the white moll-第40章
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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 there。
The knocking ceased； and now the form seemed to bend down and grope
along the floor； and then； an instant later； it began to descend the
ladder…like steps … and abruptly Rhoda Gray； too； moved forward。 It
wasn't Danglar。 That was what had instantly taken hold of her mind；
and she knew a sudden relief now。 The man on the stairs … she could
see that it was a man now … though he moved silently； swayed in a
grotesquely jerky way as though he were lame。 It wasn't Danglar！
She would go to any length to track Danglar to his lair； but not
here … here in the darkness … here in the garret。 Here she was
afraid of him with a deadly fear； here alone with him there would
be a thousand chances of exposure incident to the slightest intimacy
he might show the woman whom he believed to be his wife … a thousand
chances here against hardly one in any other environment or
situation。 But the man on the stairs wasn't Danglar。
She halted now and uttered a sharp exclamation； as though she had
caught sight of the man for the first time。
The other； too； had halted … at the foot of the stairs。 A plaintive
drawl reached her：
〃Don't screech； Bertha！ It's only your devoted brother…in…law。
Curse your infernal ladder； and my twisted back！〃
Danglar's brother！ Bertha！ She snatched instantly at the cue with
an inward gasp of thankfulness。 She would not make the mistake of
using the vernacular behind which Gypsy Nan sheltered herself。 Here
was some one who knew that Gypsy Nan was but a role。 But she had to
remember that her voice was slightly hoarse； that her voice； at least；
could not sacrifice its disguise to any one。 Danglar had been a
little suspicious of it until she had explained that she was
suffering from a cold。
〃Oh！〃 she said calmly。 〃It's you； is it？ And what brought you
here？〃
〃What do you suppose？〃 he complained irritably。 〃The same old
thing； all I'm good for … to write out code messages and deliver
them like an errand boy！ It's a sweet job； isn't it？ How'd you
like to be a deformed little cripple？〃
She did not answer at once。 The night seemed suddenly to be opening
some strange； even premonitory； vista。 The code messages！ Their
mode of delivery！ Here was the answer！
〃Maybe I'd like it better than being Gypsy Nan！〃 she flung back
significantly。
He laughed out sharply。
〃I'd like to trade with you；〃 he said； a quick note of genuine envy
in his voice。 〃You can pitch away your clothes； I can't pitch away
a crooked spine。 And； anyway； after to…night； you'll be living
swell again。
She leaned toward him； staring at him in the semi…darkness。 That
premonitory vista was widening； his words seemed suddenly to set her
brain in tumult。 After to…night！ She was to resume； after to…night；
the character that was supposed to lay behind the disguise of Gypsy
Nan！ She was to resume her supposedly true character … that of
Pierre Danglar's wife！
〃What do you mean？〃 she demanded tensely。
〃Aw； come on！〃 he said abruptly。 〃This isn't the place to talk。
Pierre wants you at once。 That's what the message was for。 I
thought you were out； and I left it in the usual place so you'd get
it the minute you got back and come along over。 So； come on now
with me。〃
He was moving down the hallway； blotching like some misshapen toad
in the shadowy light； lurching in his walk； that was； nevertheless；
almost uncannily noiseless。 Mechanically she followed him。 She was
trying to think； striving frantically to bring her wits to play on
this sudden and unexpected denouement。 It was obvious that he was
taking her to Danglar。 She had striven desperately last night to
run Danglar to earth in his lair。 And here was a self…appointed
guide！ And yet her emotions conflicted and her brain was confused。
It was what she wanted； what through bitter travail of mind she had
decided must be her course； but she found herself shrinking from it
with dread and fear now that it promised to become a reality。 It
was not like last night when of her own initiative she had sought
to track Danglar； for then she had started out with a certain freedom
of action that held in reserve a freedom to retreat if it became
necessary。 To…night it was as though she were deprived of that
freedom； and being led into what only too easily might develop into
a trap from which she could not retreat or escape。
Suppose she refused to go？
They had reached the street now； and now she obtained a better view
of the misshapen thing that lurched jerkily along beside her。 The
man was deformed； miserably deformed。 He walked most curiously；
half bent over； and one arm； the left； seemed to swing helplessly；
and the left hand was like a withered thing。 Her eyes sought the
other's face。 It was an old face； much older than Danglar's； and
it was white and pinched and drawn； and in the dark eyes； as they
suddenly darted a glance at her； she read a sullen； bitter brooding
and discontent。 She turned her head away。 It was not a pleasant
face； it struck her as being both morbid and cruel to a degree。
Suppose she refused
