The Red Signal (Grace Livingston Hill Book) (8 page)

Hilda saw, even as she turned, one of the men creeping up through the bushes, coming up the garden path from the back. They were returning. She drew another sigh of relief! Perhaps she had been wrong. This was not the day for the plot to be carried out. They were only preparing so that they might be ready when their orders came. She would wait until dark and then would steal away. The express train had passed over. All was safe enough. She could be more sure of getting away without being caught if she waited until night. With relief she hurried to put the dishes on the table. The men came in, all but Heinrich, stopping at the pump to wash and joke much as they often did. Hilda tried to stop the ears of her consciousness to their words, for so often their jokes were unspeakably distasteful to her.

 The men were jolly, with an appearance of having finished a hard task. At last Heinrich came in and clapped Mrs. Schwarz on the shoulder.

“Well, mother,” he said in German, “take a good look at the old bridge. She hasn't many hours to live. We've got her fixed. When the two o'clock freight comes down you'll see her climbing up the golden stairs!”

The other men swarmed in and took their seats noisily, happily, as if some great feat had been accomplished.

Something gripped Hilda's heart like a vise. Her face turned white and her eyes turned wildly to the clock. She was glad the last dish was carried in and she was out in the kitchen where they could not see her. She felt her senses reeling as if she could not trust them. The two o'clock freight! And it was five minutes of one now!

He was on it! He was running it! He would not know! He would come along just as usual, with his dark curly head stuck out of the window, and blow his signals for her. They would echo along the valley with that joyous call that set her heart to thrilling and made her cheeks grow warm, and then the engine would leap out upon the bridge, and—it would happen! The horrible thing would happen! It would all be over in a minute, perhaps before the whistle had stopped echoing among the hills. There would be no train, perhaps not even fragments. There would be no more bridge, only ruins! They would find his cap somewhere, miles away! They would never find him! Her one friend would be gone! He would never whistle to her any more! He would be gone! Germany had done this! Germany meant to do it! Planned to do it! Germany did not care for hundred of lives lost and ruined bridges and unspeakable horrors. Germany deliberately did it! Germany had planned to kill him as if he had been an insect that did not matter! She bowed her head into her trembling hands for a moment and a great shudder passed over her.

And he had saved her life once! Must she, could she, let this awful thing happen to him?

 She lifted her face with a great resolve. There was strength in her whole body as she threw back her clenched hands and raised her chest. She had been weak, but now she would be strong. She had waited fatally, but it should not be too long! She would do something now! She would fly somewhere and send him word; even if she failed she could rush in front of the train and flag it and tell him the truth. But she must not risk its corning to that. There must be some way to get him word. Would he have left Platt's Crossing yet? The telephone down in the barn! Could she get him before he left?

She glanced at the clock again. Just ten minutes before his train was due to start. She looked into the dining-room. Everybody was eating, laughing and talking, except Schwarz. He was sullen still. He had not found the paper.

She stole to the kitchen door with the broom as if she were about to sweep the porch, and slipping out waited to see if her going had been noticed. Then she slipped quickly down the path to the barn door. If anybody got up to come into the kitchen. they would see her straight through the door and down the path. Her feet fairly had wings. When she reached the barn she clutched the door latch and pulled with all her might, but a grim brass lock with a tiny slit of a keyhole seemed to laugh in her face like the Germans she had left behind. She looked fearfully behind her. She heard a chair creak on the bare floor and someone rise and come to the door between the kitchen and dining-room. She could see the shadow of skirts passing the door. In panic she slid around the side of the barn. Then the thought of the precious ten minutes going clutched at her throat. She must get into that barn!

THE end where she was standing was a blank wall with not even a crack through which she might look. She slipped around behind. Oh, joy! There was a short ladder reaching up to a sloping roof, and above the roof was a window, it was high, but perhaps she could reach it from the roof. There was much hay bulging from the window, but surely she could force her way around the hay somehow and get down to that telephone!

