What absurd impulse fired his blood at this sudden familiarity, Dan did not know; but, quite spontaneously, as though all his life he had been in the habit of paying such gallantries to charming ladies, he kissed the soft fingers upon his lips. Madame de la Fontaine quickly withdrew them.

"Ah, _mon ami_;" she said, "I expected not to find here _une telle galanterie_."

"I have offended you," murmured Dan, blushing furiously.

"Ah, _pas du tout_!" said Madame de la Fontaine. "You are a dear boy, monsieur Dan, and I--well, I find you charming."

As she said this, to Dan's complete confusion, Madame de la Fontaine lightly brushed his cheeks with her lips, and pa.s.sing him rapidly, went out of the door of the saloon.

CHAPTER XII

TOM TURNS THE TABLES

Owing to his long watch during the greater part of the night, Pembroke slept heavily until late the next morning. Indeed, he did not waken until Jesse, alarmed that neither Dan nor he had appeared, knocked on their door. He sprang up quickly then, and began to dress hastily. Dan's bed had not been slept in, and Tom wondered how the night had gone with him.

In a few moments he was down stairs and in the breakfast-room. He found the Marquis de Boisdhyver already at table, pouring out his coffee, which Deborah had just placed before him. Mrs. Frost had not appeared.

Tom murmured an apology for being late, and delayed the black woman, who was on the point of leaving the room, by a question.

"Where is Mr. Dan?"

"Sure an, Ma.s.s' Tom, I ain't seen him dis mornin' yet. Ain't he done over-slept hisself like you?"

"No; but I dare say he is about the place somewheres. All right, Deb; bring my breakfast quickly, please."

"You will pardon me," said Monsieur de Boisdhyver, "for having begun without you?"

"Oh, certainly," said Tom; "Don't know what was the matter, but I slept unusually soundly last night; that is, after I got to sleep, for the storm kept me awake for hours."

"_Et moi aussi_," said the Marquis. "What wind! I am but thankful it has exhausted itself at last. And Monsieur Frost, he has also over-slept, you say?"

"No. He got up early without disturbing me. I guess he will be in any minute now."

The Marquis stirred his coffee and slowly sipped it.

Tom made a hasty breakfast, and then went outside to reconnoitre. He discovered no trace of his friend. There was but one inference in his uneasy mind: Dan had met with some misadventure at the House on the Dunes. At last, after wandering about aimlessly for some time, he decided to tell Jesse of his uneasiness.

"If Mr. Dan is not back by dinner time, I shall go over to the House on the Dunes and try to find out what has become of him. Heaven knows what has become of Miss Nancy. I don't like that schooner, Jess, and its ugly crew, lying there in the Cove. It's all a darn queer business."

"They're certainly a rough-looking lot, Mr. Tom, as I saw when I was on the beach yesterday. And she don't appear to have any particular business anchoring there. I hope they've nothing to do with Miss Nancy's and Mr.

Dan's being away."

"I don't know, Jess, what to think. But listen here I want you to go into the Port this morning and engage Ezra Manners to come out here and stay with us for a week or so. Don't tell him too much, but I guess Ezra won't balk at the notion of a sc.r.a.p. Bring him out with you, and offer to pay him enough to make sure of his coming. And I want you to go to Breeze's on the Parade and get some guns and powder, enough to arm every blessed soul of us in the Inn. Charge the stuff to me. And be careful how you bring it back, for I don't want any one here to know about it, particularly the old Frenchman. Understand? You ought to get back by dinner-time, if you start at once. I'll stay here till you return."

"I'll start right off, sir. Guess I'll have to drive, for the rain'll have washed the snow off the roads. I'll be back by halfpast twelve, Mr. Tom."

"All right," said Pembroke. "Be sure not to let any one know what you are doing."

"Sure I won't, sir. I've been pretty much worried myself about Miss Nancy. Didn't seem a bit like Miss Nance to go off without sayin' a word to anybody.

"Well, hurry along now, Jesse."

"Yes, sir."

Tom's next task was to try to explain to Mrs. Frost without alarming her.

She happily jumped to the idea that Dan had gotten trace of Nancy, had gone to fetch her, and would return with her before nightfall. So Tom left her quite cheerfully knitting in her room for the day.

