The Gray Mask by Charles Wadsworth Camp (best reads txt) 📖

Mrs. Alden nodded.

Garth grinned as the protective feminine instinct expressed itself through this woman in her most intricate hour.

“It was all arranged,” she said. “If you will close that door the house will be safe enough from the fire.”

She indicated her husband. There were tears in her eyes again.

“You will take care of him?”

“Yes,” Nora said.

She turned and closed the door. Through the sudden darkness Garth heard Mrs. Alden run into the hall. He sprang after her, but Nora’s voice, sharp and commanding, halted him.

“Let her go, Jim. I’ll explain. Light the lamp now.”

“You’ve earned the right to give the orders,” he said.

He felt his way to the writing-table and lighted the lamp.

“You know,” he said, “that there are many men near here—that they can trap us in this house?”

“I don’t think,” she answered, “that they will come to this house again.”

He turned to her.

“Nora! What is it? Even after all I’ve seen I can’t be sure. The furnaces? They are two miles away.”

She shook her head.

“Not the furnaces, Jim. Come with me and I will show you.”

She led him to an unlighted room across the hall and flung back the curtains.

The glare of a conflagration, far vaster than that which had threatened them in the conservatory, flashed in their eyes and lighted the neighborhood with a brilliancy fiercer than noonday.

For the first time Garth could see that the house stood on a high, wooded plateau. The trees had been cleared away between it and the water, and a slope, bordered with hedges, had been blastedto a beach, small and crescent-shaped. The fire blazed with a destructive violence in a structure on this beach. He recalled the driver’s gossip about Alden’s yacht. He saw a small launch, heavily-laden, making for the open sea.

“The boat house,” he said.

“Yes,” Nora answered. “Look.”

She drew a little back. An explosion tore at their ears. Somewheres upstairs a window broke. The tinkling of glass was like an absurdly attenuated echo. But Garth’s attention was fixed on the boathouse. The building appeared to disintegrate. Out of its ruins rose a colossal column of muddy smoke. From its summit streaming banners of purple and violet flame unfurled. They waved their frantic message to Garth. He turned, gaping, to Nora.

“That building!” he gasped. “It’s crowded with gasolene—oil!”

“You didn’t guess, Jim? You see now I couldn’t take chances. I had to light the signal that made them fire this.”

“And you were right,” he agreed. “Only the two of us—”

He gazed at her wonderingly. There was only pride in his voice.

“How many lives! How many millions of dollars ! You’ve spared them, Nora.”

Garth had lifted Alden to the sofa and had left Nora hovering over the man who, they knew now, had been systematically drugged for days. After reconnecting the telephone and notifying the federal authorities he had returned to the living-room. Nora arose, and, with her finger at her lips, joined him by the fireplace.

“He’s asleep,” she said. “You know, Jim, there wasn’t much point in your telephoning. They’ve destroyed the evidence. They’ve gone.”

She sat down. Garth drew a chair close to her. Their voices were low in order that Alden might not be disturbed.

“Was it near?” he asked. “The fact that they took the launch—yet they might put in at some lonely cove and scatter.”

“It must have been expected soon,” she answered. “They were working desperately. They were very anxious tonight.”

“You must have guessed, Nora, as soon as I left New York. How?”

“By giving father a scolding,” she answered with a smile. “I knew that Mrs. Alden had been born in Berlin, and that her family was still prominent there where Mr. Alden had married her. Even since her marriage she’s spent much time abroad. I wondered what these shadowy figures were doing in the woods on foggy nights unless they were transporting something or working about some building. But Mr. Alden would know if it had anything to do with the house or the stable. Since he was sick, the boathouse might be their objective without his knowing it. I suspected the truth then. Such anopportunity! No one would doubt the property of a man who manufactured ammunition for the government. The natural thought was that any attempts by Germans here would be directed against the furnaces or Alden personally. It was ideal. All that was necessary was to scare the servants away and keep Alden in the house while his wife and the rest made ready for it.”

“Still those men in the woods?” Garth asked.

“They were probably working at the furnaces. When you saw them they were on their way to the boathouse to make the necessary alterations. And, of course, they carried all the supplies there. You see, I went to the freight agent of the only railroad that runs to Deacon’s Bay. He helped me a lot. We found that a large number of heavy cases had been sent here and to nearby stations, falsely invoiced and labelled to be called for. He had suspected gasolene in one of them and was about to hold up further shipments. That settled it for me. I knew you were going blindly, so I took the next train.”

“How did you learn about the signal?” he asked.

“I came very quietly,” she answered, “a little like a sneak-thief, I’m afraid. That front window is a little open. I overheard Mrs. Alden and a huge man. Of course she was only to light that signal if the game was wholly up. It meant to them that there was a party big enough to handle the lot of them. So I made up my mind I mustslip in and burn it tonight, in case it was near by. I knew then they would burn the evidence, escape themselves, while the submarine would turn back, believing that the game was up.”

“What a base!” he muttered. “With the transatlantic lanes at its mercy. All those transports and freighters marked for destruction! Alden saved the fat.”

“Yes,” Nora answered, “I gathered from what they said that he made sure tonight somehow and faced her with it. That was when she screamed and tried to send you out. Then her courage failed her and she called you back. She wasn’t strong enough for murder. And from her point of view what she did was pure patriotism.”

“It was because he suspected his wife, poor devil,” Garth answered, “that he’d tell me nothing. I guess he hoped I’d convince him he was wrong.”

He had been staring at the fire. He looked up now to find that Nora was knitting complacently on something heavy and comfortable and grey. Her eyes were thoughtful.

“Wife against husband,” she mused. “Such tragedies are common in war. And she loved him. Have you noticed the conservatory door?”

It stood open. Through the glass Garth could see the far sea, still ruddy from the fire, and there entered again into his consciousness the restless clamor of water.

“He made me open it,” Nora went on. “He looked out there until he went to sleep—a sortof farewell, a welcome if she should come back. Perhaps she will some day.”

Such devotion stirred anew in Garth the sensations he had experienced in the conservatory. He watched Nora as her fingers moved with their accustomed deftness about her knitting. She made the old picture, lovable and tempting, of quiet, housewifely efficiency.

“You always knit,” he said in an uncertain voice.

“Another winter is very close,” she answered gravely, “and if the peace should be delayed there would be so much suffering—”

He stretched out his hand.

“Nora,” he said huskily, “you’ve saved my life tonight. It’s yours. What will you do with it?”

She glanced up. She smiled a little.

“You very nearly took mine, Jim, so aren’t we quits?”