The Scarlet Car
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Richard Harding Davis >> The Scarlet Car
"Sent here?" repeated the girl. Unconsciously her voice also
had sunk to a whisper.
"He has a doctor and a nurse and keepers, and they live here
all the year round. When Fred said there were people
hereabouts, I thought we might strike them for something to
eat, or even to put us up for the night, but, Philip Carey! I
shouldn't fancy----"
"I should think not!" exclaimed the girl.
For, a minute the three stood silent, peering through the iron
bars.
"And the worst of it is," went on the young man irritably, "he
could give us such good things to eat."
"It doesn't look it," said the girl.
"I know," continued the man in the same eager whisper.
"But--who was it was telling me? Some doctor I know who came
down to see him. He said Carey does himself awfully well, has
the house full of bully pictures, and the family plate, and
wonderful collections--things he picked up in the East--gold
ornaments, and jewels, and jade."
"I shouldn't think," said the girl in the same hushed voice,
"they would let him live so far from any neighbors with such
things in the house. Suppose burglars----"
"Burglars! Burglars would never hear of this place. How could
they?--Even his friends think it's just a private madhouse."
The girl shivered and drew back from the gate.
Fred coughed apologetically.
"I'VE heard of it," he volunteered. "There was a piece in
the Sunday Post. It said he eats his dinner in a diamond
crown, and all the walls is gold, and two monkeys wait on
table with gold----"
"Nonsense!" said the man sharply. "He eats like any one else
and dresses like any one else. How far is the well from the
house?"
"It's purty near," said the chauffeur.
"Pretty near the house, or pretty near here?"
"Just outside the kitchen; and it makes a creaky noise."
"You mean you don't want to go?"
Fred's answer was unintelligible.
"You wait here with Miss Forbes," said the young man. "And
I'll get the water."
"Yes, sir!" said Fred, quite distinctly.
"No, sir!" said Miss Forbes, with equal distinctness. "I'm
not going to be left here alone--with all these trees. I'm
going with you."
"There may be a dog," suggested the young man, "or, I was
thinking if they heard me prowling about, they might take a
shot--just for luck. Why don't you go back to the car with
Fred?"
"Down that long road in the dark?" exclaimed the girl. "Do
you think I have no imagination?"
The man in front, the girl close on his heels, and the boy
with the buckets following, crawled through the broken gate,
and moved cautiously up the gravel driveway.
Within fifty feet of the house the courage of the chauffeur
returned.
"You wait here," he whispered, "and if I wake 'em up, you
shout to 'em that it's all right, that it's only me."
"Your idea being," said the young man, "that they will then
fire at me. Clever lad. Run along."
There was a rustling of the dead weeds, and instantly the
chauffeur was swallowed in the encompassing shadows.
Miss Forbes leaned toward the young man.
"Do you see a light in that lower story?" she whispered.
"No," said the man. "Where?"
After a pause the girl answered: "I can't see it now, either.
Maybe I didn't see it. It was very faint--just a glow--it
might have been phosphorescence."
"It might," said the man. He gave a shrug of distaste. "The
whole place is certainly old enough and decayed enough."
For a brief space they stood quite still, and at once,
accentuated by their own silence, the noises of the night grew
in number and distinctness. A slight wind had risen and the
boughs of the pines rocked restlessly, making mournful
complaint; and at their feet the needles dropping in a gentle
desultory shower had the sound of rain in springtime. From
every side they were startled by noises they could not place.
Strange movements and rustlings caused them to peer sharply
into the shadows; footsteps, that seemed to approach, and,
then, having marked them, skulk away; branches of bushes that
suddenly swept together, as though closing behind some one in
stealthy retreat. Although they knew that in the deserted
garden they were alone, they felt that from the shadows they
were being spied upon, that the darkness of the place was
peopled by malign presences.
The young man drew a cigar from his case and put it unlit
between his teeth.
"Cheerful, isn't it?" he growled.
"These dead leaves make it damp as a tomb. If I've seen one
ghost, I've seen a dozen. I believe we're standing in the
Carey family's graveyard."
"I thought you were brave," said the girl.
"I am," returned the young man, "very brave. But if you had
the most wonderful girl on earth to take care of in the
grounds of a madhouse at two in the morning, you'd be scared
too."
He was abruptly surprised by Miss Forbes laying her hand
firmly upon his shoulder, and turning him in the direction of
the house. Her face was so near his that he felt the uneven
fluttering of her breath upon his cheek.
