# Greater Love Hath No Man/Chapter 25

CHAPTER XXV
THE ALLIES
"CAPTAIN! Captain Sully!"
Out a little from the village on the cliff road leading to the coast-guard station Captain Jonah Sully halted, turned around, and peered through the darkness at a figure that was hurrying after him.
"Be you callin' me?" he inquired; then, in recognition: "Oh, it's you, miss, be it? Evenin' to you—evenin'!"
Janet answered him in little gasps, out of breath from her run.
"Good evening, captain," she said. "I was afraid I was never going to catch you. I want to talk to you for a few minutes."
"Why surely—sure-lee," invited the late skipper of the Mary K. Jones affably.
"Alone," went on Janet. "Where we won't be overheard."
"Why sure—"
"We can go over here a little way," she continued hurriedly, taking his arm and leading him from the road toward the cliff.
Captain Jonah Sully submitted in some wonder, but without hesitation.
"Reckon my luck's turned," observed he, with a chuckle. "Ain't had any young ladies runnin' after me ​for I dunno how long. Yes; reckon it have—full insurance on the Mary K. too! An' naou what might it all be 'baout, miss?"
They had halted halfway to the cliff, far enough from the road to be unobserved in the darkness—back along the road behind a score of tiny lights scintillated from cottage windows, but that was all, there was no other light; if moon there was, it was hidden in the black scudding clouds—they could scarcely see each other's faces.
"It's about Varge," she said quickly.
"Varge?"—Jonah Sully shook his head perplexedly. "Dunno as I ever heerd tell of it," said he doubtfully.
"Varge—the man you know as Peters—the man my father arrested to-night," she said hastily.
"Oh—him!" exclaimed Jonah Sully. "Sakes naow! You know 'baout that, do you? Naow that's too bad! I reckon some of the men must have been talkin' to their wives after promisin' solemn to keep their mouths shet, an' the wives has gone an' blabbed it 'raound." Then, in profound disgust: "Never could count on the women folks to hold their tongues ever since the world began!"
"I am afraid you are doing even your own sex an injustice this time," said Janet, and a little laugh seemed trying to struggle through the anxiety in her voice. "I have not heard a word from any one. My father has no suspicion that I know. He does not even know that I am out of the house—I am supposed to be in my room with a bad headache. I saw you passing, at least I was almost sure it was you, and I stole out of the house after you."
"What for?" demanded Jonah Sully, frankly puzzled. ​"An' haow did you come to know of it if no one told you?"
"I had walked a long way along the beach toward the headland," Janet replied. "When I returned, I came up the cliff at the other end of the village near the lock-up, and I saw them go in there with him—and come away without him."
"Well," admitted Captain Sully, patting thoughtfully at the bandage on his head, "I dunno but that's tol'rable fair evidence. An' naow 'baout seein' me goin' by the house an' you purtendin' to go to your room an' runnin' out after me instead—I don't just seem to get my bearin's somehaow 'baout that."
"I want your help"—Janet leaned forward and caught his arm.
"Help?" said Captain Jonah Sully bewilderedly.
"To get Varge out of there," she said, in a low, strained tone.
"Landsakes!" ejaculated the little skipper, stepping hastily back. "Be you mad? Why—why, it's agin the law!"
"I have come to you because I must have help"—Janet had caught his arm again, and was speaking tensely. "I am not mad. He saved my life once at the risk of his own."
"Jerooshey!" gasped Jonah Sully. "You don't tell! Saved your life, did he? Well, I dunno as I blame you any for wantin' to get him out then, an'—" Captain Jonah Sully stopped suddenly, and his jaw sagged a little—"why, say," said he excitedly, "come to think of it, I reckon he saved mine too—last night—I'd have gone overboard sure or been drowned washin' 'raound on the ​deck when I was stunned if it hadn't been for him."
"Yes," agreed Janet evenly. "That is why I came to you."
"Never thought of it," said Jonah Sully, with heavy wonder. "Strange, ain't it? 'Pears to kind of put a different complexion on it too. What they goin' to do with him?"
"Send him back to the penitentiary to-morrow for—for life," said Janet numbly.
