the white moll-第39部分

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menaced　her　was　a　traffic　block　that　would　cause　her　to　stop；　and
allow　those　in　the　other　car　behind　to　rush　in　upon　her　as　she　sat
here　at　the　wheel。　　And　sooner　or　later；　if　she　stayed　in　the　city；
a　block　such　as　that　was　inevitable。　　She　must　get　out　of　the　city；
then。　　It　was　only　to　invite　another　risk；　the　risk　that　Danglar
was　in　the　faster　car　of　the　two　　　but　there　was　no　other　way。

She　drove　more　quickly；　made　her　way　to　the　Bridge；　and　crossed　it。
The　car　behind　followed　with　immutable　persistence。　　It　made　no
effort　to　close　the　short　gap　between　them；　but；　neither；　on　the
other　hand；　did　it　permit　that　gap　to　widen。

They　passed　through　Brooklyn；　and　then；　reaching　the　outskirts；
Rhoda　Gray；　with　headlights　streaming　into　the　black；　with　an　open
Long　Island　road　before　her；　flung　her　throttle　wide；　and　the　car
leaped　like　a　thing　of　life　into　the　night。　　It　was　a　sudden　start；
it　gained　her　a　hundred　yards　but　that　was　all。

The　wind　tore　at　her　and　whipped　her　face；　the　car　rocked　and　reeled
as　in　some　mad　frenzy。　　There　was　not　much　traffic；　but　such　as
there　was　it　cleared　away　from　before　her　as　if　by　magic；　as；
seeking　shelter　from　the　wild　meteoric　thing　running　amuck；　the　few
vehicles；　motor　or　horse；　that　she　encountered　hugged；　the　edge　of
the　road；　and　the　wind　whisked　to　her　ears　fragments　of　shouts　and
execrations。　　Again　and　again　she　looked　back　　　two　fiery　balls　of
light　blazed　behind　her　always　those　same　two　fiery　balls。

She　neither　gained　nor　lost。　　Rigid；　like　steel；　her　little　figure
was　crouched　over　the　wheel。　　She　did　not　know　the　road。　　She　knew
nothing　save　that　she　was　racing　for　her　life。　　She　did　not　know
the　end；　she　could　not　see　the　end。　　Perhaps　there　would　be　some
merciful　piece　of　luck　for　her　that　would　win　her　through　　　a
break…down　to　that　roaring　thing；　with　its　eyes　that　were　balls　of
fire；　behind。

She　passed　through　a　town　with　lighted　streets　and　lighted　windows
　　or　was　it　only　imagination？　　It　was　gone　again；　anyhow；　and　there
was　just　black　road　ahead。　　Over　the　roar　of　the　car　and　the　sweep
of　the　wind；　then；　she　caught；　or　fancied　she　caught；　a　series
of　faint　reports。　　She　looked　behind　her。　　Yes；　they　were　firing
now。　　Little　flashes　leaped　out　above　and　at　the　sides　of　those
blazing　headlights。

How　long　was　it　since　she　had　left　the　Silver　Sphinx？　　Minutes　or
hours　would　not　measure　it；　would　they？　　But　it　could　not　last　much
longer！　She　was　growing　very　tired；　the　strain　upon　her　arms；　yes；
and　upon　her　eyes；　was　becoming　unbearable。　　She　swayed　a　little
in　her　seat；　and　the　car　swerved；　and　she　jerked　it　back　again　into
the　straight。　　She　began　to　laugh　a　little　hysterically　　　and　then；
suddenly；　she　straightened　up；　tense　and　alert　once　more。

That　swerve　was　the　germ　of　an　inspiration！　　It　took　root　swiftly
now。　　It　was　desperate　…　but　she　was　desperate。　　She　could　not　drive
much　more；　or　much　longer　like　this。　　Mind　and　body　were　almost
undone。　　And；　besides；　she　was　not　outdistancing　that　car　behind
there　by　a　foot；　and　sooner　or　later　they　would　hit　her　with　one　of
their　shots；　or；　perhaps　what　they　were　really　trying　to　do；
puncture　one　of　her　tires。

