The Adventures of Jimmie Dale [203]
you remember the last words you said, as you nodded to me behind the Magpie's back--that you would be here BEFORE us? There was no mistaking your meaning--if I could get away from him, I was to come here and meet you." Jimmie Dale passed his hand nervously across his eyes. Of course, he remembered now! What a frightful turmoil his brain had been in! "Yes; of course!" He tried to speak nonchalantly. "I had forgotten for the moment." She caught his arm in a quick, tight hold, shaking him in a terrified way. "YOU--forget a thing like that! Jimmie--something terrible has happened. Can't you see that I am nearly mad with anxiety! What is it? What is it? That package, Jimmie--is it the package?" He did not answer. What could he say? It meant life, hope, joy, everything that the world held for her--and it was gone. "Yes--it IS the package!" she whispered frantically. "Quick, Jimmie! Tell me! It--it was not there? You--you could not find it?" "It was there," he said, as though the words were literally forced from him. "Then? Then--WHAT, Jimmie?" The clutch on his arm was like a vise. "They got it," he said. It was like a death sentence that he pronounced. "It is destroyed." She did not speak or move--save that her hands, as though nerveless and without strength, fell away from his arms, and dropped to her sides. It was dark there under the stoop, though not so dark but that he could see her face. It was gray--gray as death. And there was misery and fear and a pitiful helplessness in it--and then she swayed a little, and he caught her in his arms. "Gone!" she murmured in a dead, colourless way--and suddenly laughed out sharply, hysterically. "Don't! For God's sake, don't do that!" he pleaded wildly. She looked at him then for a moment in strange quiet--and lifted her hand and stroked his face in a numbed way. "It--it would have been better, Jimmie, wouldn't it," she said in the same monotonous voice, "it would have been better if--if I had never found out anything, and they--they had done the same to me that they did to--to father." "Marie! Marie!" It was the first time he had ever spoken her name, and it was on his lips now in an agony of tenderness and appeal. "Don't! You mustn't speak like that!" "I'm tired," she said. "I--I can't fight any more." She did not cry. She lay there in his arms quite still--like a weary child. The minutes passed. When Jimmie Dale spoke again it was irrelevantly--and his face was very white: "Marie, describe the upper floor of that house over there for me." She roused herself with a start. "The upper floor?" she repeated slowly. "Why--why do you ask that?" "Have YOU forgotten in turn?" he said, with a steady smile. "That money in the safe--it's yours--we can at least save that out of the wreck. You only drew the basement plan and the first floor for the Magpie--the more I know about the house the better, of course, in case anything goes wrong. Now, see, try and be brave--and tell me quickly, for I must get through before the Magpie comes, and I have barely half an hour." "No, Jimmie--no!" She slipped out of his arms. "Let it alone! I am afraid. Something--I--I have a feeling that something will happen." "It is the only way." He said it involuntarily, more to himself than to her. "Jimmie, let it alone!" she said again. "No," he said. "I am going--so tell me quickly. Every minute that we wait is one that counts against us." She hesitated an instant--and then, speaking rapidly, made a verbal sketch of the upper portion of the house for him. "It's a very large house, isn't it?" he commented innocently--to pave the way for the question, above all others, that he had to ask. "Which is your uncle's, I mean that man's room?" "The first on the right, at the head of the landing," she answered. "Only, Jimmie, don't--don't go!" He drew her close to him again. "Now, listen," he said quietly. "When the Magpie comes and finds I am not here, lead him to think that the money he gave me was too much for me; that I am probably in some den, doped with drug--and hold him as long