CHAPTER XII.
THE NIGHT IN MORELAND VILLA.
Mr. Burton's arrival prevented my fulfilling the intention of sleepingat Moreland villa that night; I immediately resolved to defer myexplorations until he could keep me company. The next day he came to myroom, and we had, as usual when we met, a long talk over things past,present and to come. I did not introduce the subject of the mystery atthe villa until we had discussed many other matters. My companion waspreoccupied with important business of his own--the same which hadtaken him to Boston; but his interest was pledged, almost as earnestlyas mine, to unmask the criminal of the Blankville tragedy, and anyreference to that sad subject was sure to secure his attention. Baffledwe acknowledged ourselves, as we talked together that morning, but notdiscouraged. Mr. Burton told me that he was on the track of twofive-hundred-dollar bills of the Park Bank, which had left the city theweek after the murder, taking widely-different flights; there had onecome back from St. Louis, whose course his agents were tracing. As forthe sewing-girl, she had the power of vanishing utterly, like a lightextinguished, leaving no trace behind, and her pursuers literally inthe dark. This comparison of the detective reminded me of the curiouslight which had led me, like a Jack-o'-lantern, into a quagmire ofuncertainty; I was about to begin my account of it, when he gave me oneof those peculiar piercing looks of his, saying,
"You have not yet entered into the contemplated partnership?"
"No, Mr. Burton; and I hardly think now that I shall."
There was some bitterness in my tone; he evinced no surprise, asking,simply,
"Why?"
"I think James has been chosen to fill the place."
"But, he has not been admitted to the bar."
"He is studying a little recently; probably in order to pass anexamination."
"The wind is changing," said Mr. Burton, speaking like the oldgentleman in Bleak House. "I see how the land lies. The goodly andnoble Argyll ship is driving on to the rocks. Mark my words, she willgo to pieces soon! you will see her ruins strewing the shore."
"I pray heaven to avert your prophecy. I hope not to live to see anysuch sight."
"How can it be otherwise?" he exclaimed, rising and pacing to and frothrough my little room, like a caged elephant. "A spendthrift and agambler--a man like _that_--about to have the helm put in his hands!But it's none of my business--none of my business; nor much yours,either."
"It is mine!" I cried; "I can not help but make it mine, as if thesegirls were my sisters, and Mr. Argyll my father. Yet, as you say--itis, indeed, nothing to me. They will not allow it to be!"
I drooped my head on my arms; my own loss and disappointment werereceding into the background before the idea of their possiblediscomfiture. I was startled by the detective bringing his clenchedhand down upon the table with a blow which shook it; he was standing,looking not at me, but at the wall, as if he saw some one before him,invisible to me.
"James Argyll is a singular man--a _singular_ man! A person ought to bea panther in cunning and strength to cope with him. By George, if Idon't look out, he'll overreach me yet--with that will of his. I seeeverybody about me succumbing. He's having the game all in his ownhands. By the way, Redfield, I was a little surprised to see Lenore sofond of him."
"Why so, Mr. Burton? James is an attractive, elegant young man; he hasnever had any lack of admirers. It would rather have been strange ifyour daughter had _not_ fancied him. He has been very good to her."
"He has, indeed; I'm sure I ought to be greatly obliged to all of you.Did I ever tell you that I place great confidence in Lenore's intuitiveperception of character? You know that I have a remarkable gift thatway myself. When I meet people, I seem to see their minds, and nottheir bodies--I can't help it. Well, I've remarked the same thing in mychild. She is so young and inexperienced that she can not explain herown impressions; she has her instantaneous partialities, and I havenoticed that she leans toward true natures like a flower toward thelight, and away from the false as if they were shadows. I hardlyexpected she would be so intimate with young Argyll."
I remembered the curious effect his first address had made upon her;but I did not repeat it to her father. I was sensitive about appearingin any manner jealous of James; if he could win my friends from me,even that little girl whom I had loved for her pure sweetness, let themgo! I was too proud to solicit them to reconsider their opinions.
