Whatever hopes he had cherished were dissipated, his air-castles were demolished and felled to the ground, and chagrined, disappointed, all the malice of his treacherous nature seemed to leap into life.
Stepping to the door and opening it he said with his wicked smile:
“As you will, my bird; if you won’t sing by coaxing or threatening, you will have a dark cover over your cage; you stay here only to starve. Should you, when frantic with hunger and despair, offer to accept my conditions, I will not relent; here you are, and here you stay. Good-by!”
The door closed and was barred, his footsteps grew fainter and died away, and she was alone—this time to certain fate. Though her heart sunk and her brain reeled, yet she did not shrink—she would have died twice over rather than consort with such a fiend.
It was nearly sunset. Creeping to the door, where a wee bright light showed, she put her face close to it and peered out. It was a small chink, and by straining her eyes she could perceive objects at a little distance. In front, at the end of a path cut between a thick growth of willows lay a small craft lying on the bank. Just beyond she could see a small bit of black water. The craft was a “dug-out,” and in the stern was a paddle. Then she guessed where she was. Recollecting the assertion of the captain, that he was in command of a robber band, remembering Dutch Joe’s statements, and by putting several other things together, she made up her mind she was on the island in Shadow Swamp.
Heavens! if she could escape! There lay the craft, within a few yards. By reaching it she could paddle to the main land and hide in the forest!—in the gloomy, grim Dead-Man’s Forest!
She pushed the door gently. It moved. She felt it give to her touch, and heard the heavy log grate along the ground. Downing had been careless in fastening it. She drew back with beating heart, and sat on the stool sick with fear lest some one should come, and entering, discover the log’s slight resistance.
Footsteps approached, but they were not Downing’s. His were light end jaunty; these were heavy and slow. She shivered with apprehension lest the person should discover the change of position in the log.
The person was Fink. The captain had ordered him to stand guard over the cabin until relieved, his post to be at the rear of the building as the wall was weak on that side. So he stalked away toward it, just as the sun was setting.
She need not have been alarmed, for the second officer merely tramped around several times, then sat down at the rear.