CHAPTER XXV
A VISIT FROM LOUISE
That day was destined to be an eventful one, for when I entered thehouse and found Eliza ensconced in the upper hall on a chair, with MaryAnne doing her best to stifle her with household ammonia, and Liddyrubbing her wrists--whatever good that is supposed to do--I knew thatthe ghost had been walking again, and this time in daylight.
Eliza was in a frenzy of fear. She clutched at my sleeve when I wentclose to her, and refused to let go until she had told her story.Coming just after the fire, the household was demoralized, and it wasno surprise to me to find Alex and the under-gardener strugglingdown-stairs with a heavy trunk between them.
"I didn't want to do it, Miss Innes," Alex said. "But she was soexcited, I was afraid she would do as she said--drag it down herself,and scratch the staircase."
I was trying to get my bonnet off and to keep the maids quiet at thesame time. "Now, Eliza, when you have washed your face and stoppedbawling," I said, "come into my sitting-room and tell me what hashappened."
Liddy put away my things without speaking. The very set of hershoulders expressed disapproval.
"Well," I said, when the silence became uncomfortable, "things seem tobe warming up."
Silence from Liddy, and a long sigh.
"If Eliza goes, I don't know where to look for another cook." Moresilence.
"Rosie is probably a good cook." Sniff.
"Liddy," I said at last, "don't dare to deny that you are having thetime of your life. You positively gloat in this excitement. You neverlooked better. It's my opinion all this running around, and gettingjolted out of a rut, has stirred up that torpid liver of yours."
"It's not myself I'm thinking about," she said, goaded into speech."Maybe my liver was torpid, and maybe it wasn't; but I know this: I'vegot some feelings left, and to see you standing at the foot of thatstaircase shootin' through the door--I'll never be the same womanagain."
"Well, I'm glad of that--anything for a change," I said. And in cameEliza, flanked by Rosie and Mary Anne.
Her story, broken with sobs and corrections from the other two, wasthis: At two o'clock (two-fifteen, Rosie insisted) she had goneup-stairs to get a picture from her room to show Mary Anne. (A pictureof a LADY, Mary Anne interposed.) She went up the servants' staircaseand along the corridor to her room, which lay between the trunk-roomand the unfinished ball-room. She heard a sound as she went down thecorridor, like some one moving furniture, but she was not nervous. Shethought it might be men examining the house after the fire the nightbefore, but she looked in the trunk-room and saw nobody.
She went into her room quietly. The noise had ceased, and everythingwas quiet. Then she sat down on the side of her bed, and, feelingfaint--she was subject to spells--("I told you that when I came, didn'tI, Rosie?" "Yes'm, indeed she did!")--she put her head down on herpillow and--
"Took a nap. All right!" I said. "Go on."
"When I came to, Miss Innes, sure as I'm sittin' here, I thought I'ddie. Somethin' hit me on the face, and I set up, sudden. And then Iseen the plaster drop, droppin' from a little hole in the wall. Andthe first thing I knew, an iron bar that long" (fully two yards by hermeasure) "shot through that hole and tumbled on the bed. If I'd beenstill sleeping" ("Fainting," corrected Rosie) "I'd 'a' been hit on thehead and killed!"
"I wisht you'd heard her scream," put in Mary Anne. "And her face aswhite as a pillow-slip when she tumbled down the stairs."
"No doubt there is some natural explanation for it, Eliza," I said."You may have dreamed it, in your 'fainting' attack. But if it istrue, the metal rod and the hole in the wall will show it."
Eliza looked a little bit sheepish.
"The hole's there all right, Miss Innes," she said. "But the bar wasgone when Mary Anne and Rosie went up to pack my trunk."
"That wasn't all," Liddy's voice came funereally from a corner. "Elizasaid that from the hole in the wall a burning eye looked down at her!"
"The wall must be at least six inches thick," I said with asperity."Unless the person who drilled the hole carried his eyes on the ends ofa stick, Eliza couldn't possibly have seen them."
