“Of course you have; I merely talk lightly to keep my courage up. You can have no idea how afraid I am.”
“Then you are truly an actress, for you appear the picture of enjoyment. But we must go, or Hawley will be there before us, and thus spoil all our plans.”
They passed out through the office together, seeing no one familiar to either, Hope keeping her face partially concealed. The east side of the street was less frequented than the other, having fewer saloons along its way, and they chose its darkness. As they advanced, the long habit of frontier life caused Keith to glance behind before they had progressed a block, and he was thus made aware that they were being followed. Conversing lightly, and without a word to alarm the girl, he yet managed to observe every movement of the dimly outlined figure which advanced with them, timing every motion to theirs. Long before they crossed the street to the Trocadero he was convinced there was no mistake—the fellow, whoever he might be, was trailing them. Keith smiled grimly to himself, resolving that, as soon as he had left the lady, he would teach the spy a lesson not soon to be forgotten.
They barely entered the outer circle of the Trocadero lights, noting a group of men thronging about the doors, and hearing the sound of the band within, and then turned swiftly down the narrow dark alley-way leading toward the stage entrance. Keith, having been there before, advanced confidently, but Hope, her heart beating wildly, clung to his arm, scarcely venturing a word in reply to his whispered assurances. Fortunately they encountered no one, and Keith, feeling cautiously in the dark, easily succeeded in locating the opening to the vestibule. Listening intently he became convinced that no one occupied the little shed. He had intended to remain with the girl until the time came for her to emerge, but the remembrance of that figure dogging them all the way from the hotel now caused a change of plan. He held her hand closely clasped in his.
“Now, Hope, I am going to leave you,” he whispered, “and your own wit will have to carry you through. I know you will play your part all right, and it will be mine to wait for Christie, and give her some explanation of why Hawley failed to meet her as he promised. It will never do for her to suspect, until you time to learn all possible. You are not afraid?”
“Yes, I am,” clinging to him, “but—but I am going through it just the same.”
“The truest kind of courage, my girl. Now slip inside, but hold the door ajar. Hawley will certainly be here within ten minutes, and you must join him at once, or else the other might appear. You can judge as to its being him even in this darkness. Good-bye.”
The longing to clasp her in his arms, to speak the language of his heart, was almost overwhelming, yet the memory of that figure slinking along behind them, and the brief time before Hawley's probable appearance, for he would leave the theatre at the conclusion of Miss Maclaire's act, restrained all demonstration. This was a moment for action, not for words of love; no delay should hazard the success of their undertaking. He heard the slight creak of the door as the girl slipped within the concealment of the vestibule, and then he glided away through the darkness with the stealthy silence of an Indian. There was no one in the alley-way, which was narrow and easily explored, but the glow from the front windows plainly revealed the shadow of a man near the entrance, and Keith slipped up toward him, hugging the side of the building for concealment, prepared to resort to harsh measures. As he reached out, gripping the astonished loiterer by the collar, the two stared at one another in surprise, and the gripping hand as instantly released its hold.
“You, Fairbain! What the devil does this mean? What are you spying on us for?”
Clearly taken aback, yet not greatly disturbed, his eyes showing pugnacious and his jaw set, the Doctor rubbed his throat where Keith's knuckles had left a red welt.