VII
CONSTRAINT
So! our dreadful secret was not confined to ourselves as we hadsupposed, but was shared or at least suspected, by our host.
Thankful that it was I, rather than Sinclair, who was called upon tomeet and sustain this shock, I answered with what calmness I could:
"Yes; Sinclair mentioned the matter to me. Indeed, if you have anycuriosity on the subject, I think I can enlighten you as fully as hecan."
Mr. Armstrong glanced up the stairs, hesitated, then drew me into hisprivate room.
"I find myself in a very uncomfortable position," he began. "A strangeand quite unaccountable change has shown itself in the appearance ofMrs. Lansing's body during the last few hours; a change which bafflesthe physicians and raises in their minds very unfortunate conjectures.What I want to know is whether Mr. Sinclair still has in his possessionthe box which is said to hold a vial of deadly poison, or whether it haspassed into any other hand since he showed it to certain ladies in thelibrary."
We were standing directly in the light of an eastern window. Deceptionwas impossible, even if I had felt like employing it. In Sinclair'sinterests, if not in my own, I resolved to be as true to our host as ourpositions demanded, yet, at the same time, to save Gilbertine as much aspossible from premature if not final suspicion.
I therefore replied: "That is a question I can answer as well asSinclair." (Happy was I to save him this cross-examination.) "While hewas showing this toy, Mrs. Armstrong came into the room and proposed astroll, which drew all of the ladies from the room and called for hisattendance as well. With no thought of the danger involved, he placedthe trinket on a high shelf in the cabinet, and went out with the rest.When he came back for it, it was gone."
The usually ruddy aspect of my host's face deepened, and he sat down inthe great armchair which did duty before his writing-table.
"This is dreadful," was his comment, "entailing I do not know whatunfortunate consequences upon this household and on the unhappy girl--"
"Girl?" I repeated.
He turned upon me with great gravity. "Mr. Worthington, I am sorry tohave to admit it, but something strange, something not easilyexplainable, took place in this house last night. It has only just cometo light; otherwise, the doctors' conclusions might have been different.You know there is a detective in the house. The presents are valuableand I thought best to have a man here to look after them."
I nodded; I had no breath for speech.
"That man tells me," continued Mr. Armstrong, "that just a few minutesprevious to the time the whole household was aroused last night, heheard a step in the hall overhead, then the sound of a light footdescending the little staircase in the servants' hall. Being anxious tofind out what this person wanted at an hour so late, he lowered the gas,closed his door and listened. The steps went by his door. Satisfied thatit was a woman he heard, he pulled open the door again and looked out. Ayoung girl was standing not very far from him in a thin streak ofmoonlight. She was gazing intently at something in her hand, and thatsomething had a purple gleam to it. He is ready to swear to this. Nextmoment, frightened by some noise she heard, she fled back and vanishedagain in the region of the little staircase. It was soon, very soonafter this that the shriek came. Now, Mr. Worthington, what am I to dowith this knowledge? I have advised this man to hold his peace till Ican make inquiries, but where am I to make them? I can not think thatMiss Camerden--"
The ejaculation which escaped me was involuntary. To hear her name forthe second time in this association was more than I could bear.
"Did he say it was Miss Camerden?" I hurriedly inquired as he looked atme in some surprise. "How should he know Miss Camerden?"
"He described her," was the unanswerable reply. "Besides, we know thatshe was circulating in the halls at that time. I declare I have neverknown a worse business," this amiable man bemoaned. "Let me send forSinclair; he is more interested than any one else in Gilbertine'srelatives; or stay, what if I should send for Miss Camerden herself? Sheshould be able to tell how she came by this box."
I subdued my own instincts, which were all for clearing Dorothy on thespot, and answered as I thought Sinclair would like me to answer.
"It is a serious and very perplexing piece of business," said I; "but ifyou will wait a short time I do not think you will have to trouble MissCamerden. I am sure that explanations will be given. Give the lady achance," I stammered. "Imagine what her feelings would be if questionedon so delicate a topic. It would make a breach which nothing could heal.Later, if she does not speak, it will be only right for you to ask herwhy."
"She did not come down this morning."
"Naturally not."
"If I could take counsel of my wife! But she is of too nervous atemperament. I am anxious to keep her from knowing this freshcomplication as long as possible. Do you think I can look for MissCamerden to explain herself before the doctors return, or before Mrs.Lansing's physician, for whom I have telegraphed, can arrive from NewYork?"
"I am sure that three hours will not pass before you hear the truth.Leave me to work out the situation. I promise that if I can not bring itabout to your satisfaction, Sinclair shall be asked to lend hisassistance. Only keep the gossips from Miss Camerden's good name. Wordscan be said in a moment that will not be forgotten in years. I trembleat such a prospect for her."
"No one knows of her being seen with the box," he remarked. "Every oneprobably knows by this time that there is some doubt felt as to thecause of Mrs. Lansing's death. You can not keep a suspicion of thisnature secret in a house so full of people as this."
I knew it, but, relieved by his manner if not by his words, I took myleave of him for the present and made my way at once to the dining-room.Should I find Miss Lane there? Yes, and what was more, the fortunes ofthe day had decreed that the place beside her should be unoccupied.
I was on my way to that place when I was struck by the extreme quietinto which the room had fallen. It had been humming with talk when Ifirst entered; but now not a voice was raised, and scarcely an eye. Inthe hurried glance I cast about the board, not a look met mine inrecognition or welcome.
What did it mean? Had they been talking about me? Possibly; and in away, it would seem, that was not altogether flattering to my vanity.
Unable to hide my sense of the general embarrassment which my presencehad called forth, I passed to the seat I have indicated and let myinquiring look settle on Miss Lane. She was staring in imitation of theothers straight into her plate, but as I saluted her with a quiet goodmorning, she looked up and acknowledged my courtesy with a faint, almostsympathetic, smile. At once the whole tableful broke again into chatter,and I could safely put the question with which my mind was full.
"How is Miss Murray?" I asked. "I do not see her here."
"Did you expect to? Poor Gilbertine! This is not the bridal day sheexpected." Then, with irresistible naivete entirely in keeping with herfairy-like figure and girlish face, she added: "I think it was justhorrid in the old woman to die the night before the wedding; don't you?"
"Indeed, I do," I emphatically rejoined, humoring her in the hope oflearning what I wished to know. "Does Miss Murray still cherish theexpectation of being married to-day? No one seems to know."
"Nor do I. I haven't seen her since the middle of the night. She didn'tcome back to her room. They say she is sobbing out her terror anddisappointment in some attic corner. Think of that for GilbertineMurray! But even that is better than--"
The sentence trailed away into an indistinguishable murmur; the murmurinto silence. Was it because of a fresh lull in the conversation aboutus? I hardly think so, for though the talk was presently resumed, sheremained silent, not even giving the least sign of wishing to prolongthis particular topic. I finished my coffee as soon as possible andquitted the room, but not before many had preceded me. The hall wasconsequently as full as before of a gossiping crowd.
I was on the point of bowing myself through the various groups blockingmy way to the library doo
r, when I noticed renewed signs ofembarrassment on all the faces turned my way. Women who were clusteredabout the newel-post drew back, and some others sauntered away into siderooms with an appearance of suddenly wishing to go somewhere. Thiscertainly was very singular, especially as these marks of disapprovaldid not seem to be directed so much at myself as at some one behind me.Who could this some one be? Turning quickly, I cast a glance up thestaircase before which I stood and saw the figure of a young girldressed in black hesitating on the landing. This young girl was DorothyCamerden, and it took but a moment's contemplation of the scene for meto feel assured that it was against her this feeling of universalconstraint had been directed.