“What shall we do with the dog? You borrowed him—you’re responsible—it’s your idea,” following in a puzzled flurry as far as the threshold. “Shall I lock him in alone? I said all along it was silly.”
Those insolent shoulders sailed silently around the transverse and out of sight.
After a petrified moment, Berta drew a deep breath, and threw back her head while the crimson of quick resentment flamed from neck to hair. That was a nice way to be treated, when she had simply done her best not to arouse suspicion, exactly as Bea had warned her. She took two steps hastily away from the spot; then turned slowly and glanced in at the soft heap of white showing dimly on the darker blur of the pillow. She certainly did not propose to spend the entire night in playing nurse to anybody, especially after Bea had insulted her so unpardonably. It had been Bea’s idea all along too, and Berta had worked herself nearly to death to make it a success. The miles and miles she had tramped through the mud—and all to no result! Now everything was spoiled, and everybody had quarreled with everybody else. Whereupon Berta marched away to bed, leaving the swinging door unhooked and the outer door ajar. Bea was indisputably right in criticising her fellow conspirator as heedless.
At midnight Gertrude sprang from her pillow, both arms flung out into the darkness, every nerve quivering as she listened for a second scream. She had chosen the inside bedroom that had a window opening on the corridor. Now in the breathless silence, she heard a swift creak ending in the bang of an up-flung sash. A swish of light garments, a thud shaking the floor outside, and then bare feet flying in frantic haste past her room and into the alleyway.
A crash against the study door, and the knob rattled wildly. “Let me in, quick, quick! Help, Gertrude, help!”
There was a flash of white across the floor, the lock grated, and Sara was in Gertrude’s arms. Portières rustled apart, and two more apparitions loomed pallidly in the dark.
“Hulloa!” gasped Berta’s voice, while a woodeny click from Bea’s direction told of Indian clubs snatched bravely in readiness for war.
“Light the gas, girls,” ordered Gertrude quietly; “there, dear, don’t be frightened now. See, we are all here. We will take care of you. What was it startled you?”
“I don’t know. It was dark. Something moved. I heard something. I was afraid.”
Gertrude felt her tremble, and held her closer. Over the bowed head she spoke with her lips to the other two. “That steamboat shock.”