"Oh, my love, how long the day has been without you, but I shall see you at last!" she whispered to herself, fondly.
The man went inside the double-doors and looked at the splendid horses neighing in their stalls. No one was in sight. The men were back in the office amusing themselves with a game of cards. He could hear them laughing and bantering each other.
He remained there a moment out of sight of Geraldine, then, with a sigh of relief, hurried back to the sleigh.
"It's very strange, but Mr. Hawthorne has gone," he said, in that thick, muffled voice. "He left word for me to bring you to Cortlandt street ferry."
"That is so far. I think he might have waited for us," the girl said, half to herself, and pettishly.
"Oh, maybe there was a fire down that way," Jem Rhodes returned, plausibly. "Go on, driver."
As they started, Captain Stansbury, who fancied he had heard something stopping outside, came and looked out and Geraldine saw his portly figure framed there a moment in the glare of an electric light.
She looked back, but he did not recognize her as the sleigh whirled past. Alas! why did not some subtle voice in her heart warn her that she was in deadly peril, and make her cry out to him to follow and save her from the snare into which she had fallen?
The call at the engine-house was only a part of the actor's plan for lulling Geraldine's suspicions to rest.
It had succeeded splendidly, and, with an exultant heart, he resumed his place by her side, burning with the desire to take her fair form in his arms and crush it against his breast.