"Be, eh?" said the skipper, with a sudden and defiant little grunt. "Well now, come to think of it, I dunno as they will. It's a pesky risky business interferrin' with the law, but there ain't no one ever said Barnabas Sully—Jonah ain't my real name, miss—ever turned his back on any one that ever did him a good turn, an'—an' gol-ding the law, anyhow! Kind of took to him too, come to think of it, dinged if I didn't!"
"I—I knew you would help me"—there was a little catch in her voice, and she pressed his arm gratefully. "I have been thinking and thinking about it ever since it happened, and I am sure it can be done easily—if I were only stronger I would have tried it alone, but I am afraid it would have taken me too long, and besides I couldn't get any tools."
"Well," said Jonah Sully, nodding his head seriously, "that sounds feasible so fur."
"The cell is in the rear part of the townhall, in the basement," Janet explained, "and it has a separate door at the side. I passed there two or three times last week and I noticed that it was fastened with a heavy padlock. It ought not to take a man very long to file away the staples and get the outside door open. I do not know ​what kind of a cell it is, but I do not imagine it is very modern or formidable; and, anyway, once inside, Varge will help us. Besides the file, we'll need a good strong bar and a lantern."
"I'll get 'em—up to the coast-guard station," said Jonah Sully cheerfully. "You, leave that to me. I'll get 'em. Reckon though it's a mite early to begin operations, ain't it? There might be someone snoopin' 'baout."
"I intended to wait until after midnight," said Janet quietly. "We will be sure then of no interference—and that will give Varge four or five hours before daylight. And now I must get back. Will you meet me then at the other end of the village in front of the church?"
A dry chuckle came from Captain Jonah Sully.
"Lord!" said he, "I never thought of that."
"Of what?" asked Janet.
"Why, the hullabaloo there'll be in the mornin' when they find the young feller's gone. The hull community 'll be dancin' 'raound like hot fat on a griddle," said the erstwhile skipper of the Mary K. Jones, with another chuckle. "Reckon though," he added more cautiously, "we'll have to step right keerful after tweakin' the nose of the law audacious-like—we hadn't ought to forget it's a pesky serious business."
"I haven't forgotten it," said Janet, a pathetic grimness in her voice. "At the church then, at midnight, and you—you won't fail, will you?"
"Great snakes!" said Captain Jonah Sully earnestly. "Don't you worry none 'baout that, Miss Rand. I'll be there—sure-lee."
​Ten minutes later, Janet regained her room unobserved, and drawing a chair to the window sat staring out into the night. Below, she could hear the murmur of voices, as her father and aunt talked in the sitting-room. By and by—it seemed a long, interminable time—she heard them coming up the stairs; then a light knock sounded at her door.
"Asleep, little girl?" her father called softly.
"No; not yet," she answered.
"How's the head?"
"Better," she said. "It will be all right in the morning, dad, I'm sure."
"That's good," he said. "Good-night, dear."
"Good-night, dad," she responded.
His steps passed on along the hall, and a wistful little smile crept to Janet's lips. It was not often that she and her father played at cross purposes—and it was he who had so solicitously urged her to go to her room and lie down when, early in the evening, she had complained of her headache!
Midnight came at last—how many times had she consulted her watch by the aid of a match!—how terribly, how anxiously the time had dragged by! She put on her cloak, moved toward the door—and stopped. Money—Varge would need money! He would not take it from her—but he would not surely refuse it as a loan from Captain Sully. She went to her dresser, found her purse, took out the bills that were in it, and placed them in the pocket of her cloak—then she crossed to the door, opened it, and stood on the threshold listening.
All was silence—only her heart was beating wildly; ​it seemed almost as though she could hear it. She pressed her hand to her side and held it there a moment; then, closing the bedroom door noiselessly, she gathered up the skirts of her cloak and dress, crept down the stairs, made her way to the front door and out into the street.
It was intensely dark—a hurried glance about her showed her that not a light was burning in the village—only the boom of the surf seemed to fill the night.
She went quickly down the street. Five minutes brought her to the rendezvous, and she stopped before the church.
"Here I be," announced Jonah Sully, stepping out from the porch. "Ain't no one seen you up to the house, have they?"
"No," said Janet. "No—it's all right."
"An' I got it," declared Jonah Sully gleefully. "Yes; I reckon my luck's turned. Hooked it, by crickey!"