"There is a man," she said, "standing behind that tree."
By the faint light of the stars he saw, in black silhouette, a
shoulder and head projecting from beyond the trunk of a huge
oak, and then quickly withdrawn. The owner of the head and
shoulder was on the side of the tree nearest to themselves,
his back turned to them, and so deeply was his attention
engaged that he was unconscious of their presence.
"He is watching the house," said the girl. "Why is he doing
that?"
"I think it's Fred," whispered the man. "He's afraid to go
for the water. That's as far as he's gone." He was about to
move forward when from the oak tree there came a low whistle.
The girl and the man stood silent and motionless. But they
knew it was useless; that they had been overheard. A voice
spoke cautiously.
"That you?" it asked.
With the idea only of gaining time, the young man responded
promptly and truthfully. "Yes," he whispered.
"Keep to the right of the house," commanded the voice.
The young man seized Miss Forbes by the wrist and moving to
the right drew her quickly with him. He did not stop until
they had turned the corner of the building, and were once more
hidden by the darkness.
"The plot thickens," he said. "I take it that that fellow is
a keeper, or watchman. He spoke as though it were natural
there should be another man in the grounds, so there's
probably two of them, either to keep Carey in, or to keep
trespassers out. Now, I think I'll go back and tell him that
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, and
that all they want is to be allowed to get the water, and go."
"Why should a watchman hide behind a tree?" asked the girl.
"And why----"
She ceased abruptly with a sharp cry of fright. "What's
that?" she whispered.
"What's what?" asked the young man startled. "What did you
hear?"
"Over there," stammered the girl. "Something--that--groaned."
"Pretty soon this will get on my nerves," said the man. He
ripped open his greatcoat and reached under it. "I've been
stoned twice, when there were women in the car," he said,
apologetically, "and so now at night I carry a gun." He
shifted the darkened torch to his left hand, and, moving a few
yards, halted to listen. The girl, reluctant to be left
alone, followed slowly. As he stood immovable there came from
the leaves just beyond him the sound of a feeble struggle, and
a strangled groan. The man bent forward and flashed the
torch. He saw stretched rigid on the ground a huge
wolf-hound. Its legs were twisted horribly, the lips drawn
away from the teeth, the eyes glazed in an agony of pain. The
man snapped off the light. "Keep back!" he whispered to the
girl. He took her by the arm and ran with her toward the
gate.
"Who was it?" she begged.
"It was a dog," he answered. "I think----"
He did not tell her what he thought.
"I've got to find out what the devil has happened to Fred!" he
said. "You go back to the car. Send your brother here on the
run. Tell him there's going to be a rough-house. You're not
afraid to go?"
"No," said the girl.
A shadow blacker than the night rose suddenly before them, and
a voice asked sternly but quietly: "What are you doing here?"
The young man lifted his arm clear of the girl, and shoved her
quickly from him. In his hand she felt the pressure of the
revolver.
"Well," he replied truculently, "and what are you doing here?"
"I am the night watchman," answered the voice. "Who are you?"
It struck Miss Forbes if the watchman knew that one of the
trespassers was a woman he would be at once reassured, and she
broke in quickly:
"We have lost our way," she said pleasantly. "We came
here----"
She found herself staring blindly down a shaft of light. For
an instant the torch held her, and then from her swept over
the young man.
"Drop that gun!" cried the voice. It was no longer the same
voice; it was now savage and snarling. For answer the young
man pressed the torch in his left hand, and, held in the two
circles of light, the men surveyed each other. The newcomer
was one of unusual bulk and height. The collar of his
overcoat hid his mouth, and his derby hat was drawn down over
his forehead, but what they saw showed an intelligent, strong
face, although for the moment it wore a menacing scowl. The
young man dropped his revolver into his pocket.
"My automobile ran dry," he said; "we came in here to get some
water. My chauffeur is back there somewhere with a couple of
buckets. This is Mr. Carey's place, isn't it?"
"Take that light out of my eyes!" said the watchman.
"Take your light out of my eyes," returned the young man. "You
can see we're not--we don't mean any harm."
The two lights disappeared simultaneously, and then each, as
though worked by the same hand, sprang forth again.
"What did you think I was going to do?" the young man asked.
He laughed and switched off his torch.
But the one the watchman held in his hand still moved from the
face of the girl to that of the young man.
