"The young canting rascals!" he exclaimed, wiping the perspiration fromhis forehead; "I would sooner see you in your grave, my girl, than thewife of either of them."
"And so should I, father," she answered, with spirit; "but Jeffersonwill soon be here."
"Yes. It will not be long before he comes. The sooner the better, for wedo not know what their next move may be."
It was, indeed, high time that someone capable of giving advice andhelp should come to the aid of the sturdy old farmer and his adopteddaughter. In the whole history of the settlement there had never beensuch a case of rank disobedience to the authority of the Elders. Ifminor errors were punished so sternly, what would be the fate of thisarch rebel. Ferrier knew that his wealth and position would be of noavail to him. Others as well known and as rich as himself had beenspirited away before now, and their goods given over to the Church. Hewas a brave man, but he trembled at the vague, shadowy terrors whichhung over him. Any known danger he could face with a firm lip, butthis suspense was unnerving. He concealed his fears from his daughter,however, and affected to make light of the whole matter, though she,with the keen eye of love, saw plainly that he was ill at ease.
He expected that he would receive some message or remonstrance fromYoung as to his conduct, and he was not mistaken, though it came in anunlooked-for manner. Upon rising next morning he found, to his surprise,a small square of paper pinned on to the coverlet of his bed just overhis chest. On it was printed, in bold straggling letters:--
"Twenty-nine days are given you for amendment, and then----"
The dash was more fear-inspiring than any threat could have been. Howthis warning came into his room puzzled John Ferrier sorely, for hisservants slept in an outhouse, and the doors and windows had all beensecured. He crumpled the paper up and said nothing to his daughter, butthe incident struck a chill into his heart. The twenty-nine days wereevidently the balance of the month which Young had promised. Whatstrength or courage could avail against an enemy armed with suchmysterious powers? The hand which fastened that pin might have struckhim to the heart, and he could never have known who had slain him.
Still more shaken was he next morning. They had sat down to theirbreakfast when Lucy with a cry of surprise pointed upwards. In thecentre of the ceiling was scrawled, with a burned stick apparently,the number 28. To his daughter it was unintelligible, and he did notenlighten her. That night he sat up with his gun and kept watch andward. He saw and he heard nothing, and yet in the morning a great 27 hadbeen painted upon the outside of his door.
Thus day followed day; and as sure as morning came he found that hisunseen enemies had kept their register, and had marked up in someconspicuous position how many days were still left to him out of themonth of grace. Sometimes the fatal numbers appeared upon the walls,sometimes upon the floors, occasionally they were on small placardsstuck upon the garden gate or the railings. With all his vigilance JohnFerrier could not discover whence these daily warnings proceeded. Ahorror which was almost superstitious came upon him at the sight ofthem. He became haggard and restless, and his eyes had the troubled lookof some hunted creature. He had but one hope in life now, and that wasfor the arrival of the young hunter from Nevada.
Twenty had changed to fifteen and fifteen to ten, but there was no newsof the absentee. One by one the numbers dwindled down, and still therecame no sign of him. Whenever a horseman clattered down the road, or adriver shouted at his team, the old farmer hurried to the gate thinkingthat help had arrived at last. At last, when he saw five give way tofour and that again to three, he lost heart, and abandoned all hope ofescape. Single-handed, and with his limited knowledge of the mountainswhich surrounded the settlement, he knew that he was powerless. Themore-frequented roads were strictly watched and guarded, and none couldpass along them without an order from the Council. Turn which way hewould, there appeared to be no avoiding the blow which hung over him.Yet the old man never wavered in his resolution to part with life itselfbefore he consented to what he regarded as his daughter's dishonour.
He was sitting alone one evening pondering deeply over his troubles, andsearching vainly for some way out of them. That morning had shown thefigure 2 upon the wall of his house, and the next day would be the lastof the allotted time. What was to happen then? All manner of vague andterrible fancies filled his imagination. And his daughter--what was tobecome of her after he was gone? Was there no escape from the invisiblenetwork which was drawn all round them. He sank his head upon the tableand sobbed at
the thought of his own impotence.