But the fact remained, and a visit to Eliza's room proved it. I mightjeer all I wished: some one had drilled a hole in the unfinished wallof the ball-room, passing between the bricks of the partition, andshooting through the unresisting plaster of Eliza's room with suchforce as to send the rod flying on to her bed. I had gone up-stairsalone, and I confess the thing puzzled me: in two or three places inthe wall small apertures had been made, none of them of any depth. Notthe least mysterious thing was the disappearance of the iron implementthat had been used.
I remembered a story I read once about an impish dwarf that lived inthe spaces between the double walls of an ancient castle. I wonderedvaguely if my original idea of a secret entrance to a hidden chambercould be right, after all, and if we were housing some erratic guest,who played pranks on us in the dark, and destroyed the walls that hemight listen, hidden safely away, to our amazed investigations.
Mary Anne and Eliza left that afternoon, but Rosie decided to stay. Itwas about five o'clock when the hack came from the station to get them,and, to my amazement, it had an occupant. Matthew Geist, the driver,asked for me, and explained his errand with pride.
"I've brought you a cook, Miss Innes," he said. "When the message cameto come up for two girls and their trunks, I supposed there wassomething doing, and as this here woman had been looking for work inthe village, I thought I'd bring her along."
Already I had acquired the true suburbanite ability to take servants onfaith; I no longer demanded written and unimpeachable references. I,Rachel Innes, have learned not to mind if the cook sits downcomfortably in my sitting-room when she is taking the orders for theday, and I am grateful if the silver is not cleaned with scouring soap.And so that day I merely told Liddy to send the new applicant in. Whenshe came, however, I could hardly restrain a gasp of surprise. It wasthe woman with the pitted face.
She stood somewhat awkwardly just inside the door, and she had an airof self-confidence that was inspiring. Yes, she could cook; was not afancy cook, but could make good soups and desserts if there was any oneto take charge of the salads. And so, in the end, I took her. AsHalsey said, when we told him, it didn't matter much about the cook'sface, if it was clean.
I have spoken of Halsey's restlessness. On that day it seemed to bemore than ever a resistless impulse that kept him out until afterluncheon. I think he hoped constantly that he might meet Louisedriving over the hills in her runabout: possibly he did meet heroccasionally, but from his continued gloom I felt sure the situationbetween them was unchanged.
Part of the afternoon I believe he read--Gertrude and I were out, as Ihave said, and at dinner we both noticed that something had occurred todistract him. He was disagreeable, which is unlike him, nervous,looking at his watch every few minutes, and he ate almost nothing. Heasked twice during the meal on what train Mr. Jamieson and the otherdetective were coming, and had long periods of abstraction during whichhe dug his fork into my damask cloth and did not hear when he wasspoken to. He refused dessert, and left the table early, excusinghimself on the ground that he wanted to see Alex.
Alex, however, was not to be found. It was after eight when Halseyordered the car, and started down the hill at a pace that, even forhim, was unusually reckless. Shortly after, Alex reported that he wasready to go over the house, preparatory to closing it for the night.Sam Bohannon came at a quarter before nine, and began his patrol of thegrounds, and with the arrival of the two detectives to look forward to,I was not especially apprehensive.
At half-past nine I heard the sound of a horse driven furiously up thedrive. It came to a stop in front of the house, and immediately afterthere were hurried steps on the veranda. Our nerves were not what theyshould have been, and Gertrude, always apprehensive lately, was at thedoor almost instantly. A moment later Louise had burst into the roomand stood there bar
eheaded and breathing hard!
"Where is Halsey?" she demanded. Above her plain black gown her eyeslooked big and somber, and the rapid drive had brought no color to herface. I got up and drew forward a chair.
"He has not come back," I said quietly. "Sit down, child; you are notstrong enough for this kind of thing."
I don't think she even heard me.
"He has not come back?" she asked, looking from me to Gertrude. "Do youknow where he went? Where can I find him?"
