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They never exchanged more words and looks than were absolutely necessary. Vance realized it more than ever as he looked up to the tall athletic figure. And he realized also that since he had last looked closely at Terence the latter had slipped out of boyhood and into manhood.
'Hands up! I cry, thus, and very fierce. "And if they do not hold up their hands?" he appealed to Jacob Welse. "Then shoot. Never bluff when you're behind a gun, Courbertin. It's held by good authorities to be unhealthy." "And you are to take charge of La Bijou, Vance," Frona said. "Father thinks there will be little ice to-morrow if it doesn't jam to-night.
It was so clear and sure had been lying in the background all along. One word contained it: Vance. The sinister intentions of this man, forgotten in the rush of other emotions, asserted themselves again convincingly. The human horror, so easily comprehensible, had been smothered for the time by the hint of unearthly revelations. But it had operated all the time. Now it took the lead.
The dispatches were for the president of the late court at Camp Cooke, for Turnbull, for Loring and for himself. Sending the courier to camp, he tore open his order a brief letter of instructions to furnish such escort as might be deemed sufficient for the safe conduct of Lieutenant-Colonels Vance and Turnbull to Tucson. Then he waited to hear from them.
Vance set out for the spinney and cottage; they were not to be found nobody had ever heard of them. He continued his travels, and some months later, at a loan collection of pictures in a gallery in Edinburgh, he came to an abrupt a very abrupt halt, before the portrait of a gentleman in ancient costume.
Vance as long as she still lived in Seventy-eighth Street, but when she was compelled to move into Thirteenth, her fear that the latter would take it as an indication of reduced circumstances caused her to study some way of avoiding the necessity of giving her address. Not finding any convenient method, she sorrowfully resigned the privilege of writing to her friend entirely.
She was actually pale. "Oh, there's Dolly Haight!" cried Henrietta Vance as the door bell rang. They all rushed to the door, running and scrambling, eager to tell the news. Young Haight stood bewildered on the door mat in the vestibule, his arms full of brown-paper packages, while they recounted the marvel.
"That means thousands of dollars to you and Vance," he urged. The girl turned and regarded him with unhappy, angry eyes. "You need not be frightened," she answered. For the man before her and for herself, her voice was bitter with contempt and self-accusation. "Mr. Winthrop is mistaken. He does not know me," she said miserably. "I shall not fail."
Vance nodded and, waiting until from the back room he heard the voices of Mannie and Winthrop, he opened the front door and the two men ran down the steps into the street. While the conspirators were hidden in the vestibule, Mannie had opened the folding doors, and invited Winthrop to enter the reception parlor. "Miss Vera will be down in a minute," he said.
Vance left the man lying on the beach, and advanced more cautiously. He had crossed the line and was in the charmed circle. Like an Indian on a trail he crawled forward, and, regardless of peril, approached quite close to the working party. Just above the water-line was a wall of rock, and built upon the rock was a small house, and into this house the goods were carried.
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