the white moll-第35节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
How minutely every detail of the night now seemed to explain itself
and dovetail with every other one！ At the time； when Shluker had
been present； it had struck her as a little forced and unnecessary
that the Pug should have volunteered to seek out Danglar with
explanations after the money had been secured。 But she understood
now the craft and guile that lay behind his apparently innocent plan。
The Adventurer needed both time and an alibi； and also he required
an excuse for making Pinkie Bonn the custodian of the stolen money；
and of getting Pinkie alone with that money in the Pug's room。
Going to Danglar supplied all this。 He had hurried back； changed
in that room from the Pug to the Adventurer； and proposed in the
latter character to relieve Pinkie of the money； to return then
across the hall； become the Pug again； and then go back； as though
he had just come from Danglar； to find his friend and ally； Pinkie
Bonn； robbed by their mutual arch…enemy … the Adventurer！
The Pug…the Adventurer！ She did not quite seem to grasp its
significance as applied to her in a personal way。 It seemed to
branch out into endless ramifications。 She could not somehow think
logically； coolly enough now； to decide what this meant in a
concrete way to her； and her to…morrow； and the days after the
to…morrow。
She hurried on。 To…night； as she would lay awake through the hours
that were to come； for sleep was a thing denied； perhaps a clearer
vision would be given her。 For the moment there … there was
something else … wasn't there？ The money that belonged to the old
couple。
She hurried on。 She came again to the street where the old couple
lived。 It was a dirty street； and from the curb she stooped and
picked up a dirty piece of old newspaper。 She wrapped the banknotes
in the paper。
There were not many people on the street as she neared the mean
little frame house； but she loitered until for the moment the
immediate vicinity was deserted； then she slipped into the alleyway；
and stole close to the side window； through which； she had noted
from the street； there shone a light。 Yes； they were there； the
two of them … she could see them quite distinctly even through
the shutters。
She went back to the front door then； and knocked。 And presently
the old woman came and opened the door。
〃This is yours；〃 Rhoda said； and thrust the package into the woman's
hand。 And as the woman looked from her to the package
uncomprehendingly； Rhoda Gray flung a quick 〃good…night〃 over her
shoulder； and ran down the steps again。
But a few moments later she stole back； and stood for an instant
once more by the shuttered window in the alleyway。 And suddenly
her eyes grew dim。 She saw an old man； white and haggard； with
bandaged head； sitting in a chair； the tears streaming down
his face； and on the floor； her face hidden on the other's knees；
a woman knelt … and the man's hand stroked and stroked the thin
gray hair on the woman' s head。
And Rhoda Gray turned away。 And out in the street her face was
lifted and she looked upward； and there were myriad stars。 And
there seemed a beauty in them that she had never seen before； and
a great； comforting serenity。 And they seemed to promise something
… that through the window of that stark and evil garret to which
she was going now； they would keep her dreaded vigil with her until
morning came again。
XIV。 THE LAME MAN
Another night … another day！ And the night again had been without
rest； lest Danglar's dreaded footstep come upon her unawares； and
the day again had been one of restless； abortive activity； now
prowling the streets as Gypsy Nan； now returning to the garret to
fling herself upon the cot in the hope that in daylight； when
she might risk it； sleep would come； but it had been without avail；
for； in spite of physical weariness； it seemed to Rhoda Gray as
though her tortured mind would never let her sleep again。 Danglar's
wife！ That was the horror that was in her brain； yes； and in her
soul； and that would not leave her。
And now night was coming upon her once more。 It had even begun to
grow dark here on the lower stairway that led up to that wretched；
haunted garret above where in the shadows stark terror lurked。
Strange！ Most strange！ She feared the night … and yet she welcomed
it。 In a little while； when it grew a little darker； she would
steal out again and take up her work once more。 It was only during
the night； under the veil of darkness； that she could hope to make
any progress in reaching to the heart and core of this criminal
