XVII
THE FLOWER PARLOR
The lower hall did not correspond exactly with the one above. It waslarger, and through its connection with the front door, presented theshape of a letter T--that is, to the superficial observer who was notacquainted with the size of the house and had not had the opportunity ofremarking that at the extremities of the upper hall making this T, weretwo imposing doors usually found shut except at meal-times, when theleft-hand one was thrown open, disclosing a long and dismal corridorsimilar to the ones above. Half-way down this corridor was thedining-room, into which I had now been taken three times.
The right-hand one, I had no doubt, led the way into the greatdrawing-room or dancing-hall which I had started out to see.
Proceeding first to the front of the house, where some glimmer of lightpenetrated from the open sitting-room door, I looked the keys over andread what was written on the several tags attached to them. They wereseven in number, and bore some such names as these: "Blue Chamber,""Library," "Flower Parlor," "Shell Cabinet," "Dark Parlor"--all of whichwas very suggestive, and, to an antiquarian like myself, most alluring.
But it was upon a key marked "A" I first fixed my attention. This, I hadbeen told, would open the large door at the extremity of the upper hall,and when I made a trial with it I found it to move easily, thoughsomewhat gratingly, in the lock, releasing the great doors, which inanother moment swung inward with a growling sound which might have beenstartling to a nervous person filled with the legends of the place.
But in me the only emotion awakened was one of disgust at the nauseouscharacter of the air which instantly enveloped me. Had I wished for anyfurther proof than was afforded by the warning given me by the conditionof the hinges, that the foot of man had not lately invaded theseprecincts, I would have had it in the mouldy atmosphere and smell ofdust that greeted me on the threshold. Neither human breath nor a ray ofoutdoor sunshine seemed to have disturbed its gloomy quiet for years,and when I moved, as I presently did, to open one of the windows I dimlydiscerned at my right, I felt such a movement of something foul andnoisome amid the decaying rags of the carpet through which I wasstumbling that I had to call into use the stronger elements of mycharacter not to back out of a place so given over to rot and thecreatures that infest it.
"What a spot," thought I, "for Amelia Butterworth to find herself in!"and wondered if I could ever wear again the three-dollar-a-yard silkdress in which I was then enveloped. Of my shoes I took no account. Theywere ruined, of course.
I reached the window in safety, but could not open it; neither could Imove the adjoining one. There were sixteen in all, or so I afterwardsfound, and not till I reached the last (you see, I am very persistent)did I succeed in loosening the bar that held its inner shutter in place.This done, I was able to lift the window, and for the first time inyears, perhaps, let in a ray of light into this desolated apartment.
The result was disappointing. Mouldy walls, worm-eaten hangings, twovery ancient and quaint fireplaces, met my eyes, and nothing more. Theroom was absolutely empty. For a few minutes I allowed my eyes to roamover the great rectangular space in which so much that was curious andinteresting had once taken place, and then, with a vague sense ofdefeat, turned my eyes outward, anxious to see what view could beobtained from the window I had opened. To my astonishment, I saw beforeme a high wall with here and there a window in it, all tightly barredand closed, till by a careful inspection about me I realized that I waslooking upon the other wing of the building, and that between thesewings extended a court so narrow and long that it gave to the buildingthe shape, as I have before said, of the letter U. A dreary prospect,reminding one of the view from a prison, but it had its point ofinterest, for in the court below me, the brick pavement of which washalf obliterated by grass, I caught sight of William in an attitude sodifferent from any I had hitherto seen him assume that I found itdifficult to account for it till I caught sight of the jaws of a dogprotruding from under his arms, and then I realized he was huggingSaracen.
The dog was tied, but the comfort which William seemed to take in justthis physical contact with his rough skin was something worth seeing. Itmade me quite thoughtful for a moment.
I detest dogs, and it gives me a creepy sensation to see them fondled,but sincerity of feeling appeals to me, and no one could watch WilliamKnollys with his dogs without seeing that he really loved the brutes.Thus in one day I had witnessed the best and worst side of this man. Butwait! Had I seen the worst? I was not so sure that I had.
He had not noticed my peering, for which I was duly thankful, and afteranother fruitless survey of the windows in the wall before me, I drewback and prepared to leave the place. This was by no means a pleasantundertaking. I could now see what I had only felt before, and totraverse the space before me amid beetles and spiders required adetermination of no ordinary nature. I was glad when I reached the greatdoors and more than glad when they closed behind me.