"Do you know," continued my companion, "he is performing a marvel withmy little Lenore? He has gained a great ascendancy over her in thesefew days. This morning, for a purpose which you will realize Iconsidered highly important, I endeavored, alone with her in my ownapartment, to place her in the clairvoyant state. For the first time, Ifailed. Her mind is no longer a pellucid mirror, reflecting truthswithout color or refraction. She is under the influence of acounter-will, as strong as my own--and mine moves mountains," he added,with a laugh.
"I shouldn't think you would like it."
"I don't; but she is going home to-morrow. I will tell you why I wishedto procure Lenore's aid again. I have succeeded in tracing LeesySullivan to this village. She came here the day after we frightened herfrom Brooklyn--that is, she got off the cars at a little station aboutsix miles from here, not daring to land at this depot, and, I have nodoubt, started on foot for Blankville, coming here in the night."
"That aunt of hers is in the work," I exclaimed. "We are justified intaking any step to compel her to own up where she conceals that girl."
"I am convinced that her aunt knows nothing whatever about her. HasMrs. Scott kept a sharp lookout at the villa?"
"She has not seen her since that first day; and I believe it would bedifficult for her to set her foot on the place without beingdiscovered, for the woman has got it into her head that the place ishaunted, and she is on guard night and day."
"Haunted?"
Mr. Burton sat down and drew up his chair with an appearance ofinterest, which led me to recount our experiences at the villa, and myintention of completing my researches that night, in his company, if hehad no objection. He said, "Of course; it would give him pleasure; heliked nothing better than an adventure of the kind."
In fact, the idea evidently pleased him immensely; his face brightened,and after that, for the rest of the day, for the first time in ourbrief acquaintance, I saw him a little flurried and expectant. One ofhis mottoes was:
"Learn to labor, and to _wait_."
His was one of those minds which would have kept silence seven years,rather than speak a moment too soon; he was seldom in a hurry, nomatter what was at stake; but the fancy for lying _perdu_ in a hauntedhouse, to "nab" a ghost, was a novelty in his detective experience,which inwardly amused him.
He smiled to himself more than once during the intervening hours. Assoon as tea was over, we excused ourselves to the family, kissedLenore, and, saying that Mr. Burton would stay with me all night, wetook our departure. I left the conduct of the proceedings in his hands.When we reached the cottage, we found Mrs. Scott disposed to regard thenon-fulfillment of my engagement on the previous night as proof that Iwas frightened from the pursuit; she accepted my excuse, however, andhighly approved of my having a companion in the spiritual dangers whichI was about to encounter. She made us, moreover, some of her excellentcoffee, to aid us in keeping awake, and gave us her prayers for ourprotection along with the keys of the house.
"Treat a ghost as you would any other burglar," said my companion, aswe approached the villa, in the darkness, by the back entrance. "Steala march on him if you can."
It was a wild night for an enterprise like ours. It reminded me of thatnight upon which Henry Moreland was murdered. One of those suddenchanges in the weather, common to our climate, had been transpiringthrough the day, and now the warm, wild wind which brings in the"January thaw," was blowing about the place, making every loose boardcreak, and rubbing the bare branches of the trees against each otherwith a grating sound. Black clouds, wit
h ragged edges, skurried alongthe air, with the large stars looking down between, with wide, brighteyes, as of fear. While we stood outside, the great drops began topatter down; and presently it was raining violently, as it rained_that_ night. As gently as if he were a robber making a feloniousentrance, Mr. Burton turned the key in the lock; we entered the thickdarkness of the house, closed the door, and stole noiselessly, I takingthe lead, along the stairs and corridors, until we came to Henry'sroom. This we entered, and, finding chairs, sat down upon either sidethe little table in absolute silence. But we might safely have knockedover half the furniture without giving alarm to any inmate--had therebeen an inmate of the room or villa--such a tremendous uproar was nowmade by the elements. As the rain dashed fitfully against the windows,and the wind shook the solitary building, I was nearly overpowered withthe memories which the place and the storm so vivified. I was in a fitmood to become a convert to a nocturnal specter--in that hour of gloomand tempest, under the roof of the murdered, the material world seemednot so far removed from the awful and shadowy confines of thespiritual, as it appeared in the common routine of daylight life. As myheart thumped loudly with the agitation of feelings almost too powerfulfor mortal endurance, I was glad to consider that my companion wascool, calm and vigilant. He had no such memories of the wind and rainto overwhelm him as I had; this roof was not the roof of his friend--hedid not know Eleanor.
It was rather impressive to the dullest imagination to be sitting thereat night, in that empty mansion, in the darkness, with the stormbeating around it, waiting for--we knew not what. To me, with my ardenttemperament, and under the peculiar circumstances, it was exciting inthe highest degree.
For a long time there was but one interruption to our silent watch. Mr.Burton leaned over the table, whispering,
"Did you hear some one singing?"
"I heard nothing but the wind, and the creaking of a tree against theside of the house, except the rain, that I would be sure of. Hark!"
I did think I heard a soft, angelic note of music swelling in the airabove me, but at that moment the tempest redoubled its clamor, beatingout all lesser sounds.
"Unless I am mistaken, there was a human voice," he continued, in thesame whisper.
"Or a heavenly one," I murmured.
I believe Mr. Burton said "nonsense!" but I am not certain. Again therewas a long interval of waiting; we both leaned over toward each otherat the same instant, as the sound of something shoved overheadattracted our attentive ears.
"It is rats in the garret," said I. "Mrs. Scott says they are in thehouse."
"I hardly think it was rats; but we will wait a while."
Mr. Burton had brought a lamp and matches, so that we could have alight when we wished it; if we heard any thing more overhead, I knew hewould examine the attic. There was a lull in the rain; as we satexpectant, the pushing sound was shortly followed by a light, regularpatter, as of soft footsteps, along the floor of the garret. I hadheard rats make precisely similar sounds traversing a ceiling; andthough my heart beat a little faster, I was still quite certain it wasthese troublesome vermin.
The next thing which fixed our attention was a glimmer of light. Ithink the most spectral visitant could hardly have affected me as didthat sudden ray of light, shooting through the key-hole and under thebottom of the door. Silently it crept along over the carpet, moving asif the object which threw it was carried in the hand of a personwalking. I do not know exactly what I did expect when it paused infront of the door, except that the door would open, and I shouldsee--the mystery. An instant of suspense--then the flickering lightwavered and moved around to the opposite angle from that at which ithad first appeared--it was going through the corridor and down thestairs.
"All right," breathed my companion, in a scarcely audible whisper."Wait!"
The hand which he laid on my own was cold with excitement. As the lastyellow gleam trembled and disappeared, the elements conspired in agrand attack upon our citadel; we could hear nothing but the roar oftheir artillery--the tramp of their battalions. We waited perhaps fiveminutes.
"Now," and I arose, following Mr. Burton through the darkness, as hesilently opened the door, crossed the corridor, and, leaning over therailing, looked down into the lower hall. We could see nothing, until,as we descended the stairs, a faint effulgence from some distant roompenetrated the obscurity. With cautious steps we followed it up throughthe hall and library, to the family-room, from which, it will berecollected, Mrs. Scott assured me she had heard mysterious noises. Thedoor was open a little distance, but not sufficiently to give us a viewof the interior. As we paused on the threshold, we heard a sigh--adeep, long-drawn, tremulous sigh. With a deft hand my companion pushedthe door ajar, so that we could step in, and we both silently entered.This room, in summer, was the favorite sitting-room of Mrs. Moreland;and here, upon the walls, she had the portraits, life-size, in oil, ofher little family. In front of us, as we stepped in, hung the likenessof Henry Moreland. Before it stood a woman, one hand holding aloft alighted candle, in a small chamber-candlestick, the other pressed uponher heart, as if to keep down those painful signs. Motionless, rapt,absorbed she stood; we made no sound, and if we had, I do not think shewould have heard us; her back was toward us; the light was thrown fullon the picture upon which her gaze was bent.
The woman was Leesy Sullivan. I knew her at once, though her face wasturned from us. Here, at last, we had found the fugitive we sought,haunting the home of the man of whose murder my thoughts accused her,standing before his portrait, in the dead of night, unwitting who werethe witnesses of her secret, as she betrayed it now. How she hadobtained access to the villa, or how long she had been its inmate, Ileft to future inquiry to develop--the present scene was all-engrossing.
A long--long--long time she stood there; we did not interrupt her; itwas probably the expectation that she would utter some soliloquy whichwould be of importance to us, as revealing what was on her mind, whichkept my companion quiet. She said nothing, however; only drawing thosedeep sighs; until, at the last, she set the light on the little tablebeneath the picture, and, lifting up both hands with a passionategesture toward it, sobbed one word--"Henry!"
Then, slowly, as if her eyes refused to leave the object of theirattraction, she began to turn away. We had one instant's glance at herface before she discovered us; there was a burning spot upon eitherthin cheek, and two great tears, frozen, as it were, upon her eyelids;and a tremulous curve to the full, red lips of the tender and beautifulmouth, as if they quivered with grief and love. There was nothing wildor severe about her at that moment. Turning, slowly, she perceived us,standing there in the shadow--two cruel men, hunting her even in thissacred solitude. That was the feeling she gave us by the look whichpassed over her countenance; I felt ashamed and unjustified until Iforced myself to recollect all.
She did not scream; she had passed through too many vicissitudes tobetray any fright; she only turned white, and put her hand on the tableto steady herself.
"You two men have come here at last, have you? Why do you interferewith me? It's only a little while I have to stay, and I want peace."
"Peace only comes with a pure conscience," said Mr. Burton, sternly."What are you doing in this house?"
"I know I have no right here; but where else will you let me stay? Noteven by his grave--no, not even by his grave! You want to drag me forthbefore the world, to expose my foolish secret, which I have hidden fromeverybody--to put me in prison--to murder me! This is the business ofyou two men; and you have the power, I suppose. I am so poor andfriendless it makes me a fit object for your persecution. Well, if youcan justify yourselves, do as you will with me!"
She folded her hands, looking us full in the face with eyes whichabsolutely blazed.
"If you had no guilty secret, why did you fly from friends and enemies?Why did you not seek an interview and explanation which would have beensatisfactory to us?" asked Mr. Burton.
"You would not believe me if I told you the reason," scornfully. "It is
not in the minds of men--the gross, suspicious minds of men--toconceive or credit my excuse. I will not make it to such people."
Really, there was a majesty about the girl which quite awed me. As sheconfronted us, the undaunted spirit sparkling through her slight,wasted face and form, compelled a sort of acquiescence in me. I was notthe one to subdue or handle this powerful nature. Mr. Burton was.
"This is not the proper hour, nor the proper place, to enter intoexplanations, Miss Sullivan. You must go with me to Mrs. Scott'scottage; she will care for you until morning, and then we will have atalk together. You will not find me harsh; nor shall I take any stepwithout good cause. All I want is the truth--and that I am bound tohave."
"Let me stay here to-night; I promise you I will not attempt to leavethe place. I will wait here until you see fit to come in the morning."
"I can not; there is too much at stake," he said, with determination.
"Then let me go and get the child," she said.
She took up the lamp and we followed her; up and along the garretstaircase, mounting the narrow steps which led into the attic. There,upon the pile of mattresses which I have mentioned as lying in thecorner, reposed the baby girl before spoken of, sleeping sweetly, asonly infancy can rest.
"We were under this when you paid us a visit the other day," saidLeesy, with a sort of bitter smile. "I had hard work to keep baby fromcrying out. She did make a fuss at last; you said it was a cat."
"How sound the little creature sleeps," said the detective. He had agentle heart, which shrunk from disturbing the slumbering infant.
"It's too bad to startle her up so," murmured her nurse.
"Yes, it is. I'll tell you what we will do. We will lock you up here,and keep guard in the chamber until morning, if that pleases you."
"I don't care to take Norah out in the storm."
"Tell me one thing," said Mr. Burton, his bright eye fixing itself onher own; "are you the mother of that babe?"
For a moment she answered his look with one of astonishment; then therosy blood rushed up to neck, cheek and brow--a virgin blush, whichshowed all the soft and girlish side of her character.
"Am I Norah's mother?" she repeated. "I thought you knew I was not amarried woman."
The detective stood, a little embarrassed by the perfect simplicity ofher reply.
"It is understood to be your deceased cousin's child--an orphan, Ibelieve," he said. "Well, Miss Sullivan, we will leave you here,undisturbed, for the remainder of the night."
We descended to the second floor, turning the key of the littlestore-room which inclosed the garret staircase, well satisfied to keepguard until morning, since we had secured the mysterious inmate of thehaunted house.