the white moll-第9章
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greasy； threadbare skirt over her head； and pinned the shawl tight
about her shoulders。 There was a big； voluminous pocket in the skirt；
and into this she dropped Gypsy Nan's revolver； and the paper she had
found wrapped around the key。
She could hear a commotion from below now。 It was the one thing she
had counted upon。 Rough Rorke might know she had entered the house；
but he could not know whereabouts in the house she was； and he would
naturally search each room as he came to it on the way up。 She fitted
the gray…streaked wig of tangled； matted hair upon her head； plunged
her hand into the box that Gypsy Nan used for her make…up and daubed
some of the grime upon both hands and face； adjusted the spectacles
upon her nose； hid her own clothing； closed the narrow trap…door in
the ceiling； and ran back； carrying the candle； to the washstand。
Here； there was a small and battered mirror； and more coolly； more
leisurely now； for the commotion still continued from the floor below；
she spread and rubbed in； as craftily as she could； the grime streaks
on her face and hands。 It was neither artistic nor perfect； but in
the meager； flickering light now the face of Gypsy Nan seemed to
stare reassuringly back at her。 It might not deceive any one in
daylight … she did not know； and it did not matter now … but with only
this candle to light the garret； since the lamp was empty； she could
fairly count on her identity not being questioned。
She blew out the candle； left it on the washstand； because； if she
could help it； she did not want to risk having it lighted near the
bed or door； and； tiptoeing now； went to the door； unlocked it； then
threw herself down upon the bed。
Possibly a minute went by； possibly two； and then there was a quick
step on the ladder…like stairs； the door handle was rattled violently；
and the door was flung open and slammed shut again。
Rhoda Gray sat upright on the bed。 It was her wits now； her wits
against Rough Rorke's； nothing else could save her。 She could not
even make out the man's form； it was so dark； but； as he had not
moved； she was quite well aware that he was standing with his back
to the door； evidently trying to place his surroundings。
It was Gypsy Nan； not Rhoda Gray； who spoke。
〃Who's dere？〃 she screeched。 〃D'ye hear； blast youse； who's dere？〃
Rough Rorke laughed gratingly。
〃That you； Nan； my dear？〃
〃Who d'youse t'ink it is…me gran'mother？〃 demanded Rhoda Gray
caustically。 〃Who are youse？〃
〃Rorke；〃 said Rorke shortly。 〃I guess you know； don't you？〃
〃Is dat so？〃 snorted Rhoda Gray。 〃Well den； youse can beat it … hop
it … on de jump！ Wot t'hell right have youse got bustin' into me
room at dis time of night … eh？ I ain't done nothin'！〃
Rough Rorke； his feet scuffling to feel the way； came forward。
〃Cut it out！〃 he snarled。 〃I ain't the only visitor you've got！
It's not you I want； it's the White Moll。〃
〃Wot's dat got to do wid me？〃 Rhoda Gray flung back hotly。 〃She
ain't here； is she？〃
〃Yes； she's here！〃 Rough Rorke's voice held an ugly menace。 〃I lost
her around the corner； but a woman from a window across the street；
who heard the row； saw her run into this house。 She ain't downstairs
… so you can figure the rest out the same way I do。〃
〃De woman was kiddin' youse！〃 Rhoda Gray； alias Gypsy Nan； cackled
derisively。 〃Dere ain't nobody here but me。〃
〃We'll see about that！〃 said Rough Rorke shortly。 〃Strike a light！〃
〃Aw； strike it yerself！〃 retorted Rhoda Gray。 〃I ain't yer servant！
Dere's a candle over dere on de washstand against de wall； if youse
wants it。〃
A match crackled and spurted into flame； its light fell upon the
lamp standing on the chair beside the bed。 Rough Rorke stepped
toward it。
〃Dere ain't any oil in dat；〃 croaked Rhoda Gray。 〃Didn't I tell
youse de candle was over dere on de washstand； an' …〃
The words seemed to freeze in her throat； the chair； the lamp； the
shadowy figure of the man in the match flame to swirl before her
