Read Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth Page 35

  XXXIV

  CONDITIONS

  But in another moment she was back, her eyes dilated and her wholeperson exhaling a terrible purpose.

  "Do not look at me, do not notice me!" she cried, but in a voice sohoarse no one but Mr. Gryce could fully understand her. "I am for noone's eyes but God's. Pray that he may have mercy upon me." Then as shesaw us all instinctively fall back, she controlled herself, and,pointing toward Mother Jane's cottage, said more distinctly: "As forthose men, let them dig. Let them dig the whole day long. Secrecy mustbe kept, a secrecy so absolute that not even the birds of the air mustsee that our thoughts range beyond the forty rods surrounding MotherJane's cottage."

  She turned and would have fled away for the second time, but Mr. Grycestopped her. "You have set yourself a task beyond your strength. Can youperform it?"

  "I can perform it," she said. "If Loreen does not talk, and I am allowedto spend the day in solitude."

  I had never seen Mr. Gryce so agitated--no, not when he left OliveRandolph's bedside after an hour of vain pleading. "But to wait all day!Is it necessary for you to wait all day?"

  "It is necessary." She spoke like an automaton. "To-night at twilight,when the sun is setting, meet me at the great tree just where the roadturns. Not a minute sooner, not an hour later. I will be calmer then."And waiting now for nothing, not for a word from Loreen nor a detainingtouch from Mr. Gryce, she flew away for the second time. This timeLoreen followed her.

  "Well, that is the hardest thing I ever had to do," said Mr. Gryce,wiping his forehead and speaking in a tone of real grief and anxiety."Do you think her delicate frame can stand it? Will she survive this dayand carry through whatever it is she has set herself to accomplish?"

  "She has no organic disease," said I, "but she loved that young man verymuch, and the day will be a terrible one to her."

  Mr. Gryce sighed.

  "I wish I had not been obliged to resort to such means," said he, "butwomen like that only work under excitement, and she does know the secretof this affair."

  "Do you mean," I demanded, almost aghast, "that you have deceived herwith a false telegram; that that slip of paper you hold----"

  "Read it," he cried, holding it out toward me.

  I did read it. Alas, there was no deception in it. It read as he said.

  "However--" I began.

  But he had pocketed the telegram and was several steps away before I hadfinished my sentence.

  "I am going to start these men up," said he. "You will breathe no wordto Miss Lucetta of my sympathy nor let your own interests slack in theinvestigations which are going on under our noses."

  And with a quick, sharp bow, he made his way to the gate, whither Ifollowed him in time to see him set his foot upon a patch of sage.

  "You will begin at this place," he cried, "and work east; and,gentlemen, something tells me that we shall be successful."

  With almost a simultaneous sound a dozen spades and picks struck theground. The digging up of Mother Jane's garden had begun in earnest.