CHAPTER XIII.
WIRELESS TALK.
At first, a mere jumble of indistinguishable sounds greeted her, punctuated by the sharp crack-crack from two amateur wireless telegraphers holding conversation across her field of hearing; but soon she had remedied all that, and had her apparatus tuned down to the wave lengths of the instrument at the post.
“Hello, there!” she broke in heedlessly on some practice work being given a couple of recruits by a sergeant instructor. “This is important,” she said, as the sergeant advised her, rather brusquely, not to “butt in.” “I wish to speak to Adjutant Grail at once!”
“And who are you?” the sergeant demanded, still truculent over the interruption.
“Miss Vedant!”
“Oh!” The voice, borne on the wings of the air, was now smooth and soft as oil. “Excuse me, miss, for speaking as I did. I mistook you for one of those amateurs that’s always bothering around. I’m sorry, miss, but Captain Grail ain’t at the post just now.”
“Do you know where he is, then? Or could you get hold of him for me?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea where he is, ma’am.” The sergeant’s stiff tone seemed also to indicate that neither did he care. Evidently he was of the party to whom Grail’s very name had become hateful.
Recollecting, however, to whom he was talking, he added, less churlishly: “The adjutant, ma’am, as I understand it, hasn’t been on the reservation since seven o’clock last night, and he left no word where he was going.”
“Nor when to expect him back?”
“Nor when to expect him back,” the sergeant echoed, a trifle cynically, for it was a matter of general belief at the barracks that Grail, unable to face the charges against him, had skipped out. Still, it was not for him to voice any such rumor to the colonel’s daughter, and he inquired diplomatically: “In case he does come in, ma’am, is there any message you wish to leave for him?”
“No; I guess not.” She hesitated. “No. I will try to call him up later in the day.”
Bitterly disappointed at the failure, and doubtful whether another opportunity would be granted her to reach the attic, she leaned her head in her two hands over the table, and tried to decide what to do.
Might it not be better, now that she was here, to remain beside the instrument until she could effect communication with Grail, rather than to risk the very dubious chances of again eluding the vigilance belowstairs? But she shook her head. Her absence, once discovered, and with the certainty that she could not have left the house in dishabille, they would never rest until they had ransacked the place from cellar to roof. Her retreat could not fail to be discovered, unless she were able to hide from the prying eyes of the searchers.
The suggestion drew her glance to a closet or compartment at one side of the attic, which, sheathed with iron, and having a combination lock on the door, had been fitted up as a sort of strong room. She had heard it spoken of, and remembered hearing that it was now in disuse and unlocked.
It was the very place. No one would ever dream of her being secreted inside, and she would be almost as safe from discovery as in a burglar-proof vault; yet there was a window at one side to give her light and air, and she could be just as comfortable there as in the wider spaces of the attic outside.
She stepped quickly to the door, but as she paused to fumble with the latch there reached her from within a faint sound of rustling and scratching.
Rats! The idea of opening that door, or seeking refuge in the strong room, died abruptly. With a timorous gasp, she fled down the attic steps as fast as her feet could carry her.
Fortunately, there was no one on the third floor to witnessher breathless exit, and, recovering somewhat from her panic, she managed to close the attic door and regain her own room without detection.
Hardly was she safe, however, before Marie made her appearance, looking distinctly worried and upset.
“Where has ma’mselle been?” she demanded, almost crossly. “I have been looking everywhere for her to serve her ze luncheon.”
“I?” Meredith found it hard work not to pant. “Oh, I have just been strolling about the house. By the way, Marie,” deftly turning the subject, “has not that frock of mine come back from the cleaner’s yet?”
Marie was apologetic. The “pig of a cleaner” had deceived her outrageously; she had just sent over for the frock, only to be informed that it would not be finished until four o’clock.
“Oh, well, it really makes no difference,” Meredith assured her carelessly. “Since I have given up the idea of going out to-day. Indeed, I think I shall try to take a long nap this afternoon. I did not sleep at all well last night.”
With this plausible excuse, she managed to throw the sentinel maid off guard, and, as Mrs. Schilder went out in the automobile, was able to effect two more trips to the attic undiscovered, although, unfortunately, without result. Each time she was informed that Captain Grail had not yet returned to the post.
So the long afternoon wore away fruitlessly, and with the passing of the hours passed also that feeling of buoyancy which Meredith had experienced in the morning, and which, no doubt, was largely due to the excitement of finding herself actively involved in the game.
Now, with the reaction, she was growing dispirited and apprehensive once more. Nothing seemed to have been accomplished. Her father’s whereabouts still continued a mystery; and, in addition, she now began to worry over Grail’s protracted absence. What if something had happened to him, too? Indeed, was it not almost certain that something must have happened to him?
Darker and darker grew her misgivings as she gave rein to her imagination, until, when Mrs. Schilder at last came in, she found the poor girl a picture of disconsolate woe.
“Is there no news?” Meredith raised her wan face in piteous question. Even from this deceitful source she might gather something in the way of a glance or expression.
But Mrs. Schilder’s countenance revealed nothing.
“I am sorry,” she said, “but the investigation seems to have come to a standstill. Every clew has been carefully worked out, the officers tell me, but to absolutely no avail. However,” she dropped her gloved hand on Meredith’s shoulder, “you must not let that discourage you, my dear. No news is always good news, remember; and no one concerned is lacking in activity in any direction.Mr.Schilder, indeed, is so deeply concerned that he has invited all the officers of the post to meet him here to-night and discuss what measures shall next be undertaken, and he says that unless they can show him a reasonable promise of success he will report the disappearance to the civil authorities.
“He told me to tell you of this conference, my dear,” she went on, “and ask you if you did not want to be present; although I told him that I hardly deemed it wise, since theories and conjectures are sure to be advanced which cannot help but be harrowing to you.”
“No.” Meredith’s tremors ceased with the offer of a change of action. Major Appleby might be bombastic, and Lieutenant Hemingway a fool, but surely there was some one among the officers—blunt old Dobbs, the surgeon, maybe—to whom she could whisper her suspicions.
“No,” she repeated, with decision, “there can be nothing said to cause me more apprehension than the possibilities I have already pictured to myself. ThankMr.Schilder for me, please, and tell him that I shall certainly attend the conference.”
First, however, she determined to call up Grail once more; then, if she failed to find him at the fort, she would be satisfied that some calamity had befallen him, and that both for his sake and her father’s she would have to resort to another ally.
Accordingly, an opportunity arising for her to slip away just as Major Appleby and his associates commenced to arrive, she stole once more to the attic.
Confronted by the darkness and the possibility of scampering rats, she halted for a moment, strongly tempted to turn and flee; then, nerving herself to the effort, although still quaking with trepidation, she dashed up the steps and over toward the wireless instrument.
Halfway across the space, her wild rush was abruptly stayed, and she came to her knees, a stifled shriek of terror on her lips.
She had stumbled over the body of a man, bound and gagged, lying directly in her path.