eyes； and a sick nausea to come upon her soul itself。 With a short；
triumphant oath； Rough Rorke had stopped suddenly and reached in
under the chair。 And now he was dangling a new； black kid glove in
front of her。 Caught！ Yes； she was caught！ She remembered Gypsy
Nan's attempt to put on her gloves … one must have fallen to the floor
unnoticed by either of them when Gypsy Nan had thought to put them
in her pocket！ The man's voice came to her as from some great
distance：
〃So； she ain't here … ain't she！ I'll teach you to lie to me！
I'll …〃 The match was dying out。 Rorke raised it higher； and with
the last flicker located the washstand； and made toward it； obviously
for the candle。
Her wits against Rough Rorke's！ Nothing else could save her！
Failing to find any one here but herself； certain now that the White
Moll was here； only a fool could have failed in his deduction … and
Rough Rorke was not a fool。 Her wits against Rough Rorke's！ There
was the time left her while the garret was still in darkness； just
that； no more！
With a quick spring she leaped from the bed； seized the chair；
sending the lamp to the floor； and； dragging the chair after her to
make as much noise and confusion as she could； she rushed for the
door； screeching at the top of her voice：
〃Run； dearie； run！ Run！〃 She was scuffling with her feet；
clattering the chair； as she wrenched the door open。 And then； in
her own voice： 〃Nan； I won't！ I won't let you stand for this； I …〃
Then as Gypsy Nan again： 〃Run； dearie！ Don't youse mind old Nan！〃
She banged the door shut； locked it； and whipped out the key。 It had
taken scarcely a second。 She was still screeching at the top of her
voice to cover the absence of flying footers on the stairs。 〃Run；
dearie； run！ Run！〃
And then； in the darkness； the candle still unlighted； Rough Rorke
was on her like a madman。 With a sweep of his arm he sent her
crashing to the floor； and wrenched at the door。 The next instant
he was on her again。
〃The key！ Give me that key！〃 he roared。
For answer she flung it from her。 It fell with a tinkle on the
floor at the far end of the garret。 The man was beside himself
with rage。
〃Damn you； if I had time； I'd wring your neck for this； you
she…devil！〃 he bawled…and raced back； evidently for the candle
on the washstand。
Rhoda Gray； sprawled on the floor where he had thrown her； did not
move…except to take the revolver from the pocket of her dress。 She
was crooning queerly to herself； as she watched Rough Rorke light
the candle and grope around on the floor：
〃She was good to me； de White Moll was。 Jellies an' t'ings she
brought me； she did。 An' Gypsy Nan don't ferret。 Gypsy Nan don't …〃
She sat up suddenly； snarling。 Rorke had found the key； left the
bottle with the short stub of guttering candle standing on the floor；
and was back again。
〃By God！〃 he gritted through his teeth； as he jabbed the key with
frantic haste into the lock。 〃I'll fix you for this！〃 He made a
clutch at her throat； as he swung the door open。
She jerked herself backward； eluding him； her revolver leveled。
〃Youse keep yer dirty paws off me！〃 she screamed。 〃Yah； wot can
youse do！ Wot do I care！ She was good to me； she was； an …〃
Rough Rorke was gone…taking the stairs three and four at a time。
Then she heard the street door slam。
She rose slowly to her feet … and suddenly reached out； grasping at
the door to steady herself。 It seemed as though every muscle had
gone limp； as though her limbs had not strength to support her。
And for a moment she hung there； then she locked the door； staggered
back； sank down on the edge of the bed； and； with her chin in her
hands； stared at the guttering stub of candle。 And presently； in
an almost aimless； mechanical way； she felt in her pocket for the
piece of paper that she had found wrapped around the key； and drew
it out。 There were three figures scrawled upon it … nothing else。
7 3 9
She dropped her chin in her hands again； and stared again at the
candle。 And after a while the candle went out。
IV。 THE ADVENTURER
Twenty…Four ho
