"Apart from the blame attaching to the outside guards, it seems highly probable that the articles found in the girl's cell must have been passed to her by one of the prison employees. Six persons had regular access to her cell; four women keepers, and two head keepers, men. All six strenuously deny any complicity in the matter.
"A very unfortunate impression has been created by the affair, which is bound to revive the old gossip that in several of the state prisons there is a regular underground organisation for the purposes of assisting prisoners to escape—for a consideration. A rigid investigation is in progress."
I went into my mistress's room to talk the matter over.
"Well, Bella," she said teasingly. "I see they are looking for you."
But she could not frighten me that way. I knew I was safe under her protection. "What amazing boldness!" I said.
"Yes," she said with a half smile. "Imagine having a rendezvous with one's friends at the top of that tall window in the middle of the night! Imagine skimming over the prison wall, and hustling away through the night in one's trusty Ford! After solitary confinement, what an extraordinary joy in finding oneself free under the sky! It almost makes one wish one were a desperate crook!"
"I am quite content to forgo those pleasures," I said.
She laughed delightedly. She takes endless pleasure in drawing me out, as you have seen; but, bless her heart! I don't mind.
"Are you going to take any action, now?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "Let us insert another personal in the
Sphere
. Take this down: 'X: Congratulations. Call us up some time. Y.'"
I wrote it down with, I suppose, a somewhat disapproving expression, for she laughed again.
"No," she said. "That's too immoral. We must uphold society. Cross it out, and try this: 'X. I am your friend. Call me up. Y.'"
It was so done.
Meanwhile the press of other business continued. Besides the ridiculous Van der Venter case which took up so much time, there was the affair of Lear Gaybourn, the gun-runner, which had international complications; and there was much routine business. Almost every day new cases were offered us which we had to turn down. Mme. Storey steadfastly refuses to form an organisation. "It would enslave me," she says. "It would spoil all the fun. I will be a free lance until I die." Consequently she will accept nothing that she cannot give her personal attention to.
It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and I was trying to bring some order out of the conflicting affidavits in the Van der Venter case, and at the same time answer the telephone every few minutes, and receive numerous callers. I had, sitting in my office, a bank president, a police inspector, and two lesser lights, all patiently awaiting their turn to see my mistress. With her was a very great man indeed, who had come all the way from Washington to see her. I will designate him as Secretary X.
The telephone rang again, and I took down the receiver, swearing inwardly. But I instantly recognised the somewhat hoarse yet musical voice that came over the wire, and my heart began to beat with the most painful intensity.
"Is this Madame Storey's office?" Her voice was breathless, too, and that increased my excitement.
"Yes," I stammered. "This is Bella Brickley, her secretary. I know your voice."
"Can I speak to her?"
"Oh!" I said in a sort of despair. "She is so busy. Could you call again in a few minutes?"
"No," said the voice, sharp with disappointment. "I am watched. I don't know when I'll get another chance. But it doesn't matter...."
"Wait! Wait!" I said. "Hold the wire, and I will try to arrange it."
I tapped on the door of my mistress's room, and went in. She saw by my face that there was something in the wind. "That person whom we were expecting to call up is on the wire," I said.
There was no hesitation in her. "I am extremely sorry, Mr. Secretary," she said, "but this is a matter of the most urgent importance. I am forced to ask you to step outside for a moment, while I talk to this person."
The Secretary was a pompous man of great girth, whose shapelessness was emphasized by the formal clothes that government dignitaries affect. He was exceedingly affronted by Mme. Storey's simple request, and turned as red as a strawberry. But there was nothing for it but to obey.
As I followed him through the door, Mme. Storey said to me in a low tone: "Listen in."
Having seated my indignant Secretary, I flew to the telephone, and switching the call to Mme. Storey's desk, put the receiver to my ear.
"Hallo!"
"Is this Madame Storey?" asked the breathless voice.
Then my mistress's friendly, casual accents: "Yes. So this is you, my dear! I had to send a member of the Cabinet out of the room in order to talk to you."