What was that? In the silence he heard a gentle scratching sound--low,but very distinct in the quiet of the night. It came from the door ofthe house. Ferrier crept into the hall and listened intently. Therewas a pause for a few moments, and then the low insidious sound wasrepeated. Someone was evidently tapping very gently upon one of thepanels of the door. Was it some midnight assassin who had come to carryout the murderous orders of the secret tribunal? Or was it some agentwho was marking up that the last day of grace had arrived. John Ferrierfelt that instant death would be better than the suspense which shookhis nerves and chilled his heart. Springing forward he drew the bolt andthrew the door open.
Outside all was calm and quiet. The night was fine, and the stars weretwinkling brightly overhead. The little front garden lay before thefarmer's eyes bounded by the fence and gate, but neither there nor onthe road was any human being to be seen. With a sigh of relief, Ferrierlooked to right and to left, until happening to glance straight down athis own feet he saw to his astonishment a man lying flat upon his faceupon the ground, with arms and legs all asprawl.
So unnerved was he at the sight that he leaned up against the wall withhis hand to his throat to stifle his inclination to call out. His firstthought was that the prostrate figure was that of some wounded or dyingman, but as he watched it he saw it writhe along the ground and into thehall with the rapidity and noiselessness of a serpent. Once within thehouse the man sprang to his feet, closed the door, and revealed to theastonished farmer the fierce face and resolute expression of JeffersonHope.
"Good God!" gasped John Ferrier. "How you scared me! Whatever made youcome in like that."
"Give me food," the other said, hoarsely. "I have had no time for biteor sup for eight-and-forty hours." He flung himself upon the [21] coldmeat and bread which were still lying upon the table from his host'ssupper, and devoured it voraciously. "Does Lucy bear up well?" he asked,when he had satisfied his hunger.
"Yes. She does not know the danger," her father answered.
"That is well. The house is watched on every side. That is why I crawledmy way up to it. They may be darned sharp, but they're not quite sharpenough to catch a Washoe hunter."
John Ferrier felt a different man now that he realized that he hada devoted ally. He seized the young man's leathery hand and wrung itcordially. "You're a man to be proud of," he said. "There are not manywho would come to share our danger and our troubles."
"You've hit it there, pard," the young hunter answered. "I have arespect for you, but if you were alone in this business I'd think twicebefore I put my head into such a hornet's nest. It's Lucy that brings mehere, and before harm comes on her I guess there will be one less o' theHope family in Utah."
"What are we to do?"
"To-morrow is your last day, and unless you act to-night you are lost.I have a mule and two horses waiting in the Eagle Ravine. How much moneyhave you?"
"Two thousand dollars in gold, and five in notes."
"That will do. I have as much more to add to it. We must push for CarsonCity through the mountains. You had best wake Lucy. It is as well thatthe servants do not sleep in the house."
While Ferrier was absent, preparing his daughter for the approachingjourney, Jefferson Hope packed all the eatables that he could find intoa small parcel, and filled a stoneware jar with water, for he knew byexperience that the mountain wells were few and far between. He hadhardly completed his arrangements before the farmer returned with hisdaughter all dressed and ready for a start. The greeting between thelovers was warm, but brief, for minutes were precious, and there wasmuch to be done.
"We must make our start at once," said Jefferson Hope, speaking in a lowbut resolute voice, like one who realizes the greatness of the peril,but has steeled his heart to meet it. "The front and back entrances arewatched, but with caution we may get away through the side window andacross the fields. Once on the road we are only two miles from theRavine where the horses are waiting. By daybreak we should be half-waythrough the mountains."
"What if we are stopped," asked Ferrier.
Hope slapped the revolver butt which protruded from the front of histunic. "If they are too many for us we shall take two or three of themwith us," he said with a sinister smile.
The lights inside the house had all been extinguished, and from thedarkened window Ferrier peered over the fields which had been his own,and which he was now about to abandon for ever. He had long nervedhimself to the sacrifice, however, and the thought of the honour andhappiness of his daughter outweighed any regret at his ruined fortunes.All looked so peaceful and happy, the rustling trees and the broadsilent stretch of grain-land, that it was difficult to realize thatthe spirit of murder lurked through it all. Yet the white face and setexpression of the young hunter showed that in his approach to the househe had seen enough to satisfy him upon that head.