Anna Klein stood in her small room and covered her mouth with her

hands, lest she shriek aloud. She knew quite well that the bomb in the

suit-case would not suffice to blow up the whole great plant. But she

knew what the result of its explosion would be.

The shells were not loaded at the Spencer plant. They were shipped away

for that. But the fuses were loaded there, and in the small brick house

at the end of the fuse building there were stored masses of explosive,

enough to destroy a town. It was there, of course, that Herman was to

place the bomb. She knew how he would do it, carefully, methodically,

and with what a lumbering awkward gait he would make his escape.

Her whole mind was bent on giving the alarm. On escaping, first, and

then on arousing the plant. But when the voices below continued, long

after Herman had gone, she was entirely desperate. Herman had not

carried out the suit-case. He had looked, indeed, much as usual as he

walked out the garden path and closed the gate behind him. He had walked

rather slowly, but then he always walked slowly. She seemed to see,

however, a new caution in his gait, as of one who dreaded to stumble.

She dressed herself, with shaking fingers, and pinned on her hat.

The voices still went on below, monotonous, endless; the rasping of

Rudolph's throat, irritated by cheap cigarets, the sound of glasses on

the table, once a laugh, guttural and mirthless. It was ten o'clock when

she knew, by the pushing back of their chairs, that they were preparing

to depart. Ten o'clock!

She was about to commence again the feverish unscrewing of the door

hinges, when she heard Rudolph's step on the stairs. She had only time

to get to the back of her room, beside the bed, when she heard him try

the knob.

"Anna?"

She let him call her again.

"Anna!"

"What is it?"

"You in bed?"

"Yes. Go away and let me alone. I've got a right to sleep, anyhow."

"I'm going out, but I'll be back in ten minutes. You try any tricks and

I'll get you. See?"

"You make me sick," she retorted.

She heard him turn and run lightly down the stairs. Only when she heard

the click of the gate did she dare to begin again at the door. She got

down-stairs easily, but she was still a prisoner. However, she found the

high little window into the coal-shed open, and crawled through it, to

stand listening. The street was quiet.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024