Page 66 of A Treacherous Treasure

Her heart pounded as she stared hard into the darkness. Finally, she saw a shadowy figure moving toward her.

Her pistol, which was loaded and ready to shoot, was in the drawer of the table next to her bed. If she reached for it, would the person attack her?

“Give me your map,” the raspy voice said.

“Get out of my room.”

The figure stopped moving. “You have the map and I want it.”

Her heart pounding, she quickly opened the drawer and took hold of the pistol. Once she was pointing it in the direction of the intruder, she said, “Get out. I have a gun and I will shoot you.” She pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed.

“You will not shoot me. I want the map. Give it to me now and I won’t kill you.”

How did this man know about the treasure map? Thomas had the map that showed in closer detail where the treasure was buried, did he not? But she would not tell this man that. He might go to Thomas’s house and steal it.

“Get out of my room,” she repeated. “If you leave now, I won’t shoot you.”

“I want that map. I won’t leave until I get it.”

The man’s voice sounded familiar. Then he took a step toward her, bumping into the foot of her bed.

“If you come any closer, I will shoot you.”

The man took another step. “You will not shoot me. But if you don’t give me that map, I’ll make you regret it.”

Rebecca braced her arms, aiming for his right shoulder. “Stop. Don’t come any closer.” She remembered Thomas’s words not to miss if she shot at an intruder, because she would have to reload the gun, and in that time the intruder could take the gun away from her.

The man lunged toward her, his hand raised in the air.

Rebecca squeezed the trigger.

The sound was deafening, roaring in her ears even as she forced herself not to blink.

The man’s body was thrown backward, then he fell hard and didn’t move.

O God! Did I kill him?Her heart seemed to stop beating.

She scrambled out of bed just as the housekeeper, Mrs. Atwater, came into the open doorway with a candle.

The large man was lying on the floor, starting to make whimpering sounds.

“He was in my room, so I shot him.” Rebecca’s hands were shaking, and she put the gun down on her bed.

As Mrs. Atwater came closer with the candle, they both leaned over him. His face was unmistakably that of the constable, Mr. Fogg.

“I didn’t mean to kill him. I tried to shoot him in the shoulder.”

“He’s not dead,” the housekeeper said. “He’s moaning.”

Indeed, his eyes were closed but he was making the sounds of someone in pain.

What a horrid man, to invade her room while she was sleeping, to demand that she give him her map! But she didn’t wish to kill him.

“What should we do?” Her heart was pounding against her chest now, and the scent of blood mingled with the smell of gunpowder, stinging her nostrils.

Soon, more voices were heard coming closer.

“Rebecca! What happened?” Margaret came running into the room in her nightgown, reminding Rebecca that she herself was only wearing her nightdress. She should go get her wrapper, but it was hanging in the wardrobe on the other side of the constable’s body.