"I never expected to be talking to you," faltered Melanie. "I don't know what to say now.... Everything has gone out of my head."
"Well, the first thing to do is to arrange a meeting," said Mme. Storey. "Can't you come here?"
"No," said Melanie. "You don't understand. We can't meet. I'm watched every minute. They don't trust me."
"Who doesn't trust you?"
"I can't explain the whole thing. There isn't time. I tried to shake them, see? and run my own show. That's why I was railroaded to Woburn. To make me feel their power. Thirteen years I was facing; I near went out of my mind. When they thought I had had my lesson they got me out again. They need me. But they're still leery of me. I'm not allowed out yet. When I do go out I suppose she'll go with me. It's just by a chance I could telephone. She had to go downstairs. When I hear her start up again, I'll have to hang up sudden."
"Where are you?" asked Mme. Storey.
"I won't tell you that," said Melanie despairingly.
"I understand," said my mistress with undiminished kindness. "Answer me this: If you could come to me, would you?"
"I want to," said Melanie very low, "but .... but ... maybe you'd think you had to send me back to Woburn.... It isn't as if I had any of the stuff put away," she added rather pitifully. "The woman got her pearls back. I haven't got a cent to my name."
"I promise you I'll never send you back," said Mme. Storey energetically. "I will take that responsibility."
"But you'd expect me to blow the whole game," said Melanie. "I don't know as I could do that. There's too many in it. Some are just plain unfortunate. It's all mixed up. I've got to decide what to do.... Besides, if it all came out, I'd have to go back to Woburn anyhow."
"Hold on!" said Mme. Storey; "let's take up these questions separately. I want you to come to me for your own sake, primarily. There are no strings to my offer. We will make friends. If you feel like telling me the whole story, all right. But there shall be no constraint upon you. If you
do
tell me, I promise you that we will exact a pardon for you from the governor himself, before we tell another soul. Excepting Bella, of course."
"You are kind," said Melanie. "But you don't know what I'm up against. They would stop at nothing. They would shoot the governor himself sooner than have their game queered. If I came to you, they would croak us both."
"Nonsense!" said Mme. Storey crisply. "I have the means to protect you, and myself, too. I promise you full protection once you are inside my door. I will have twenty men for the purpose, should it be necessary. Not uniformed police, either, but my own men."
There was a pause, then Melanie's voice came firmly: "All right. I'll come."
"You can't say when, of course," said Mme. Storey.
"No. I must take my chance when I see it."
"At whatever time of day or night it may be, come to the office," said Mme. Storey. "I can best take care of you here. Even though I am not here myself, you will be expected; and you will find strong protectors waiting."
There was no answer from Melanie.
"Are you there?" asked Mme. Storey.
Her voice rang dead over the wire, and we realised that Melanie had been obliged to hang up in a hurry. But she must have received the gist of her instructions. I suppose we both offered up a little prayer that she might not have been surprised at the phone. It was painful to be left in such suspense.
I put up the receiver, and ushered the Secretary back into Mme. Storey's office. Not a muscle of my mistress's face had changed, but her expressive eyes sought mine gravely and questioningly. She was asking me with her eyes if she was leading me into more danger than I cared to face. I was afraid; nevertheless, I answered her with my eyes as courageously as I could. Meanwhile, the stuffed secretary had started a prosy, pompous speech. He thought he was everything in our lives.
When he had gone, Mme. Storey pressed the button under her desk that summons John Wagstaffe, our young janitor-engineer, from the basement. Mme. Storey employs a number of men, but naturally they do not hang around the office. There are only us two women there, and at my earnest solicitation this bell had been put in. It had come in very handy once or twice, when we wished to get rid of a nuisance.
John responded promptly. John is a host in himself. Like Georges Carpentier, he combines brawn and charm in equal degrees. He looked a little disappointed upon finding that there was no one to throw out this time. He adores Mme. Storey, and only regrets that we have no occasion to call on him oftener.
"John," said Mme. Storey, "are there any vacancies in this building?"
