The jailer
was highly excited.
"I've got word--but no note!" he whispered hoarsely. "Quick! Is it
worth--"
"Yes! Yes!"
Nathaniel dug the gold pieces out of his pockets and dropped them into
the jailer's outstretched hand.
"I've had my boy watching Winnsome Croche's house," continued the
sheriff, white with the knowledge of the risk he was taking. "An hour
ago Winnsome came out of the house and went into the woods. My boy
followed. She ran to the lake, got into a skiff, and rowed straight out
to sea. She is following your instructions!"
In his excitement he betrayed himself. He had read the note.
There came a sound up the corridor, the opening of a door, the echo of
voices, and Jeekum leaped back. Nathaniel's foot held the cell door
from closing.
"Where is Marion?" he cried softly, his heart standing still with dread.
"Great God--what about Marion?"
For an instant the sheriff's ghastly face was pressed against the
opening.
"Marion has not been seen since morning. The king's officers are
searching for her."
The door slammed, the chains clanked loudly, and above the sound of
Jeekum's departure Neil's voice rose in a muffled cry of joy.
"They are gone! They are leaving the island!"
Nathaniel stood like one turned into stone. His heart grew cold within
him. When he spoke his words were passionless echoes of what had been.
"You are sure that Marion would kill herself as soon as she became the
wife of Strang?" he asked.
"Yes--before his vile hands touched more than the dress she wore!"
shouted Neil.
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