clique which surrounded her； whose members accepted her as Gypsy
Nan； and； therefore； as one of themselves； and who would accord to
her； if they but even suspected her to be the White Mall； less mercy
than would be shown to a mad dog。
She climbed the stairs。 Fear was upon her now； because fear was
always there； and with it was abhorrence and loathing at the
frightful existence fate had thrust upon her； but； somehow； to…night
she was not so depressed； not so hopeless； as she had been the night
before。 There had been a little success； she had come a little
farther along the way； she knew a little more than she had known
before of the inner workings of the gang who were at the bottom of
the crime of which she herself was accused。 She knew now the
Adventurer's secret； that the Pug and the Adventurer were one； and
she knew where the Adventurer lived； now in one character； now in
the other； in those two rooms almost opposite each other across
that tenement hall。
And so it seemed that she had the right to hope； even though there
were still so many things she did not know； that if she allowed her
mind to dwell upon that phase of it； it staggered her … where those
code messages came from； and how； why Rough Rorke of headquarters
had never made a sign since that first night； why the original
Gypsy Nan； who was dead now； had been forced into hiding with the
death penalty of the law hanging over her； why Danglar； though Gypsy
Nan's husband； was comparatively free。 These； and a myriad other
things！ But she counted now upon her knowledge of the Adventurer's
secret to force from him everything he knew； and； with that to work
on； a confession from some of the gang in corroboration that would
prove the authorship of the crime of which she had seemingly been
caught in the act of committing。
Yes； she was beginning to see the way at last … through the
Adventurer。 It seemed a sure and certain way。 If she presented
herself before him as Gypsy Nan； whom he believed to be not only
one of the gang； but actually Danglar's wife； and let him know
that she was aware of the dual role he was playing； and that the
information he thus acquired as the Pug he turned to his own
account and to the undoing of the gang； he must of necessity be at
her mercy。 Her mercy！ What exquisite irony！ Her mercy！ The man
her heart loved； the thief her common sense abhorred！ What irony！
When she； too； played a double role； when in their other characters；
that of the Adventurer and the White Moll； he and she were linked
together by the gang as confederates； whereas； in truth； they were
wider apart than the poles of the earth！
Her mercy！ How merciful would she be … to the thief she loved？ He
knew； he must know； all the inner secrets of the gang。 She smiled
wanly now as she reached the landing。 Would he know that in the
last analysis her threat would be only an idle one； that； though her
future； her safety； her life depended on obtaining the evidence she
felt he could supply； her threat would be empty； and that she was
powerless … because she loved him。 But he did not know she loved
him … she was Gypsy Nan。 If she kept her secret； if he did not
penetrate her disguise as she had penetrated his； if she were Gypsy
Nan and Danglar's wife to him； her threat would be valid enough；
and … and he would be at her mercy！
A flush； half shamed； half angry； dyed the grime that was part of
Gypsy Nan's disguise upon her face。 What was she saying to herself？
What was she thinking？ That he did not know she loved him！ How
would he？ How could he？ Had a word； an act； a single look of hers
ever given him a hint that； when she had been with him as the White
Moll； she cared！ It was unjust； unfair； to fling such a taunt at
herself。 It seemed as though she had lost nearly everything in
life； but she had not yet lost her womanliness and her pride。
She had certainly lost her senses； though！ Even if that word； that
look； that act had passed between them； between the Adventurer and
the White Moll； he still did not know that Gypsy Nan was the White
Moll … and that was the one thing now that he must not know； and。。。
Rhoda Gray halted suddenly； and stared along the hallway ahead of
her； and up the short； ladder…like steps that led to the garret。
Her ears … or was it fancy？ … had caught what sounded like a low
knocking up there upon her door。 Yes； it came again now distinctly。
It was dusk outside； in here； in the hall； it was almost dark。 Her
eyes strained through the murk。 She was not mistaken。 Something
darker than the surrounding darkness； a form； moved up th