With her heart in her throat she began fearfully to climb. She had never been on a ladder before in her life, being a city girl, and at another time she would have felt it an adventure just to try to get up to the roof. But before her eyes, as she climbed was the face of the young engineer, and around her there seemed to be his strong arm supporting her for what she had to do.

 She gained the roof, but it was blistering hot, and hurt her hands .and her knees as she crept breathlessly up, slipping back distressingly every now and then. It was only by shutting her eyes and saying to herself, “I must! I must! The time is going fast!” that she at last gained the wall which held the window, and slowly, cautiously drew herself upstanding on the hot slippery peak of the roof. Could she reach the window ledge? It was high, but she put her slender hands bravely on the sill and struggled wildly in her desperation. There was one awful moment when she thought she was going to slip and fall down the roof again, and then a second when she gained a hold, and, panting, stayed a moment, but at last she struggled to the sill. There was no time to wait and gain her breath and be glad. She must creep through the hay and find a way out. She had dropped inside without thinking that perhaps there was no floor beneath her, but mercifully found it not too far for safety. A few feet from the window she found another ladder leading down into the barn, and she clambered down and stood in the darkness groping about to find the telephone. Her sense of time was gone. She felt as if she had been hours getting here, but she must try at least. She found the instrument by the light of a streak of sunshine that glanced through a crack near the front door of the barn, and clutched at the receiver eagerly, her heart beating so wildly that it seemed as if waves of heat were passing over her and smothering her. It seemed ages before a voice answered her and she could ask for the railroad station at the Junction. More eons passed before another voice responded and she could ask if she might speak to Dan Stevens, engineer on No. 5 Freight, quick!

“I don't know as I can get him. It's about time for the freight to move out now, in a minute or two!” came the brusque answer.

 “Oh, but you must! Something awful is going to happen on the railroad, and he must know about it before he leaves. Go get him quick!"

There was something in the girl's voice that made the man at the Junction rise hastily from his seat at the telephone and shout out the window:

“Say, Tom! Hold that freight! Something's up! Stevens is wanted on the 'phone! Tell him to hustle!”

Hilda heard and thrilled with hope.

 A long hot period ensued during which the dusty sweet scent of the hay mingled with her breath while her heart beat so wildly that she could hear it throb in her ears. It seemed as if all the blood in her body had gone into her head. Her senses were so keen that she could hear a distant laugh from Heinrich in the dining-room. Then came Mrs. Schwarz's voice, calling lustily, angrily, from the kitchen door:

“Hilda! Hil-dah! Now vere iss that silly girl gone at! Hil-da!”

Hot waves of impatience and fear rolled over her and left her cold and trembling. What if Mr. Schwarz should finish his dinner and come down to the barn before she could give her message? Oh, if she had but told the operator, so that someone would know! For if Schwarz found her here, and suspected what she was doing he might kill her. She had no doubt that he would not hesitate to do so if it suited his purposes. She was so far from thinking of herself that the mere matter of getting killed did not concern her in the least. She was only fearing lest she would have no opportunity to stop the disaster before it was too late. What happened to her seemed a very small matter just then. She was important only because she was the sole possessor of knowledge that was precious to the country and the railroad, and one young engineer whose life was in deadly danger.

What should she do if Schwarz did start to the barn? Wouldn't it be better to drop the telephone and get away so that she could flag the train? Oh, the eternal waiting! And she could hear the men creaking back their chairs from the table, she was sure. They would be coming in just a minute now!

Then a clear, cheery voice suddenly spoke in her ear:

“Hello! Stevens at the phone! Who is it?” Hilda's voice choked in her throat and the tears brimmed into her eyes, but she caught her breath and spoke:

“This is Hilda Lessing, the girl whose life you saved. I've found out they are going to blow up your train to-day, and the big bridge at Platt's Crossing. You mustn't take your train over the bridge! It's your train they're after because you've got some ammunition on board, they think.”

Hilda paused breathless, wondering if she had said all that was necessary, and painfully conscious of the men's voices nearing the kitchen door.