"No vacancies, ma'am. But Mr. Spelman is trying to sublet. Parlour, bedroom and bath, second floor, rear."
"I'll take it," said Mme. Storey. "When can I get the key?"
"In just so long as it takes me to go downstairs and get it, ma'am," said John, grinning.
"There's a friend of mine, a young woman, who has dangerous enemies, John," Mme. Storey went on. "I have offered her a refuge here, and have told her that we will take her in any time of day or night. From this time on, I will keep two or three men here to protect her, and I'll count on you, too."
"Yes, ma'am!" said John enthusiastically.
"My men will sleep in the back room of my offices, and we'll save the suite upstairs for the girl. One of the men will be on duty down in the hall every night, after the building is closed, in order to admit her, should she come. She may come in the daytime. I will talk to the two hall-boys. Once she is in the building, you must all be especially careful about admitting strangers. No information of any sort must be given out. While she is here, all callers who ask for me must be seated in the hall while their names are sent up."
John fairly stammered in his eagerness. "Yes, ma'am; you can count on me, ma'am. The boys, too. No information about your matters is ever given out. I only hope they'll come, that's all. I hope they come!"
"That's all now," said Mme. Storey. "We'll talk about this again."
When he had gone, Mme. Storey gave me instructions to be transmitted to three of our men; Stephenson, Ketchell and Crider. Crider was one of the best men we had, and he could ill be spared from the work he was on; but he was such a sane, dependable fellow, it was a comfort to us to have him at hand.
"Are you scared, Bella?" Mme. Storey asked me, smiling.
I denied it.
"The danger to us is not so great as the poor girl supposes," said Mme. Storey. "Once she gets inside our door, they will realise that the game is up, and run for cover. If they suspected her intention, of course they would stop at nothing in order to prevent her from carrying it out...." She paused, her face full of a grave concern. "Oh, well," she said, trying to shake it off, "she's a wise, wise kid. We can only hope for the best."
Ten days passed without our hearing any further from Melanie. Of course, we had our work to do, and we could only give an occasional thought to the girl by day—thoughts that became ever heavier with anxiety as the days went by. Outside of office hours, the girl was continually in my mind. I tried in vain to picture her situation from the ominous hints she had given over the telephone; who were the dreadful "they" at whose mention the bold girl trembled? what sort of house was it where she was confined? who was this "she" who was her jailer? Mme. Storey and I discussed her very little. There was nothing to be said. If she did not come to us of her own free will, we could make no move to find her, for, as an escaped convict, she was as one of the living dead.
The three active, able men chafed very much at their enforced inaction. As the days passed and nothing happened, their situation began to appear ridiculous to them. Mme. Storey finally let two of them go in the daytime, with instructions to report frequently by phone. Crider, excellent fellow! remained with us, and all three still slept in the back room.
Then came the afternoon that I shall never forget.
A brilliant afternoon towards the end of May, and the little square outside our windows was gay with running children. In the office we were enjoying a blessed interlude of peace; and Mme. Storey and I, she at her desk, I at mine, were working busily to catch up with the arrears. Crider was in my room filing away the reports which had accumulated.
The telephone rang. Nowadays my heart always gave a little jump at the sound of the telephone bell, and this time the little jump was followed by a great one, when I heard the anxiously-awaited voice on the wire. There was a gay ring in it now. She did not ask for Mme. Storey, but delivered her message to me direct.
"Hello, sister! I'm on my way ... that is, if it's all right."
"Surely, surely!" I said. "We've been looking for you."
"I know. I didn't dare chance the telephone again. Too near a thing that other time. I've been playing a deep part, kid. I've satisfied them now that I'm thoroughly broke, and to-day I was let out for the first on my own. I've been walking around to make sure I wasn't trailed. It's all right ... Is she there?"
"Yes."
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
"Better take a taxi," I said. "It's safer."
"I haven't got the price, darling.... Tooriloo...."
"Wait a minute!" I cried. I felt that Mme. Storey ought to be consulted.