Again　she　glanced　over　her　shoulder。　　Yes；　Danglar　was　just　far
enough　behind　to　make　the　plan　possible。　　She　began　to　allow　the
car　to　swerve　noticeably　at　intervals；　as　though　she　were　weakening
and　the　car　was　getting　beyond　her　control　…　which　was；　indeed；
almost　too　literally　the　case。　　And　now　it　seemed　to　her　that　each
time　she　swerved　there　came　an　exultant　shout　from　the　car　behind。
Well；　she　asked　for　nothing　better；　that　was　what　she　was　trying　to
do；　wasn't　it？　…　inspire　them　with　the　belief　that　she　was　breaking
under　the　strain。

Her　eyes　searched　anxiously　down　the　luminous　pathway　made　by　her
high…powered　headlights。　　If　only　she　could　reach　a　piece　of　road
that　combined　two　things　…　an　embankment　of　some　sort；　and　a　curve
just　sharp　enough　to　throw　those　headlights　behind　off　at　a　tangent
for　an　instant　as　they　rounded　it；　too；　in　following　her。

A　minute；　two；　another　passed。　　And　then　Rhoda　Gray；　tight…lipped；
her　face　drawn　hard；　as　her　own　headlights　suddenly　edged　away　from
the　road　and　opened　what　looked　like　a　deep　ravine　on　her　left；
while　the　road　curved　to　the　right；　flung　a　frenzied　glance　back
of　her。　　It　was　her　chance　…　her　one　chance。　　Danglar　was　perhaps
a　little　more　than　a　hundred　yards　in　the　rear。　　Yes　…　now！　　His
headlights　were　streaming　out　on　her　left　as　he；　too；　touched　the
curve。　　The　right…hand　side　of　her　car；　the　right…hand　side　of　the
road　were　in　blackness。　　She　checked　violently；　almost　to　a　stop；
then　instantly　opened　the　throttle　wide　once　more；　wrenching　the
wheel　over　to　head　the　machine　for　the　ravine；　and　before　the　car
picked　up　its　momentum　again；　she　dropped　from　the　right…hand　side；
darted　to　the　far　edge　of　the　road；　and　flung　herself　flat　down
upon　the　ground。

The　great；　black　body　of　her　car　seemed　to　sail　out　into　nothingness
like　some　weird　aerial　monster；　the　headlights　streaming　uncannily
through　space　…　then　blackness　…　and　a　terrific　crash。

And　now　the　other　car　had　come　to　a　stop　almost　opposite　where　she
lay。　　Danglar　and　the　two　chauffeurs；　shouting　at　each　other　in
wild　excitement；　leaped　out　and　rushed　to　the　edge　of　the　embankment。
And　then　suddenly　the　sky　grew　red　as　a　great　tongue…flame　shot　up
from　below。　　It　outlined　the　forms　of　the　three　men　as　they　stood
there；　until；　abruptly；　as　though　with　one　accord；　they　rushed
pell…mell　down　the　embankment　toward　the　burning　wreckage。　　And　as
they　disappeared　from　sight　Rhoda　Gray　jumped　to　her　feet；　sprang
for　Danglar's　car；　flung　herself　into　the　driver's　seat；　and　the　car
shot　forward　again　along　the　road。

A　shout；　a　wild　chorus　of　yells；　the　reports　of　a　fusillade　of
shots　reached　her；　she　caught　a　glimpse　of　forms　running　insanely
after　her　along　the　edge　of　the　embankment　…　then　silence　save　for
the　roar　of　the　speeding　car。

She　drove　on　and　on。　　Somewhere；　nearing　a　town；　she　saw　a　train
in　the　distance　coming　in　her　direction。　　She　reached　the　station
first；　and　left　the　car　standing　there；　and；　with　the　torn　veil
over　her　face　again；　took　the　train。

She　was　weak；　undone；　exhausted。　　Even　her　mind　refused　its
functions　further。　　It　was　only　in　a　subconscious　way　she　realized
that；　where　she　had　thought　never　to　go　to　the　garret　again；　the
garret　and　the　role　of　Gypsy　Nan　were；　more　than　ever　now；　her　sole
refuge。　　The　plot　against　Cloran　had　failed；　but　they　could　not
blame　that　on　〃Bertha's〃　non…appearance；　and　since　it　had　failed
she　would　not　now　be　expected　to　assume　the　dead　woman's　personality。
True；　she　had　not；　as　had　been　arranged；　reached　the　Silver　Sphinx
at　eleven；　but　there　were　a　hundred　excuses　she　could　give　to
account　for　her　being　late　in　keeping　the　appointment　so　that　she
had　arrived　just　in　time；　say；　to　see　Danglar　dash　wildly　in　pursuit
of　a　woman　who　had　jumped　into　the　car　that　she　was　supposed　to　take！