"So much for Room A," thought I.
The next most promising apartment was in the same corridor as thedining-room. It was called the Dark Parlor. Entering it, I found it darkindeed, but not because of lack of light, but because its hangings wereall of a dismal red and its furniture of the blackest ebony. As thismainly consisted of shelves and cabinets placed against three of itsfour walls, the effect was gloomy indeed, and fully accounted for thename which the room had received. I lingered in it, however, longer thanI had in the big drawing-room, chiefly because the shelves containedbooks.
Had anything better offered I might not have continued my explorations,but not seeing exactly how I could pass away the time more profitably, Ichose out another key and began to search for the Flower Parlor. I foundit beyond the dining-room in the same hall as the Dark Parlor.
It was, as I might have expected from the name, the brightest and mostcheerful spot I had yet found in the whole house. The air in it was evengood, as if sunshine and breeze had not been altogether shut out of it,yet I had no sooner taken one look at its flower-painted walls andpretty furniture than I felt an oppression difficult to account for.Something was wrong about this room. I am not superstitious and have nofaith in premonitions, but once seized by a conviction, I have neverknown myself to be mistaken as to its import. Something was wrong aboutthis room--what, it was my business to discover.
Letting in more light, I took a closer survey of the objects I hadhitherto seen but dimly. They were many and somewhat contradictory incharacter. The floor was bare--the first bare floor I had come upon--butthe shades in the windows, the chintz-covered lounges drawn up besidetables bestrewn with books and other objects of comfort and luxury,bespoke a place in common if not every-day use.
A faint smell of tobacco assured me in whose use, and from the minute Irecognized that this was William's sanctum, my curiosity grew unboundedand I neglected nothing which would be likely to attract thekeenest-eyed detective in Mr. Gryce's force. There were several thingsto be noted there: First, that this lumbering lout of a man read, butonly on one topic--vivisection; secondly, that he was not a readermerely, for there were instruments in the cases heaped up on the tablesabout me, and in one corner--it made me a little sick, but I perseveredin searching out the corners--a glass case with certain horrors in itwhich I took care to note, but which it is not necessary for me todescribe. Another corner was blocked up by a closet which stood out inthe room in a way to convince me it had been built in after the room wasotherwise finished. As I crossed over to examine the door, which did notappear to me to be quite closed, I noticed on the floor at my feet ahuge discoloration. This was the worst thing I had yet encountered, andwhile I did not feel quite justified in giving it a name, I could notbut feel some regret for the worm-eaten rags of the drawing-room, which,after all, are more comfortable underfoot than bare boards with suchsuggestive marks upon them as these.
The door to the closet was, as I had expected, slightly ajar, a fact forwhich I was profoundly grateful, for, set it down to breeding or anatural recognition of other
people's rights, I would have found it mostdifficult to turn the knob of a closet door, inspection of which had notbeen offered me.
But finding it open, I gave it just a little pull and found--well, itwas a surprise, much more so than the sight of a skeleton would havebeen--that the whole interior was taken up by a small circular staircasesuch as you find in public libraries where the books are piled up intiers. It stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and dark as it was Ithought I detected the outlines of a trap-door by means of whichcommunication was established with the room above. Anxious to beconvinced of this, I consulted with myself as to what a detective woulddo in my place. The answer came readily enough: "Mount the stairs andfeel for yourself whether there is a lock there." But my delicacyor--shall I acknowledge it for once?--an instinct of timidity seemed torestrain me, till a remembrance of Mr. Gryce's sarcastic look which Ihad seen honoring lesser occasions than these, came to nerve me, and Iput foot on the stairs which had last been trod--by whom, shall I say?William? Let us hope by William, and William only.
Being tall, I had to mount but a few steps before reaching the ceiling.Pausing for breath, the air being close and the stairs steep, I reachedup and felt for the hinge or clasp I had every reason to expect toencounter. I found it almost immediately, and, satisfied now thatnothing but a board separated me from the room above, I tried that boardwith my finger and was astonished to feel it yield. As this was a whollyunexpected discovery I drew back and asked myself if it would be wise topursue it to the point of raising this door, and had hardly settled thequestion in my own mind, when the sound of a voice raised in a soothingmurmur, revealed the fact that the room above was not empty, and that Iwould be committing a grave indiscretion in thus tampering with a meansof entrance possibly under the very eye of the person speaking.