From time to time during the morning Tom wandered into the bar always to find Monsieur de Boisdhyver absorbed in his writing before the fire. The morning pa.s.sed--a long restless morning for Pembroke--and nothing had happened. Dan had not returned. He tried to think out a plan of action.

He went into the north wing of the Inn and barricaded the door leading from the bowling alley into the hallway. He made sure that all other doors and windows were fastened, and he put the key of the door that opened from the bar into the old wing into his pocket. Then he looked at the doors and windows in the south wing.

About noon, as he was standing at an upper window anxiously scanning the landscape for any sign of his friend, Tom saw the Marquis, wrapped in his great black cloak, emerge from the gallery, go down the steps by the Red Oak, and walk rapidly down the avenue of maples. He went along the Port Road, to the point where a little road branched off and led to the beach of the Cove; here he turned and walked in the direction of the beach.

With the field gla.s.s Tom could follow him quite easily as he picked his way through the slush.

Beyond, on the waters of the Cove, the _Southern Cross_ rode at anchor. A small boat had put off from the schooner, two seamen at the oars, and a woman seated in the stern. The boat reached the sh.o.r.e, the lady was lifted out upon the sands, the men jumped in again, pushed off and rowed briskly back to the schooner. Tom could not distinguish the lady's features, but from the style of her dress, cut in so different a fashion than that the ladies of Caesarea were wont to display, and from the character of her easy graceful walk, he judged that that was the Madame de la Fontaine, of whom Dan had told him the day before. The lady, whoever she might be, advanced along the beach and turned into the road down which the Marquis de Boisdhyver was going to meet her. Tom could see her extend her hand, and the old gentleman, bending ceremoniously, lift it to his lips. Then leaning against a stone wall beside a meadow of bedraggled snow, they engaged in animated conversation. The lady talked, the Marquis talked. They shrugged their shoulders, they nodded their heads, they pointed this way and then that. Poor Tom felt he must know what was being said. At last, their conference ended, they parted as ceremoniously as they had met, the lady starting across the Dunes and the Marquis retracing his steps toward the Inn.

In the meantime, fortunately before the Marquis reached the Port Road, Jesse had returned, accompanied by the able-bodied Ezra Manners, and laden with the supply of arms and ammunition that Pembroke had ordered.

Within half-an-hour Tom and Monsieur de Boisdhyver were seated together in the dining-room.

"Ah, and where is Monsieur Dan?" asked the Marquis, with an affectation of cheerfulness. "Is he not returned?"

"Not yet, monsieur," Tom replied grimly.

"But you have heard from him?"

"Oh, yes," was Tom's answer; "I have heard from him of course."

"And from Mademoiselle Nancy, I trust, also?"

"Yes, from Nancy also."

"Ah, I am so relieved, Monsieur Pembroke. I was most anxious for their safety. One knows not what may happen. We shall have a charming little reunion at supper, _n'est-ce pas_?"

"Delightful," said Tom, but in a tone of voice that did not encourage the Marquis to ask further questions or to continue his comments.

After dinner, Tom slipped the field gla.s.s beneath his jacket, and ran upstairs to take another view of the countryside. To his great satisfaction he saw a dark spot moving across the snowy dunes and recognized the lady of the morning. Apparently she was on her way to the Cove again.

He took a loaded pistol, ran down stairs, gave Jesse strict orders to keep his eye on the Marquis, saddled his horse, and galloped off madly for Mrs. Meath's house.

When he reached the gate of the farmhouse, Tom hitched his horse to the fence, went rapidly up the little walk, and knocked boldly and loudly on the front door. Repeated and prolonged knocking brought no response. He tried the door and found it fastened. He walked about the house. Every window on the ground floor was tightly closed and barred. There was no sign of life. He knocked at the door of the kitchen, but with no result.

He tried it, and found it also locked. Determined not to be thwarted in his effort to see Mrs. Meath, he kicked vigourously against the door with his great hob-nailed boots. Unsuccessful in this, he detached a rail from the top of the fence and used it against the door as a battering-ram. At the first crash of timbers, the sash of a window in the second story, directly above the kitchen, was thrown open, and a dark-eyed, dark-haired, excessively angry-looking, young woman thrust her head out.

"_Qui va la_?" she exclaimed.

"Well," said Tom, smiling a little in spite of himself, for the young woman was in a state of great indignation. "I want to see Mrs. Meath. I may say, I am determined to see Mrs. Meath."