"How'd you know this was the Carey house?" he demanded. "Do
you know Mr. Carey?"
"No, but I know this is his house." For a moment from behind
his mask of light the watchman surveyed them in silence. Then
he spoke quickly:
"I'll take you to him," he said, "if he thinks it's all right,
it's all right."
The girl gave a protesting cry. The young man burst forth
indignantly:
"You will NOT!" he cried. "Don't be an idiot! You talk
like a Tenderloin cop. Do we look like second-story workers?"
"I found you prowling around Mr. Carey's grounds at two in the
morning," said the watchman sharply, "with a gun in your hand.
My job is to protect this place, and I am going to take you
both to Mr. Carey."
Until this moment the young man could see nothing save the
shaft of light and the tiny glowing bulb at its base; now into
the light there protruded a black revolver.
"Keep your hands up, and walk ahead of me to the house,"
commanded the watchman. "The woman will go in front."
The young man did not move. Under his breath he muttered
impotently, and bit at his lower lip.
"See here," he said, "I'll go with you, but you shan't take
this lady in front of that madman. Let her go to her car.
It's only a hundred yards from here; you know perfectly well
she----"
"I know where your car is, all right," said the watchman
steadily, "and I'm not going to let you get away in it till
Mr. Carey's seen you." The revolver motioned forward. Miss
Forbes stepped in front of it and appealed eagerly to the
young man.
"Do what he says," she urged. "It's only his duty. Please!
Indeed, I don't mind." She turned to the watchman. "Which way
do you want us to go?" she asked.
"Keep in the light," he ordered.
The light showed the broad steps leading to the front entrance
of the house, and in its shaft they climbed them, pushed open
the unlocked door, and stood in a small hallway. It led into
a greater hall beyond. By the electric lights still burning
they noted that the interior of the house was as rich and well
cared for as the outside was miserable. With a gesture for
silence the watchman motioned them into a small room on the
right of the hallway. It had the look of an office, and was
apparently the place in which were conducted the affairs of
the estate.
In an open grate was a dying fire; in front of it a flat desk
covered with papers and japanned tin boxes.
"You stay here till I fetch Mr. Carey, and the servants,"
commanded the watchman. "Don't try to get out, and," he added
menacingly, "don't make no noise." With his revolver he
pointed at the two windows. They were heavily barred. "Those
bars keep Mr. Carey in," he said, "and I guess they can keep
you in, too. The other watchman," he added, "will be just
outside this door." But still he hesitated, glowering with
suspicion; unwilling to trust them alone. His face lit with
an ugly smile.
"Mr. Carey's very bad to-night," he said; "he won't keep his
bed and he's wandering about the house. If he found you by
yourselves, he might----"
The young man, who had been staring at the fire, swung sharply
on his heel.
"Get-to-hell-out-of-here!" he said. The watchman stepped into
the hall and was cautiously closing the door when a man sprang
lightly up the front steps. Through the inch crack left by
the open door the trespassers heard the newcomers eager
greeting.
"I can't get him right!" he panted. "He's snoring like a hog."
The watchman exclaimed savagely:
"He's fooling you." He gasped. "I didn't mor' nor slap him.
Did you throw water on him?"
"I drowned him!" returned the other. "He never winked. I
tell You we gotta walk, and damn quick!"
"Walk!" The watchman cursed him foully. "How far could we
walk? I'LL bring him to," he swore. "He's scared of us,
and he's shamming." He gave a sudden start of alarm. "That's
it, he's shamming. You fool! You shouldn't have left him."
There was the swift patter of retreating footsteps, and then a
sudden halt, and they heard the watchman command: "Go back,
and keep the other two till I come."
The next instant from the outside the door was softly closed
upon them.
It had no more than shut when to the surprise of Miss Forbes
the young man, with a delighted and vindictive chuckle, sprang
to the desk and began to drum upon it with his fingers. It
were as though he were practising upon a typewriter.
"He missed THESE," he muttered jubilantly. The girl leaned
forward. Beneath his fingers she saw, flush with the table, a
roll of little ivory buttons. She read the words "Stables,"
"Servants' hall." She raised a pair of very beautiful and
very bewildered eyes.
"But if he wanted the servants, why didn't the watchman do
that?" she asked.
"Because he isn't a watchman," answered the young man.
"Because he's robbing this house."
He took the revolver from his encumbering greatcoat, slipped
it in his pocket, and threw the coat from him. He motioned
the girl into a corner. "Keep out of the line of the door,"
he ordered.
