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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76
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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77
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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78
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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79
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
mink
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| n.貂，貂皮 | |
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81
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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82
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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83
encumbered
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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84
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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85
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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86
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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87
populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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88
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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89
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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90
apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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91
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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92
mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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93
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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94
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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95
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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96
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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98
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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99
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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101
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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102
perspicacious
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| adj.聪颖的，敏锐的 | |
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103
quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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104
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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105
funnel
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| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
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106
brasses
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| n.黄铜( brass的名词复数 )；铜管乐器；钱；黄铜饰品（尤指马挽具上的黄铜圆片） | |
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107
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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108
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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109
natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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110
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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111
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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