IV
In other words, we had departed the scene of festivities none too soon. I could readily understand why the door had been locked: it was not to keep us in the cellars; rather it was to prevent any one from leaving the ball-room by that route. Evidently our absence had not been noticed, nor had any seen our precipitate flight. I sighed gratefully.
For several minutes we stood silent and motionless on the landing. At length I boldly struck a match. The first thing that greeted my blinded gaze was the welcome vision of a little shelf lined with steward's candles. One of these I lighted, and two others I stuffed into the pocket of my Capuchin's gown. Then we tiptoed softly down the stairs, the girl tugging fearfully at my sleeve.
There was an earthy smell. It was damp and cold. Miles and miles away (so it seemed) the pale moonshine filtered through a cobwebbed window, It was ghostly; but so far as I was concerned, I was honestly enjoying myself, strange as this statement may seem. Here was I, setting forth upon an adventure with the handsomest, wittiest girl I had ever laid eyes upon. If I extricated her neatly, she would always be in my debt; and the thought of this was mighty pleasant to contemplate.
"Do you know the way out?"
I confessed that, so far as I knew, we were in one of the fabled labyrinths of mythology.
"Go ahead," she said bravely.
"I ask only to die in your Highness' service,"—soberly.
"But I do not want you to die; I want you to get me out of this cellar; and quickly, too."
"I'll live or die in the attempt!"
"I see nothing funny in our predicament,"—icily.
"A few moments ago you said that our angles of vision were not the same; I begin to believe it. As for me, I think it's simply immense to find myself in the same boat with you."
"I wish you had been an anarchist, or a performer in a dime-museum."
"You might now be alone here. But, pardon me; surely you do not lack the full allotment of the adventurous spirit! It was all amusing enough to come here under false pretenses."
"But I had not reckoned on any one's losing jewels."
"No more had I."
"Proceed. I have the courage to trust to your guidance."
"I would that it might be always!"—with a burst of sentiment that was not wholly feigned.
"Let us be on,"—imperatively. "I shall not only catch my death of cold, but I shall be horribly compromised."
"My dear young lady, on the word of a gentleman, I will do the best I can to get you out of this cellar. If I have jested a little, it was only in the effort to give you courage; for I haven't the slightest idea how we are going to get out of this dismal hole."
We went on. We couldn't see half a dozen feet in front of us. The gloom beyond the dozen feet was Stygian and menacing. And the great grim shadows that crept behind us as we proceeded! Once the girl stumbled and fell against me.
"What's the matter?" I asked, startled.
"I stepped on something that—that moved!"—plaintively.
"Possibly it was a potato; there's a bin of them over there. Where the deuce are we?"
"If you swear, I shall certainly scream!" she warned.
"But I can swear in the most elegant and approved fashion."
"I am not inclined to have you demonstrate your talents."
"Aha! Here is the coal-bin. Perhaps the window may be open. If so, we are saved. Will you hold the candle for a moment?"
Have you ever witnessed a cat footing it across the snow? If you have, picture me imitating her. Cautiously I took one step, then another; and then that mountain of coal turned into a roaring tread-mill. Sssssh! Rrrrr! In a moment I was buried to the knees and nearly suffocated. I became angry. I would reach that window—
"Hush! Hush! The noise, the noise!" whispered the girl, waving the candle frantically.
But I was determined. Again I tried. This time I slipped and fell on my hands. As I strove to get up, the cord of my gown became tangled about my feet. The girl choked; whether with coal-dust or with laughter I could not say, as she still had on her cambric-mask.
"Forgive me," she said. And then I knew it was not the coal-dust.
"I'll forgive you, but I will not promise to forget."
"Merciful heavens! you must not try that again. Think of the noise!"
"Was I making any noise?"—rubbing the perspiration from my forehead. (I had taken off my mask.)
"Noise? The trump of Judgment Day will be feeble compared to it. Surely some one has heard you. Why not lay that board on top of the coal?"
A good idea. I made use of it at once. The window was unlatched, but there was a heavy wire-screen nailed to the sills outside. There was no getting out that way. The gods were evidently busy elsewhere.
"Nothing doing," I murmured, a bit discouraged.
"And even if there was, you really could not expect me to risk my neck and dignity by climbing through a window like that. Let us give up the idea of windows and seek the cellar-doors, those that give to the grounds. I declare I shall leave by no other exit."