"I don't understand," begged the girl.
"They came in a car," whispered the young man. "It's broken
down, and they can't get away. When the big fellow stopped us
and I flashed my torch, I saw their car behind him in the road
with the front off and the lights out. He'd seen the lamps of
our car, and now they want it to escape in.
That's why he brought us here--to keep us away from our car."
"And Fred!" gasped the girl. "Fred's hurt!"
"I guess Fred stumbled into the big fellow," assented the young
man, "and the big fellow put him out; then he saw Fred was a
chauffeur, and now they are trying to bring him to, so that he
can run the car for them. You needn't worry about Fred. He's
been in four smash-ups."
The young man bent forward to listen, but from no part of the
great house came any sign. He exclaimed angrily.
"They must be drugged," he growled. He ran to the desk and
made vicious jabs at the ivory buttons.
"Suppose they're out of order!" he whispered.
There was the sound of leaping feet. The young man laughed
nervously.
"No, it's all right," he cried. "They're coming!"
The door flung open and the big burglar and a small, rat-like
figure of a man burst upon them; the big one pointing a
revolver.
"Come with me to your car!" he commanded. "You've got to take
us to Boston. Quick, or I'll blow your face off."
Although the young man glared bravely at the steel barrel and
the lifted trigger, poised a few inches from his eyes, his
body, as though weak with fright, shifted slightly and his
feet made a shuffling noise upon the floor. When the weight
of his body was balanced on the ball of his right foot, the
shuffling ceased. Had the burglar lowered his eyes, the
manoeuvre to him would have been significant, but his eyes
were following the barrel of the revolver.
In the mind of the young man the one thought uppermost was
that he must gain time, but, with a revolver in his face, he
found his desire to gain time swiftly diminishing. Still,
when he spoke, it was with deliberation.
"My chauffeur--" he began slowly.
The burglar snapped at him like a dog. "To hell with your
chauffeur!" he cried. "Your chauffeur has run away. You'll
drive that car yourself, or I'll leave you here with the top
of your head off."
The face of the young man suddenly flashed with pleasure. His
eyes, looking past the burglar to the door, lit with relief.
"There's the chauffeur now!" he cried.
The big burglar for one instant glanced over his right
shoulder.
For months at a time, on Soldiers Field, the young man had
thrown himself at human targets, that ran and dodged and
evaded him, and the hulking burglar, motionless before him,
was easily his victim.
He leaped at him, his left arm swinging like a scythe, and,
with the impact of a club, the blow caught the burglar in the
throat.
The pistol went off impotently; the burglar with a choking
cough sank in a heap on the floor.
The young man tramped over him and upon him, and beat the
second burglar with savage, whirlwind blows. The second
burglar, shrieking with pain, turned to fly, and a fist, that
fell upon him where his bump of honesty should have been,
drove his head against the lintel of the door.
At the same instant from the belfry on the roof there rang out
on the night the sudden tumult of a bell; a bell that told as
plainly as though it clamored with a human tongue, that the
hand that rang it was driven with fear; fear of fire, fear of
thieves, fear of a mad-man with a knife in his hand running
amuck; perhaps at that moment creeping up the belfry stairs.
From all over the house there was the rush of feet and men's
voices, and from the garden the light of dancing lanterns.
And while the smoke of the revolver still hung motionless, the
open door was crowded with half-clad figures. At their head
were two young men. One who had drawn over his night clothes
a serge suit, and who, in even that garb, carried an air of
authority; and one, tall, stooping, weak of face and
light-haired, with eyes that blinked and trembled behind great
spectacles and who, for comfort, hugged about him a gorgeous
kimono. For an instant the newcomers stared stupidly through
the smoke at the bodies on the floor breathing stertorously,
at the young man with the lust of battle still in his face, at
the girl shrinking against the wall. It was the young man in
the serge suit who was the first to move.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"These are burglars," said the owner of the car. "We happened
to be passing in my automobile, and----"
The young man was no longer listening. With an alert,
professional manner he had stooped over the big burglar. With
his thumb he pushed back the man's eyelids, and ran his
fingers over his throat and chin. He felt carefully of the
point of the chin, and glanced up.
"You've broken the bone," he said.
"I just swung on him," said the young man. He turned his
eyes, and suggested the presence of the girl.
At the same moment the man in the kimono cried nervously:
"Ladies present, ladies present. Go put your clothes on,
everybody; put your clothes on."
