THE TRESPASSERS
With a long, nervous shudder, the Scarlet Car came to a stop, and the lamps bored a round hole in the night, leaving the rest of the encircling world in a chill and silent darkness.
The lamps showed a flickering picture of a country road between high banks covered with loose stones, and overhead, a fringe of pine boughs.It looked like a colored photograph thrown from a stereopticon in a darkened theater.
From the back of the car the voice of the owner said briskly:
"We will now sing that beautiful ballad entitled `He Is Sleeping in the Yukon Vale To-night.' What are you stopping for, Fred?" he asked.
The tone of the chauffeur suggested he was again upon the defensive.
"For water, sir," he mumbled.
Miss Forbes in the front seat laughed, and her brother in the rear seat, groaned in dismay.
"Oh, for water?" said the owner cordially."I thought maybe it was for coal."Save a dignified silence, there was no answer to this, until there came a rolling of loose stones and the sound of a heavy body suddenly precipitated down the bank, and landing with a thump in the road.
"He didn't get the water," said the owner sadly.
"Are you hurt, Fred?" asked the girl.
The chauffeur limped in front of the lamps, appearing suddenly, like an actor stepping into the limelight.
"No, ma'am," he said.In the rays of the lamp, he unfolded a road map and scowled at it.He shook his head aggrievedly.
"There OUGHT to be a house just about here," he explained.
"There OUGHT to be a hotel and a garage, and a cold supper, just about here," said the girl cheerfully.
"That's the way with those houses," complained the owner.
"They never stay where they're put.At night they go around and visit each other.Where do you think you are, Fred?""I think we're in that long woods, between Loon Lake and Stoughton on the Boston Pike," said the chauffeur, "and," he reiterated, "there OUGHT to be a house somewhere about here--where we get water.""Well, get there, then, and get the water," commanded the owner.
"But I can't get there, sir, till I get the water," returned the chauffeur.
He shook out two collapsible buckets, and started down the shaft of light.
"I won't be more nor five minutes," he called.
"I'm going with him," said the girl, "I'm cold."She stepped down from the front seat, and the owner with sudden alacrity vaulted the door and started after her.
"You coming?" he inquired of Ernest Peabody.But Ernest Peabody being soundly asleep made no reply.Winthrop turned to Sam."Are YOU coming?" he repeated.
The tone of the invitation seemed to suggest that a refusal would not necessarily lead to a quarrel.
"I am NOT!" said the brother."You've kept Peabody and me twelve hours in the open air, and it's past two, and we're going to sleep.You can take it from me that we are going to spend the rest of this night here in this road."He moved his cramped joints cautiously, and stretched his legs the full width of the car.
"If you can't get plain water," he called, "get club soda."He buried his nose in the collar of his fur coat, and the odors of camphor and raccoon skins instantly assailed him, but he only yawned luxuriously and disappeared into the coat as a turtle draws into its shell.From the woods about him the smell of the pine needles pressed upon him like a drug, and before the footsteps of his companions were lost in the silence he was asleep.But his sleep was only a review of his waking hours.Still on either hand rose flying dust clouds and twirling leaves; still on either side raced gray stone walls, telegraph poles, hills rich in autumn colors; and before him a long white road, unending, interminable, stretching out finally into a darkness lit by flashing shop-windows, like open fireplaces, by street lamps, by swinging electric globes, by the blinding searchlights of hundreds of darting trolley cars with terrifying gongs, and then a cold white mist, and again on every side, darkness, except where the four great lamps blazed a path through stretches of ghostly woods.
As the two young men slumbered, the lamps spluttered and sizzled like bacon in a frying-pan, a stone rolled noisily down the bank, a white owl, both appalled and fascinated by the dazzling eyes of the monster blocking the road, hooted, and flapped itself away.But the men in the car only shivered slightly, deep in the sleep of utter weariness.
In silence the girl and Winthrop followed the chauffeur.They had passed out of the light of the lamps, and in the autumn mist the electric torch of the owner was as ineffective as a glow-worm.The mystery of the forest fell heavily upon them.
From their feet the dead leaves sent up a clean, damp odor, and on either side and overhead the giant pine trees whispered and rustled in the night wind.
"Take my coat, too," said the young man."You'll catch cold."He spoke with authority and began to slip the loops from the big horn buttons.It was not the habit of the girl to consider her health.Nor did she permit the members of her family to show solicitude concerning it.But the anxiety of the young man, did not seem to offend her.She thanked him generously."No; these coats are hard to walk in, and I want to walk," she exclaimed.
"I like to hear the leaves rustle when you kick them, don't you? When I was so high, I used to pretend it was wading in the surf."The young man moved over to the gutter of the road where the leaves were deepest and kicked violently."And the more noise you make," he said, "the more you frighten away the wild animals."The girl shuddered in a most helpless and fascinating fashion.
"Don't!" she whispered."I didn't mention it, but already Ihave seen several lions crouching behind the trees.""Indeed?" said the young man.His tone was preoccupied.He had just kicked a rock, hidden by the leaves, and was standing on one leg.
