The Case and The Girl | Page 9

advance that she might test his nerve and

discretion. This appealed to him as the most reasonable explanation of
the situation. But beyond this vague guess, it was impossible to delve.
He possessed no facts, no knowledge; he could only keep faith in her,
and wait the time of explanation.
Tired by the uselessness of such thinking West finally sought the bed,
and must have slept, although scarcely aware that he had closed his
eyes.
Some slight noise aroused him. The door leading into the hall, which he
had failed to lock, stood partially ajar, and his eyes caught the vague
glimpse of a figure gliding swiftly through the opening. With one
bound he was upon his feet, springing recklessly forward. The hall was
dark, but for a patch of moonlight at the further end. Against this he
caught an instant, flitting glimpse of the intruder. It was a woman, yet
even as his eyes told him this, she seemed to vanish into thin air--the
hall was empty.

CHAPTER IV
MISS COOLIDGE EXPLAINS
Vague and indistinct as was that fleeting vision in the moonlight, West
felt no doubt as to the identity of his visitor--the woman was Natalie
Coolidge. His one glimpse of her vanishing figure assured him of this
fact, and he drew back instantly, unwilling to follow. Where she had
gone he neither knew, nor cared. She had come to his room secretly,
supposing him asleep, and this surprising knowledge dominated his
mind. What could such an act mean? This was certainly a home of
respectability, of wealth. The guests being entertained were evidence of
that; yet this secret entrance into his private apartment at such an hour
suggested theft, or even some more desperate crime. There was
mystery here, at least, a mystery beyond his power of discernment.
However, this recognition rather hardened him to his task, than
otherwise. He had been forced into the strange environment, and now
meant to penetrate its every secret.

This time he locked the outer door carefully, and lay down on the bed,
wondering if there would be any further developments. As he attempted
to think, he was listening eagerly for the slightest sound of movement
in the hall. There were none; the transom stood partially open, but no
noise reached his ears from the outside; clearly enough the night
prowler, assured that he was still awake, had decided to make no
further effort. Doubtless she believed her escape had been unseen, or, at
least, that she had remained unrecognized in the gloom, and would now
resort to some entirely different method for achieving her end,
whatever it could be. He could only wait, and watch for the next move.
Perhaps the morning would bring full explanation. With this conception
in his mind, his head sought the pillow, and he lapsed into
unconsciousness.
The long training of army service caused West to awaken early, while
the house was yet quiet, but with the dawn already red in the East. He
crossed to the window, and looked out. It was a beautiful morning, the
green lawn yet sparkling with dew; the estate was evidently a fine one,
quite extensive and carefully attended to. To the right of the tennis
court was a well arranged flower garden, criss-crossed by white paths,
an ornate summer-house in its centre, completely concealed by vines.
Beyond this, conspicuous against the green back-ground, West caught
the flutter of a white skirt, realizing instantly that, early as the hour was,
Natalie Coolidge was already up and about. He wondered if her
presence might not be an invitation for him? Perhaps she had
deliberately chosen this early hour, before the others awoke, to explain
her strange conduct of the previous evening? At least, here was an
opportunity to see and talk with her alone.
He dressed swiftly, and slipped noiselessly down-stairs, unlocking the
front door, and emerging into the fresh air, without encountering any
stray members of the household. Not even a servant was visible. He
passed beyond the vine draped arbour before she realized his approach,
and straightened up, a freshly cut rose in one gloved hand, the pruning
shears in the other, welcoming him with a little laugh, her eyes full of
demure mischief.

"I rather suspected army discipline had not entirely worn off," she said
pleasantly, "and that you might still prove to be an early riser."
"And does this expectation account for your presence?"
"Not wholly; it has become a habit with me. I am always the first one
out in the morning, and it will be an hour yet before breakfast is served.
However, I promised to be very frank with you, did I not? Then I will
begin now; this morning I really hoped I might see you for a moment
before the others were stirring--we