For orders the men in the doorway looked to the young man with
the stern face.
He scowled at the figure in the kimono.
"You will please go to your room, sir," he said. He stood up,
and bowed to Miss Forbes. "I beg your pardon," he asked, "you
must want to get out of this. Will you please go into the
library?"
He turned to the robust youths in the door, and pointed at the
second burglar.
"Move him out of the way," he ordered.
The man in the kimono smirked and bowed.
"Allow me," he said; "allow me to show you to the library.
This is no place for ladies."
The young man with the stern face frowned impatiently.
"You will please return to your room, sir," he repeated.
With an attempt at dignity the figure in the kimono gathered
the silk robe closer about him.
"Certainly," he said. "If you think you can get on without
me--I will retire," and lifting his bare feet mincingly, he
tiptoed away. Miss Forbes looked after him with an expression
of relief, of repulsion, of great pity.
The owner of the car glanced at the young man with the stern
face, and raised his eyebrows interrogatively.
The young man had taken the revolver from the limp fingers of
the burglar and was holding it in his hand. Winthrop gave
what was half a laugh and half a sigh of compassion.
"So, that's Carey?" he said.
There was a sudden silence. The young man with the stern face
made no answer. His head was bent over the revolver. He
broke it open, and spilled the cartridges into his palm.
Still he made no answer. When he raised his head, his eyes
were no longer stern, but wistful, and filled with an
inexpressible loneliness.
"No, _I_ am Carey," he said.
The one who had blundered stood helpless, tongue-tied, with no
presence of mind beyond knowing that to explain would offend
further.
The other seemed to feel for him more than for himself. In a
voice low and peculiarly appealing, he continued hurriedly.
"He is my doctor," he said. "He is a young man, and he has
not had many advantages--his manner is not--I find we do not
get on together. I have asked them to send me some one else."
He stopped suddenly, and stood unhappily silent. The
knowledge that the strangers were acquainted with his story
seemed to rob him of his earlier confidence. He made an
uncertain movement as though to relieve them of his presence.
Miss Forbes stepped toward him eagerly.
"You told me I might wait in the library," she said. "Will
you take me there?"
For a moment the man did not move, but stood looking at the
young and beautiful girl, who, with a smile, hid the
compassion in her eyes.
"Will you go?" he asked wistfully.
"Why not?" said the girl.
The young man laughed with pleasure.
"I am unpardonable," he said. "I live so much alone--that I
forget." Like one who, issuing from a close room, encounters
the morning air, he drew a deep, happy breath. "It has been
three years since a woman has been in this house," he said
simply. "And I have not even thanked you," he went on, "nor
asked you if you are cold," he cried remorsefully, "or hungry.
How nice it would be if you would say you are hungry."
The girl walked beside him, laughing lightly, and, as they
disappeared into the greater hall beyond, Winthrop heard her
cry: "You never robbed your own ice-chest? How have you kept
from starving? Show me it, and we'll rob it together."
The voice of their host rang through the empty house with a
laugh like that of an eager, happy child.
"Heavens!" said the owner of the car, "isn't she wonderful!"
But neither the prostrate burglars, nor the servants, intent
on strapping their wrists together, gave him any answer.
As they were finishing the supper filched from the ice-chest,
Fred was brought before them from the kitchen. The blow the
burglar had given him was covered with a piece of cold
beef-steak, and the water thrown on him to revive him was
thawing from his leather breeches. Mr. Carey expressed his
gratitude, and rewarded him beyond the avaricious dreams even
of a chauffeur.
As the three trespassers left the house, accompanied by many
pails of water, the girl turned to the lonely figure in the
doorway and waved her hand.
"May we come again?" she called.
But young Mr. Carey did not trust his voice to answer.
Standing erect, with folded arms, in dark silhouette in the
light of the hall, he bowed his head.
Deaf to alarm bells, to pistol shots, to cries for help, they
found her brother and Ernest Peabody sleeping soundly.
"Sam is a charming chaperon," said the owner of the car.
With the girl beside him, with Fred crouched, shivering, on
the step, he threw in the clutch; the servants from the house
waved the emptied buckets in salute, and the great car sprang
forward into the awakening day toward the golden dome over the
Boston Common. In the rear seat Peabody shivered and yawned,
and then sat erect.
"Did you get the water?" he demanded, anxiously.
There was a grim silence.