"It was very kind of you to let me make an ass of myself like that. Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"
"Perhaps it's the angle of vision again. I can see that we shall never agree. Seriously, I thought that if you got out that way, you might find the other exit for me. I am sorry if my laughter annoyed you."
"Not at all, not at all. But wouldn't it be wise to save a little laughter to make merry with when we get out?"
I stepped out of the bin and relieved her of the candle; and we went on.
"You did look funny," she said.
"Please don't!" I begged.
Soon we came to a bin of cabbages. I peered in philosophically.
"I might find a better head in there than mine," I suggested.
"Now you are trying to be sarcastic," said the girl.
We went on.
"Wait a moment!" she cried. "Here's a bin of nice apples."
Apples! Well, my word, she was a cool one! I picked up one, polished it on my sleeve, and gave it to her.
"I'm hungry," she said apologetically.
"And plucky, too," I supplemented admiringly. "Most women would be in a weeping state by this time."
"Perhaps I am waiting till it is all over."
"You had better take off your mask." In fact I felt positive that the sight of her exquisite face would act like a tonic upon my nerves.
"I am doing very well with it on. I can at least keep my face clean." She raised the curtain and took a liberal bite of the apple—so nonchalantly that I was forced to smile.
"Here's a box," said I; "let's sit down while we eat. We are safe enough. If any one had heard the racket in the coal-bin, the cellar would have been full of police by this time."
And there we sat, calmly munching the apples, for all the world as if the iron hand of the law wasn't within a thousand miles of us. It was all very amusing.
[Illustration: And there we sat, calmly munching the apples.]
"Are—are you the man they are hunting for?" she asked abruptly.
"I never stole anything more terrible than green apples—and ripe ones"—with a nod toward the apple-bin.
"Pardon me! I feel very guilty in asking you such a question. You haven't told me your name."
"Haven't I? My name is Richard Comstalk. My friends call me Dickey."
"Dickey," she murmured. "It's a nice name."
"Won't you have another apple?" I asked impulsively.
"My appetite is appeased, thank you."
An idea came to me. "Hamilton said there were three tens of hearts. That meant that only one was out of order. Where did you get your card?"
"That I shall tell you—later."
"But are you really an impostor?"
"I should not be in this cellar else."
"You are very mystifying."
"For the present I prefer to remain so."
We tossed aside the apple-cores, rose, and went on. It was the longest cellar I ever saw. There seemed absolutely no end to it. The wine-cellar was walled apart from the main cellar, and had the semblance of a huge cistern with a door opening into it. As we passed it, the vague perfume of the grape drifted out to us.
"Let's have a bottle," I began.
"Mr. Comstalk!"
"By absent-treatment!" I hastened to add.
"You will make a capital comrade—if we ever get out of this cellar."
"Trust me for that!" I replied gaily. "Be careful; there's a pile of empty bottles, yearning to be filled with tomato-catsup. Give me your hand."
But the moment the little digits closed over mine, a thrill seized me, and I quickly bent my head and kissed the hand. It was wrong, but I could not help it. She neither spoke nor withdrew her hand; and my fear that she might really be offended vanished.
"We are nearly out of it," I said exultantly. "I see the cellar-stairs on ahead. If only those doors are open!"
"Heaven is merciful to the fool, and we are a pair," she replied, sighing gratefully. "It seems strange that nobody should be in the cellar on a night like this. Hark! They are playing again up stairs in the ball-room."
"And wondering a whole lot where that third ten of hearts has gone."
"But, listen. How are we to get back to the trolley? We certainly can not walk the distance in these clothes."
"Oh, that carryall will come to our rescue. We are weary and are leaving early, don't you know? That part is simple; the complicated thing is to shake the dust of this cellar."
"What a big furnace!" she exclaimed, as we came into view of the huge heating apparatus. "And there's more coal."
A man stepped out from behind the furnace, and confronted us. A red bandana covered the lower part of his face and his hat was pulled down over his eyes. But I recognized him instantly. It was the fellow with the villainous pipe! Something glittered ominously at the end of his outstretched arm.
"If you make any noise, sir, I'll have to plug you, sir," he said in polite but muffled tones.
The candle slipped from my fingers, and the three of us stood in darkness!