 “You don't say so!” came the startled answer of the man over the 'phone. “Well, I sure am obliged to you for giving me the tip. Are you quite sure? How do you know?”

“Yes, I'm sure. I heard them talk it all out. They don't know I understand German. They'd kill me if they found out I'd told, and I mustn't stay here. But you won't go over that bridge, will you?”

“Not till everything's all safe, little girl, don't you worry! I'll have it investigated. Say, where are you? How can I get to talk to you again? I've got to know more about this. I guess you must have found those spies I told you about.”

 “Yes,” said Hilda in a low, frightened voice, “but I can't stay to talk for I hear them coming. I don't think there is any way you could see me. I never get any time off, and they won't let me mail letters. They read them all.”

 “H'm You don't say! Well, I'll find a way to get a letter to you, don't you be afraid. You be looking for it. And you might write me one and have it ready to slip to me on the sly in a hurry. Have it with you all the time. I've got to know about this. You know, if this turns out to be real you have done a big thing for your country. Kid! It's great! I shan't forget.”

 But Hilda's hand suddenly began to tremble and her heart to fail her. She could hear Schwarz stamping down the kitchen steps. He would be upon her in a moment! She must not be found there! And how could she get out?

“He's coining,” she whispered. “Good-bye!” and slipping the receiver softly into place she glided across the dusty floor and sprang up the ladder.

 But the ladder was slippery, and her feet and hands were unaccustomed. Schwarz was at the very door, calling back some directions to Heinrich and she was only two-thirds up. She began to tremble and her head swain dizzily. Everything went black before her and for a second she thought she was losing consciousness. Almost her slender hands let go their hold. Then like a whisper of an echo came the words she had scarcely been conscious of hearing as she bung up the receiver, “Take care of yourself, kid! You've been great.” Had he said it or had she only imagined it? Somehow the very thought of those ringing kindly words put heart of life into her, and stimulated her failing sense. With new vigor she grasped the rungs and pulled herself up the last long reach, drawing her body safely out of sight behind the hay, just as Schwarz turned the pass-key in the lock and swung open the door.

 Hilda gave one glance at the window high above her and knew she would not dare to attempt her freedom until Schwarz had left the building. She wriggled herself softly into the hay, drew her feet back close and held her breath. She wasn't at all sure but a corner of her blue gingham apron was still hanging down in full view, if the man should look up, but she dared not stir again lest the rustle of the hay should arrest his attention. She did not even dare to try and think what she should do next, provided he went out without discovering her presence. It seemed to her that there was nothing possible but to lie here absolutely breathless and wait. Somehow it was enough just now to know that she had accomplished her purpose and saved the man who had once saved her. The penalty would probably fall upon her, and from what she had over-heard of the air-man's conversation she judged a penalty from the old country for such a deed as hers would be nothing easy to bear. But she had accomplished her purpose and frustrated their plans. Was that not enough for one lifetime?

 Lying in that cramped position Hilda presently became aware that something harder than hay was under and all about her. Sharp hard corners were sticking into her thin shoulders, and her hand was lying against something smooth and cold that struck a chill through her warm flesh.

Down below the man was striding about angrily and muttering to himself in German. A word now and then was intelligible. His cruel face was visible to the girl's glance as he came within her range of vision, and a long slant ray of light fell across his features from a crack in the wall. He was busy about a large box in the far corner of the barn that looked like a tool chest, and presently there arose a queer humming sound. Strange weird prickles went up and down her spine as she listened and wondered. She felt as if everything about her were charged with some unholy death and she in the midst at the mercy of this dreadful man.

 Gradually, as she lay there underneath the hay peering out into the dimness of the old barn, things became more and more visible. The rough man seated on a box working away with wires at the tool chest like one playing on a diabolical piano. Now and then a soft blue light flashed up in his face. There were wires reaching from the box to the wall. Her eyes could follow them. They were stretched a few inches apart at regular intervals all over the inside of the barn, even over the ceiling. How very strange! What possible use could they have? Were they telephone wires? But why so many? Hilda could make nothing of it.