"What is it?" asked Davila. "Why are you smiling so queerly?"
"I was thinking of Colin and Geoffrey--and how they are pretty sure to know their minds when this affair is ended."
"You mean?"
"Exactly! I mean, if this doesn't bring Colin to his senses, he is hopeless."
"And Mr. Croyden?" Davila queried. "How about him?"
"He will surrender, too. All his theoretical notions of relative wealth will be forgotten. I've only to wait for rescue or release. On the whole, Davila, I'm quite satisfied with being abducted. Moreover, it is an experience which doesn't come to every girl." She looked at her friend quizzically. "What are you going to do about Colin? I rather think you should have an answer ready; the circumstances are apt to make him rather precipitate."
The next morning after breakfast, which was served in their rooms, Elaine was looking out through the bars on her window, trying to get some notion of the country, when she saw, what she took to be, the chief abductor approaching. He was a tall, well-dressed man of middle age, with the outward appearance of a gentleman. She looked at him a moment, then rang for the maid.
"I should like to have a word with the man who just came in," she said.
"I will tell him, Miss."
He appeared almost immediately, an inquiring look on his face.
"How can I serve you, Miss Cavendish?" he said, deferentially.
"By permitting us to go out for some air--these rooms were not designed, apparently, for permanent residence."
"It can be arranged," he answered. "When do you wish to go?"
"At once!"
"Very good!" he said. "You will have no objection to being attended, to make sure you don't stray off too far, you know?"
"None whatever, if the attendant remains at a reasonable distance."
He bowed and stood aside.
"You may come," he said.
"Is the locality familiar?" Elaine asked, when they were some distance from the house.
Davila shook her head. "It is south of Hampton, I think, but I can't give any reason for my impression. The car was running very rapidly; we were, I reckon, almost two hours on the way, but we can't be more than fifty miles away."
"If they came direct--but if they circled, we could be much less," Elaine observed.
"It's a pity we didn't think to drop something from the car to inform our friends which way to look for us."
"I did," said Elaine. "I tossed out a handkerchief and a glove a short distance from Hampton--just as I struck that fellow. The difficulty is, there isn't any assurance we kept to that road. Like as not, we started north and ended east or south of town. What is this house, a fishing club?"
"I rather think so. There is a small wharf, and a board-walk down to the Bay, and the house itself is one story and spread-out, so to speak."
"Likely it's a summer club-house, which these men have either rented or preëmpted for our prison."
"The country around here is surely deserted!" said Davila.
"Hence, a proper choice for our temporary residence."
"I can't understand the care they are taking of us--the deference with which we are treated, the food that is given us."
In Her Own Right · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.