XXXII
RELIEF
The plan succeeded. Mr. Gryce's plans usually do. William wentimmediately to his room, and in a little while came down and hastenedinto the cellar.
"I want to see what mischief they have done," said he.
When he came back, his face was beaming.
"All right," he shouted to his sisters, who had come into the hall tomeet him. "Your secret's out, but mine----"
"There, there!" interposed Loreen, "you had better go up-stairs andprepare for supper. We must eat, William, or rather, Miss Butterworthmust eat, whatever our sorrows or disappointments."
He took the rebuke with a grunt and relieved us of his company. Littledid he think as he went whistling up the stairs that he had just shownMr. Gryce where to search for whatever might be lying under the broadsweep of that cellar-bottom.
That night--it was after supper, which I did not eat for all my naturalstoicism--Hannah came rushing in where we all sat silent, for the girlsshowed no disposition to enlarge their confidences in regard to theirmother, and no other topic seemed possible, and, closing the door behindher, said quickly and with evident chagrin:
"Those men are here again. They say they forgot something. What do youthink it means, Miss Loreen? They have spades and lanterns and----"
"They are the police, Hannah. If they forgot something, they have theright to return. Don't work yourself up about that. The secret they havealready found out was our worst. There is nothing to fear after that."And she dismissed Hannah, merely bidding her let us know when the housewas quite clear.
Was she right? Was there nothing worse for them to fear? I longed toleave these trembling sisters, longed to join the party below and followin the track of the tiny impressions made by the tacks I had driven intoWilliam's soles. If there was anything hidden under the cellar-bottom,natural anxiety would carry him to the spot he had most to fear; so theywould only have to dig at the places where these impressions took asharp turn.
But was there anything hidden there? From the sisters' words and actionsI judged there was nothing serious, but would they know? William wasquite capable of deceiving them. Had he done so? It was a question.
It was solved for us by Mr. Gryce's reappearance in the room an hour orso later. From the moment the light fell upon his kindly features I knewthat I might breathe again freely. It was not the face he showed in thehouse of a criminal, nor did his bow contain any of the false deferencewith which he sometimes tries to hide his secret doubt or contempt.
"I have come to trouble you for the last time, ladies. We have made adouble search through this house and through the stables, and feelperfectly justified in saying that our duty henceforth will lead uselsewhere. The secrets we have surprised are your own, and if possibleshall remain so. Your brother's propensity for vivisection and thereturn and death of your mother bear so little on the real questionwhich interests this community that we may be able to prevent theirspread as gossip through the town. That this may be doneconscientiously, however, I ought to know something more of the lattercircumstance. If Miss Butterworth will then be good enough to grant me afew minutes' conference with these ladies, I may be able to satisfymyself to such an extent as to let this matter rest where it is."
I rose with right good will. A mountain weight had been lifted from me,proof positive that I had really come to love these girls.
What they told him, whether it was less or more than they told me, Icannot say, and for the moment did not know. That it had not shaken hisfaith in them was evident, for when he came out to where I was waitingin the hall his aspect was even more encouraging than it had beenbefore.
"No guile in those girls," he whispered as he passed me. "The clue givenby what seemed mysterious in this house has come to naught. To-morrow wetake up another. The trinkets found in Mother Jane's cottage aresomething real. You may sleep soundly to-night, Miss Butterworth. Yourpart has been well played, but I know you are glad that it has failed."
And I knew that I was glad, too, which is the best proof that there issomething in me besides the detective instinct.
The front door had scarcely closed behind him when William came stormingin. He had been gossiping over the fence with Mr. Trohm, and had beenbeguiled into taking a glass of wine in his house. This was evidentwithout his speaking of it.
"Those sneaks!" cried he. "I hear they've been back again, digging andstirring up our cellar-bottom like mad. That's because you're sodreadful shy, you girls. You're afraid of this, you're afraid of that.You don't want folks to know that mother once--Well, well, there it isnow! If you had not tried to keep this wretched secret, it would havebeen an old matter by this time, and my affairs would have been leftuntouched. But now every fool will cry out at me in this staid,puritanical old town, and all because a few bones have been found ofanimals which have died in the cause of science. I say it's all yourfault! Not that I have anything to be ashamed of, because I haven't, butbecause this other thing, this d--d wicked series of disappearances,taking place, for aught we know, a dozen rods from our gates (though Ithink--but no matter what I think--you all like, or say you like, oldDeacon Spear), has made every one so touchy in this pharisaical townthat to kill a fly has become a crime even if it is to save oneself frompoison. I'm going to see if I cannot make folks blink askance at someother man than me. I'm going to find out who or what causes thesedisappearances."
This was a declaration to make us all stare and look a little bitfoolish. William playing the detective! Well, what might I not live tosee next! But the next moment an overpowering thought struck me. Mightthis Deacon Spear by any chance be the rich man whose animosity AltheaKnollys had awakened?
_BOOK IV_
THE BIRDS OF THE AIR