"You mean the file and bar and lantern?"—Janet nodded her head.
"More'n that," chuckled Captain Sully. "Got the key for the padlock—hooked it from the cap'n of the coast-guard—'pears he's kind of chief magistrate an' head of the fire department an' I dunno but some other things. Anyway, he had the keys an' I borrowed it outer his clothes on the way out. Might as well move along, hadn't we?"
"Just a minute"—Janet took the money from her cloak and held it toward him. "Here is a little money that I want you to make Varge take—as a loan from you, you understand?"
"Got my hands full," said the skipper; "lantern an' ​bars an' tools an' things we'll need once we get inside. Jest slip it into my pocket, an' I'll see he gets it."
"There it is, then," said Janet, putting the money into the side pocket of his coat. "Let me help you carry something."
"No," said he. "'Tain't but a step—we'll be there in a jiffy."
"Come then," said Janet quickly.
It was hardly a hundred yards away, a wooden building next to the church, and the last one on the road within the village proper. It took them scarcely a minute to reach it, and, passing along the side of the wall, Jonah Sully laid the things he was carrying upon the ground before the door and reached into his pocket for the key.
"Ain't no fear of us bein' heerd, 'count of the surf," he observed. "An' I dunno but that's just as well, 'cause mabbe we'll have to make some noise when we get inside."
"Yes, yes," breathed Janet—she was trembling a little, excitement and emotion growing upon her. "But hurry, hurry!"
There was a faint metallic click, the rubbing of metal against metal—and then the creak of the door swinging open.
"There you be!" exclaimed Captain Jonah Sully triumphantly.
Janet stepped quickly forward.
"Varge!" she called in a low voice.
There was no answer.
"Varge!" she called again.
Still no answer.
​"Varge!"—she was terrified now. Her heart seemed to sink and grow cold, as though an icy hand were clutching at it—had they come too late—was he already on his way back to Hebron? She turned frantically to Jonah Sully. "The lantern—a light—quick!" she cried.
On his knees, Jonah Sully lighted the lantern, stood up, flashed it around—and, jaw dropped, stared into Janet's white face. Then he leaned back against the wall and patted weakly at the top of his head.
"'Pears—'pears as if he'd—he'd gone," he gasped, "Jee-rooshey! Never see anything like that in all my born days. 'Tain't possible—not without dynamite." Captain Jonah Sully's voice trailed off into an awestruck whisper. "Jee-rooshey!" he said.
A tense, rigid little figure, motionless, Janet stood staring silently about her. It was a small, narrow place, cement-floored room. Across one end, the one opposite the entrance, had been a cell of brick and cement, with a heavy door, iron-sheeted halfway up, iron-barred the rest of the way. This hung now in utter ruin, sagging out at an angle, held only by a half -broken hinge at the bottom. The centre and upper hinges had been torn from the walls, and the bars of the door were forced outward as from an explosion. Brick and plaster, strewing the floor, adding to the effect of ruin and wreckage, completed the scene.
"There!" muttered the skipper helplessly, pointing to the single window just above his head, whose bars had been bent apart like pieces of wire. "There's where he went! Well, I swan! Couldn't have been dynamite 'cause he'd have blown himself to pieces." Captain Sully ​pulled earnestly at his whiskers. "Well, I swan!" he said.
"Let us go," said Janet, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Yes," said Captain Jonah Sully mechanically, starting toward the door. "Let's go."
"The light!" she said sharply. "Put out the light!"
"Yes," he said. "The light"—and blew it out.
It was Janet who replaced the padlock on the door and locked it; and then together they made their way to the road and started back along it.
Suddenly the little skipper stopped short and grasped Janet's arm.
She turned toward him, startled.
"What is it?" she asked anxiously.
"Why," said Captain Jonah Sully complacently, "come to think of it, I ain't surprised a bit at what I seen in there. Come to think of it, he's pesky strong, he is. Yesterday he lifted a cask over onto the Mary K. that weighed seven hundred pounds, or I dunno but mabbe jest a mite under eight hundred, dinged if he didn't!"
"Oh!" said Janet dully—and went on again.
Jonah Sully was still talking, but she did not hear him. Varge was gone—where?