"For Heaven's sake, Louise," Gertrude burst out, "tell us what iswrong. Halsey is not here. He has gone to the station for Mr.Jamieson. What has happened?"
"To the station, Gertrude? You are sure?"
"Yes," I said. "Listen. There is the whistle of the train now."
She relaxed a little at our matter-of-fact tone, and allowed herself tosink into a chair.
"Perhaps I was wrong," she said heavily. "He--will be here in a fewmoments if--everything is right."
We sat there, the three of us, without attempt at conversation. BothGertrude and I recognized the futility of asking Louise any questions:her reticence was a part of a role she had assumed. Our ears werestrained for the first throb of the motor as it turned into the driveand commenced the climb to the house. Ten minutes passed, fifteen,twenty. I saw Louise's hands grow rigid as they clutched the arms ofher chair. I watched Gertrude's bright color slowly ebbing away, andaround my own heart I seemed to feel the grasp of a giant hand.
Twenty-five minutes, and then a sound. But it was not the chug of themotor: it was the unmistakable rumble of the Casanova hack. Gertrudedrew aside the curtain and peered into the darkness.
"It's the hack, I am sure," she said, evidently relieved. "Somethinghas gone wrong with the car, and no wonder--the way Halsey went downthe hill."
It seemed a long time before the creaking vehicle came to a stop at thedoor. Louise rose and stood watching, her hand to her throat. Andthen Gertrude opened the door, admitting Mr. Jamieson and a stocky,middle-aged man. Halsey was not with them. When the door had closedand Louise realized that Halsey had not come, her expression changed.From tense watchfulness to relief, and now again to absolute despair,her face was an open page.
"Halsey?" I asked unceremoniously, ignoring the stranger. "Did he notmeet you?"
"No." Mr. Jamieson looked slightly surprised. "I rather expected thecar, but we got up all right."
"You didn't see him at all?" Louise demanded breathlessly.
Mr. Jamieson knew her at once, although he had not seen her before.She had kept to her rooms until the morning she left.
"No, Miss Armstrong," he said. "I saw nothing of him. What is wrong?"
"Then we shall have to find him," she asserted. "Every instant isprecious. Mr. Jamieson, I have reason for believing that he is indanger, but I don't know what it is. Only--he must be found."
The stocky man had said nothing. Now, however, he went quickly towardthe door.
"I'll catch the hack down the road and hold it," he said. "Is thegentleman down in the town?"
"Mr. Jamieson," Louise said impulsively, "I can use the hack. Take myhorse and trap outside and drive like mad. Try to find the DragonFly--it ought to be easy to trace. I can think of no other way. Only,don't lose a moment."
The new detective had gone, and a moment later Jamieson went rapidlydown the drive, the cob's feet striking fire at every step. Louisestood looking after them. When she turned around she faced Gertrude,who stood indignant, almost tragic, in the hall.
"You KNOW what threatens Halsey, Louise," she said accusingly. "Ibelieve you know this whole horrible thing, this mystery that we arestruggling with. If anything happens to Halsey, I shall never forgiveyou."
Louise only raised her hands despairingly and dropped them again.
"He is as dear to me as he is to you," she said sadly. "I tried towarn him."
"Nonsense!" I said, as briskly as I could. "We are making a lot oftrouble out of something perhaps very small. Halsey was probablylate--he is always late. Any moment we may hear the car coming up theroad."
But it did not come. After a half-hour of suspense, Louise went outquietly, and did not come back. I hardly knew she was gone until Iheard the station hack moving off. At eleven o'clock the telephonerang. It was Mr. Jamieson.
"I have found the Dragon Fly, Miss Innes," he said. "It has collidedwith a freight car on the siding above the station. No, Mr. Innes wasnot there, but we shall probably find him. Send Warner for the car."
But they did not find him. At four o'clock the next morning we werestill waiting for news, while Alex watched the house and Sam thegrounds. At daylight I dropped into exhausted sleep. Halsey had notcome back, and there was no word from the detective.