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Updated: June 1, 2025
Within twenty seconds he could have Kedsty looking down the barrel of it. The night was ideal for escape. Within half an hour they would be on the river. They could even load up with provisions from Kedsty's place. He opened the door a little more, scarcely making an effort to combat the impulse that dragged him out.
Even then his impulse was to stagger toward the inanimate Mercer and kick him, but hands caught him and held him. He heard an amazed voice, then another and something hard and cold shut round his wrists like a pair of toothless jaws. It was Constable Carter, Inspector Kedsty's right-hand man about barracks, that he saw first; then old Sands, the caretaker at Cardigan's place.
"But it is not so good as the fifth night from now will be," she said, resuming the task of drying her hair. "On that night you may go to the river. Our plans were a little upset, you know, by Inspector Kedsty's change in the date on which you were to leave for Edmonton. Arrangements have been made so that on the fifth night you may leave safely." "And you?" "I shall remain here."
Usually he was at the barracks an hour or so earlier. Kent made no effort to figure out a reason for Kedsty's lateness, but he did observe that after his arrival there was more than the usual movement between the office door and the outside of the barracks. Once he was positive that he heard Cardigan's voice, and then he was equally sure that he heard Mercer's. He grinned at that.
His thought was of Marette, of the fate which dawn and discovery would bring for her. His hands clenched and his jaws tightened. The world was against him, and tomorrow it would be against her. Only he, in the face of all that condemning evidence in the room beyond, would disbelieve her guilty of Kedsty's death. And he, Jim Kent, was already a murderer in the eyes of the law.
He had expected that the mention of Inspector Kedsty's name would disturb her. It had no effect that he could perceive. "O'Connor was the big, red-faced man with Mr. Kedsty?" "Yes, my trail partner. He came to me yesterday and raved about your eyes. They ARE beautiful; I've never seen eyes half so lovely. But that wasn't what struck Bucky so hard. It was the effect they had on Kedsty.
"Jeems when we are safe when we are sure the Police won't find us I will tell you all that I know about what happened in Kedsty's room. And I will tell you about the hair. I will tell you everything." Her fingers tightened almost fiercely. "Everything," she repeated. "I will tell you about that in Kedsty's room and I will tell you about myself and after that I am afraid you won't like me."
"Lord!" he breathed in a whisper. "I have said a lot in a short time, haven't I? But it isn't a hundredth part of what I want to get out of my system. I won't ask the million questions that want to be asked. But I must know why we are here. Why have we come to Kedsty's? Why didn't we make for the river? There couldn't be a better night to get away."
In the hall below she was waiting, when he came down, with Kedsty's big rubber slicker in her hands. "You must put it on," she said. She shuddered slightly as she held the garment.
And Kent reached up, and took the hand, and held it close in his own, as he said, "Little Gray Goose, please tell me now what happened in Kedsty's room?" His voice thrilled with an immeasurable faith. He wanted her to know, no matter what had happened, that this faith and his love for her could not be shaken. He believed in her, and would always believe in her.
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