The　garret！　　The　garret　again　…　and　Gypsy　Nan！　　Her　surroundings
seemed　to　become　a　blank　to　her；　her　actions　to　be　prompted　by　some
purely　mechanical　sense。　　She　was　conscious　only　that　finally；　after
an　interminable　time；　she　was　in　New　York　again；　and　after　that；
long；　long　after　that；　dressed　as　Gypsy　Nan；　she　was　stumbling　up
the　dark；　ladder…like　steps　to　the　attic。

How　her　footsteps　dragged！　　She　opened　the　door；　staggered　inside；
locked　the　door　again；　and　staggered　toward　the　cot；　and　dropped
upon　it；　and　the　gray　dawn　came　in　with　niggardly　light　through
the　grimy　little　window　panes；　as　though　timorously　inquisitive
of　this　shawled　and　dissolute　figure　prone　and　motionless；　this
figure　who　in　other　dawns　had　found　neither　sleep　nor　rest　…　this
figure　who　lay　there　now　as　one　dead。


XVIII。　　THE　OLD　SHED

Rhoda　Gray　opened　her　eyes；　and；　from　the　cot　upon　which　she　lay；
stared　with　drowsy　curiosity　around　the　garret　…　and　in　another
instant　was　sitting　bolt　upright；　alert　and　tense；　as　the　full　flood
of　memory　swept　upon　her。

There　was　still　a　meager　light　creeping　in　through　the　small；　grimy
window　panes；　but　it　was　the　light　of　waning　day。　　She　must　have
slept；　then；　all　through　the　morning　and　the　afternoon；　slept　the
dead；　heavy　sleep　of　exhaustion　from　the　moment　she　had　flung
herself　down　here　a　few　hours　before　daybreak。

She　rose　impulsively　to　her　feet。　　It　was　strange　that　she　had　not
been　disturbed；　that　no　one　had　come　to　the　garret！　　The　recollection
of　the　events　of　the　night　before　were　crowding　themselves　upon　her
now。　　In　view　of　last　night；　in　view　of　her　failure　to　keep　that
appointment　in　the　role　of　Danglar's　wife；　it　was　very　strange
indeed　that　she　had　been　left　undisturbed！

Subconsciously　she　was　aware　that　she　was　hungry；　that　it　was　long
since　she　had　eaten；　and；　almost　mechanically；　she　prepared　herself
something　now　from　the　store　the　garret　possessed；　but；　even　as　she
ate；　her　mind　was　far　from　thoughts　of　food。　　From　the　first　night
she　had　come　here　and　self…preservation　had　thrust　this　miserable
role　of　Gypsy　Nan　upon　her；　from　that　first　night　and　from　the
following　night　when；　to　save　the　Sparrow；　she　had　been　whirled
into　the　vortex　of　the　gang's　criminal　activities；　her　mind　raced
on　through　the　sequence　of　events　that　seemed　to　have　spanned　some
vast；　immeasurable　space　of　time　until　they　had　brought　her　to
…　last　night。

Last　night！　　She　had　thought　it　was　the　end　last　night；　but　instead
…　　The　dark　eyes　grew　suddenly　hard　and　intent。　　Yes；　she　had
counted　upon　last　night；　when；　with　the　necessary　proof　in　her
possession　with　which　to　confront　Danglar　with　the　crime　of　murder；
she　could　wring　from　the　man　all　that　now　remained　necessary　to
substantiate　her　own　story　and　clear　herself　in　the　eyes　of　the　law
of　that　robbery　at　Skarbolov's　antique　store　of　which　she　was　held
guilty　…　and　instead　she　had　barely　escaped　with　her　life。　　That
was　the　story　of　last　night。

Her　eyes　grew　harder。　　Well；　the　way　was　still　open；　wasn't　it？
Last　night　had　changed　nothing　in　that　respect。　　To…night；　as　the
White　Moll；　she　had　only　to　find　and