Adventure stories; Fiction; Mystery fiction; Short stories
‘She took it and clung to it for a moment, struggling with her sobs; and
the next, with feverish hurry, began to lead him in the direction of the
city. One thing was plain, among so much that was obscure: it was plain
her fears were genuine. Still, as she went, she spied around as if for
dangers; and now she would shiver like a person in a chill, and now
clutch his arm in hers. To Challoner her terror was at once repugnant
and infectious; it gained and mastered, while it still offended him; and
he wailed in spirit and longed for release.
‘Madam,’ he said at last, ‘I am, of course, charmed to be of use to any
lady; but I confess I was bound in a direction opposite to that you
follow, and a word of explanation—’
‘Hush!’ she sobbed, ‘not here—not here!’
The blood of Challoner ran cold. He might have thought the lady mad; but
his memory was charged with more perilous stuff; and in view of the
detonation, the smoke and the flight of the ill-assorted trio, his mind
was lost among mysteries. So they continued to thread the maze of
streets in silence, with the speed of a guilty flight, and both thrilling
with incommunicable terrors. In time, however, and above all by their
quick pace of walking, the pair began to rise to firmer spirits; the lady
ceased to peer about the corners; and Challoner, emboldened by the
resonant tread and distant figure of a constable, returned to the charge
with more of spirit and directness.
‘I thought,’ said he, in the tone of conversation, ‘that I had
indistinctly perceived you leaving a villa in the company of two
gentlemen.’
‘Oh!’ she said, ‘you need not fear to wound me by the truth. You saw me
flee from a common lodging-house, and my companions were not gentlemen.
In such a case, the best of compliments is to be frank.’
‘I thought,’ resumed Challoner, encouraged as much as he was surprised by
the spirit of her reply, ‘to have perceived, besides, a certain odour. A
noise, too—I do not know to what I should compare it—’
‘Silence!’ she cried. ‘You do not know the danger you invoke. Wait,
only wait; and as soon as we have left those streets, and got beyond the
reach of listeners, all shall be explained. Meanwhile, avoid the topic.
What a sight is this sleeping city!’ she exclaimed; and then, with a most
thrilling voice, ‘“Dear God,” she quoted, “the very houses seem asleep,
and all that mighty heart is lying still.”’
‘I perceive, madam,’ said he, ‘you are a reader.’
‘I am more than that,’ she answered, with a sigh. ‘I am a girl condemned
to thoughts beyond her age; and so untoward is my fate, that this walk
upon the arm of a stranger is like an interlude of peace.’
They had come by this time to the neighbourhood of the Victoria Station
and here, at a street corner, the young lady paused, withdrew her arm
from Challoner’s, and looked up and down as though in pain or indecision.
Then, with a lovely change of countenance, and laying her gloved hand
upon his arm—
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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