“All right, then,” she said. “How about the work? What about Mrs. Brane?”
“I'll make it right with Mrs. Brane,” I said crisply. “Trust me for that. Now, before you go, step over to the desk there and write what I tell you.”
She obeyed, and I dictated slowly: “Meet me on bridge at eleven o'clock to-night. Wait for me till I come. Maida.”
She looked at me with her lids narrowed suspiciously, and my heart quailed, but the moment of inspection passed. In fact, nobody could have imagined the resemblance that undoubtedly existed between the leader of the enterprise and my wretched, daring self.
“Who's that for?” she asked, “and what's up? Ain't I to know anything? What price all this?”
“What price!” I echoed, “just our lives—that's all. Do as I say, and you'll be a wealthy woman in a fortnight. Don't do it, even a little of it, and—and perhaps you can guess where and what you will be.”
She gave me a hunted look, glanced about the room over her shoulder, and, obedient to my gesture, handed me the paper she had written.
“And no questions asked,” I added sternly. “Don't let me hear another word of it. Now, get my cloak and hat and leave them in the kitchen on the chair near the stove. Get out as soon as you can; don't wait a minute. And leave the kitchen door unlocked. Go all the way to Pine Cone and stay in the room above the drug-store. The woman is always ready to take a boarder. I'll send you word before to-morrow night. Get out, and be quick. Above all, don't be on the bridge to-night.”
She vanished like a shadow, and I sat waiting with a pounding heart. If she fell in with that red-haired double now, my game was up. Everything depended upon her leaving the house without any conflicting orders, without her suspecting my duplicity.
I sat up in bed till it seemed to me that she had had time to get my hat and cloak and to make her own preparations. Then, wincing with pain, I dragged myself up and limped over to my window. A moment later Sara came round the corner of the house and started down the road. There was just enough twilight for me to make her out. She walked slowly and doggedly, carrying a little bag in her hand. I wondered if Mary would come flying to me with the news of this departure, or if Mrs. Brane and Paul Dabney would observe it. No attempt was made to stop her, however, or to call her back. She went on stolidly, and stolidly passed out of my sight. It was in strange circumstances that I saw her big, handsome face again.