If the voice I had heard had been all that had come to my ears, I mighthave ventured after a moment of hesitation to brave the displeasure ofMiss Knollys by an attempt which would have at once satisfied me as tothe correctness of the suspicions which were congealing my blood as Istood there, but another voice--the heavy and threatening voice ofWilliam--had broken into this murmur, and I knew that if I so much asawakened in him the least suspicion of my whereabouts, I would have todread an anger that might not know where to stop.
I therefore rested from further efforts in this direction, and fearinghe might bethink him of some errand which would bring him to thetrap-door himself, I began a retreat which I made slow only from mydesire not to make any noise. I succeeded as well as if my feet had beenshod in velvet and my dress had been made of wool instead of a rustlingsilk, and when once again I found myself planted in the centre of theFlower Parlor, the closet door closed, and no evidence remaining of mylate attempt to probe this family secret, I drew a deep breath of reliefthat was but a symbol of my devout thankfulness.
I did not mean to remain much longer in this spot of evil suggestions,but spying the corner of a book protruding from under a cushion of oneof the lounges, I had a curiosity to see if it were similar to theothers I had handled. Drawing it out, I took one look at it.
I need not tell what it was, but after a hasty glance here and therethrough its pages, I put it back, shuddering. If any doubt remained inmy breast that William was one of those monsters who feed their morbidcravings by experiments upon the weak and defenceless, it had beendispelled by what I had just seen in this book.
However, I did not leave the room immediately. As it was of the greatestimportance that I should be able to locate in which of the manyapartments on the floor above, the supposed prisoner was lodged, I castabout me for the means of doing this through the location of the room inwhich I then was. As this could only be done by affixing some token tothe window, which could be recognized from without, I thought, first, ofthrusting the end of my handkerchief through one of the slats of theoutside blinds; secondly, of simply leaving one of these blinds ajar;and finally, of chipping off a piece with the penknife I always carrywith innumerable other small things in the bag I invariably wear at myside. (Fashion, I hold, counts for nothing against convenience.)
This last seemed by much the best device. A handkerchief could bediscovered and pulled out, an open blind could be shut, but a sliveronce separated from the wood of the casement, nothing could replace itor even cover it up without itself attracting attention.
Taking out my knife, I glanced at the door leading into the hall, foundit still shut and everything quiet behind it. Then I took a look intothe shrubs and bushes of the yard outside, and, observing nothing todisturb me, snipped off a bit from one of the outer edges of the slatsand then carefully reclosed the blinds and the window.
I was crossing the threshold when I heard a rapid footstep in the hall.Miss Knollys was hastening down the hall to my side.
"Oh, Miss Butterworth," she exclaimed, with one quick look into the roomI was leaving, "this is William's den, the one spot he never allows anyof us to enter. I don't know how the key came to be upon the string. Itnever was before, and I am afraid he never will forgive me."
"He need never know that I have been the victim of such a mistake," saidI. "My feet leave no trail, and as I use no perfumes he will neversuspect that I have enjoyed a glimpse of these old-fashioned walls andancient cabinets."
"The slats of the blinds are a little open," she remarked, her eyessearching my face for some sign that I am sure she did not find there."Were they so when you came in?"
"I hardly think so; it was very dark. Shall I put them as I found them?"
"No. He will not notice." And she hurried me out, still eying mebreathlessly as if she half distrusted my composure.
"Come, Amelia," I now whispered in self-admonition, "the time forexertion has come. Show this young woman, who is not much behind you inself-control, some of the lighter phases of your character. Charm her,Amelia, charm her, or you may live to rue this invasion into familysecrets more than you may like to acknowledge at the present moment."
A task of some difficulty, but I rejoice in difficult tasks, and beforeanother half-hour had passed, I had the satisfaction of seeing MissKnollys entirely restored to that state of placid melancholy which wasthe natural expression of her calm but unhappy nature.
We visited the Shell Cabinet, the Blue Parlor, and another room, thepeculiarities of which I have forgotten. Frightened by the result ofleaving me to my own devices, she did not quit me for an instant, andwhen, my curiosity quite satisfied, I hinted that a short nap in my ownroom would rest me for the evening, she proceeded with me to the door ofmy apartment.
"The locksmith whom I saw this morning has not kept his word," Iremarked as she was turning away.
"None of the tradesmen here do that," was her cold answer. "I have givenup expecting having any attention paid to my wants."
"Humph," thought I. "Another pleasant admission. Amelia Butterworth,this has not been a cheerful day."