But, or ever the blushing Corporal could escape, Barnabas caught and
wrung his hand: "And I, Corporal," said he, "I wish you both to know that I am proud
to have won two such staunch friends, and that I shall always esteem
it an honor to ask your aid or take your hands,--good night, Corporal!"
So saying, Barnabas turned upon his heel, and as he went his step
was free and his eye brighter than it had been.
He took an intricate course by winding alleys and narrow side-streets,
keeping his glance well about him until at length he came to a
certain door in a certain dingy street,--and, finding the faulty
latch yield to his hand, entered a narrow, dingy hall and groped his
way up the dingiest stairs in the world.
Now all at once he fancied he heard a stealthy footstep that climbed
on in the darkness before him, and he paused suddenly, but, hearing
nothing, strode on, then stopped again for, plain enough this time,
some one stumbled on the stair above him. So he stood there in the
gloom, very still and very silent, and thus he presently heard
another sound, very soft and faint like the breathing of a sigh. And
all at once Barnabas clenched his teeth and spoke.
"Who is it?" he demanded fiercely, "now, by God--if it's you,
Chichester--" and with the word, he reached out before him in the
dark with merciless, griping hands.
The contact of something warm and soft; a broken, pitiful cry of fear,
and he had a woman in his arms. And, even as he clasped that
yielding form, Barnabas knew instinctively who it was, and
straightway thrilled with a wild joy.
"Madam!" he said hoarsely. "Madam!"
But she never stirred, nay it almost seemed she sank yet closer into
his embrace, if that could well be.
"Cleone!" he whispered.
"Barnabas," sighed a voice; and surely no other voice in all the
world could have uttered the word so tenderly.
"I--I fear I frightened you?"
"Yes, a little--Barnabas."
"You are--trembling very much."
"Am I--Barnabas?"
"I am sorry that I--frightened you."
"I'm better now."
"Yet you--tremble!"
"But I--think I can walk if--"
"If--?"
"If you will help me, please--Barnabas."
Oh, surely never had those dark and dingy stairs, worn though they
were by the tread of countless feet, heard till now a voice so soft,
so low and sweet, so altogether irresistible! Such tender, thrilling
tones might have tamed Hyrcanean tigers or charmed the ferocity of
Cerberus himself. Then how might our Barnabas hope to resist, the
more especially as one arm yet encircled the yielding softness of
her slender waist and her fragrant breath was upon his cheek?
Help her? Of course he would.
"It's so very--dark," she sighed.