Ten feet back along the sidewalk was a gateway, the posts being tall and thick. The gate itself was closed but it hung a few inches inside the line of the fence, and into this depression the two stepped softly and stood, flattening themselves back against the gate as closely as possible, scarcely daring to breathe, while the long freight clattered and rambled its way by like a lot of jolly washerwomen running and laughing in a line and spatting their tired noisy feet as they went; then the vehicles impatiently took up their onward course. Gordon saw the driver look down at the window below him and glance back hastily over his shoulder, and the man on the other side of the box, looked down on his side. The glitter of something in his hand shone for an instant in the glare of the signal light over the track. Then the horse lurched forward and the cab began its crazy gait over the track and up the cobbled street. They had started onward without getting down to look in the carriage and see if all were safe with their prisoners, and they had not even looked back to see if they had escaped. They evidently trusted in the means they had used to lock the carriage doors, and had heard no sounds of their escaping. It was incredible, but it was true. Gordon drew a long breath of relief and relaxed from his strained position. The next thing was to get out of that neighborhood as swiftly as possible before those men had time to discover that their birds had flown. They would of course know at once where their departure had taken place and come back swiftly to search for them, with perhaps more men to help; and a second time escape would be impossible.
Gordon snatched up the suit-cases with one hand, and with the other drew Celia’s arm within his.
“Now, we must hurry with all our might,” he said softly. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Her breath was coming in a sob, but her eyes were shining bravely.
“Poor child!” his voice was very tender. “Were you much frightened?”
“A little,” she answered more bravely now.
“I shall have hard work to forgive myself for all this,” he said tenderly. “But we mustn’t talk. We have to get out of this quickly or they may come back after us. Lean on me and walk as fast as you can.”
Celia bent her efforts to take long springing strides, and together they fairly skimmed the pavements, turning first this corner, then that, in the general direction from which Gordon thought they had come, until at last, three blocks away they caught the welcome whirr of a trolley, and breathless, flew onward, just catching a car. They cared not where it went so that they were safe in a bright light with other people. No diamonds on any gentleman’s neckscarf ever shone to Celia’s eyes with so friendly a welcome as the dull brass buttons on that trolley conductor’s coat as he rang up their fares and answered Gordon’s questions about how to get to East Liberty station; and their pleasant homely gleam almost were her undoing, for now that they were safe at last the tears would come to her eyes.
Gordon watched her lovingly, tenderly, glad that she did not know how terrible had been her danger. His heart was still beating wildly with the thought of their marvellous escape, and his own present responsibility. He must run no further risks. They would keep to crowded trolleys, and trust to hiding in the open. The main thing was to get out of the city on the first train they could manage to board.
When they reached East Liberty station a long train was just coming in, all sleepers, and they could hear the echo of a stentorian voice: