CHAPTER XX
A TRIPLE ALLIANCE
Larry refused to share my quarters and chose a roomfor himself, which Bates fitted up out of the housestores. I did not know what Bates might surmise aboutLarry, but he accepted my friend in good part, as aguest who would remain indefinitely. He seemed to interestLarry, whose eyes followed the man inquiringly.When we went into Bates’ room on our tour of thehouse, Larry scanned the books on a little shelf withsomething more than a casual eye. There were exactlyfour volumes,—Shakespeare’s Comedies, The FaerieQueen, Sterne’s Sentimental Journey and Yeats’ Landof Heart’s Desire.
“A queer customer, Larry. Nobody but my grandfathercould ever have discovered him—he found himup in Vermont.”
“I suppose his being a bloomin’ Yankee naturally accountsfor this,” remarked Larry, taking from under thepillow of the narrow iron bed a copy of the DublinFreeman’s Journal.
“It is a little odd,” I said. “But if you found a Yiddishnewspaper or an Egyptian papyrus under his pillowI should not be surprised.”
“Nor I,” said Larry. “I’ll wager that not anothershelf in this part of the world contains exactly that collectionof books, and nothing else. You will notice thatthere was once a book-plate in each of these volumes andthat it’s been scratched out with care.”
On a small table were pen and ink and a curiousmuch-worn portfolio.
“He always gets the mail first, doesn’t he?” askedLarry.
“Yes, I believe he does.”
“I thought so; and I’ll swear he never got a letterfrom Vermont in his life.”
When we went down Bates was limping about thelibrary, endeavoring to restore order.
“Bates,” I said to him, “you are a very curious person.I have had a thousand and one opinions about yousince I came here, and I still don’t make you out.”
He turned from the shelves, a defaced volume in hishands.
“Yes, sir. It was a good deal that way with your lamentedgrandfather. He always said I puzzled him.”
Larry, safe behind the fellow’s back, made no attemptto conceal a smile.
“I want to thank you for your heroic efforts to protectthe house last night. You acted nobly, and I mustconfess, Bates, that I didn’t think it was in you. You’vegot the right stuff in you; I’m only sorry that there areblack pages in your record that I can’t reconcile withyour manly conduct of last night. But we’ve got tocome to an understanding.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The most outrageous attacks have been made on mesince I came here. You know what I mean well enough.Mr. Glenarm never intended that I should sit down inhis house and be killed or robbed. He was the gentlestbeing that ever lived, and I’m going to fight for hismemory and to protect his property from the scoundrelswho have plotted against me. I hope you follow me.”
“Yes, Mr. Glenarm.” He was regarding me attentively.His lips quavered, perhaps from weakness, forhe certainly looked ill.
“Now I offer you your choice,—either to stand loyallyby me and my grandfather’s house or to join thesescoundrels Arthur Pickering has hired to drive me out.I’m not going to bribe you,—I don’t offer you a cent forstanding by me, but I won’t have a traitor in the house,and if you don’t like me or my terms I want you to goand go now.”
He straightened quickly,—his eyes lighted and thecolor crept into his face. I had never before seen himappear so like a human being.
“Mr. Glenarm, you have been hard on me; there havebeen times when you have been very unjust—”
“Unjust,—my God, what do you expect me totake from you! Haven’t I known that you were inleague with Pickering? I’m not as dull as I look, andafter your interview with Pickering in the chapel porchyou can’t convince me that you were faithful to my interestsat that time.”
He started and gazed at me wonderingly. I had hadno intention of using the chapel porch interview at thistime, but it leaped out of me uncontrollably.
“I suppose, sir,” he began brokenly, “that I can hardlypersuade you that I meant no wrong on that occasion.”
“You certainly can not,—and it’s safer for you notto try. But I’m willing to let all that go as a rewardfor your work last night. Make your choice now; stayhere and stop your spying or clear out of Annandalewithin an hour.”
He took a step toward me; the table was between usand he drew quite near but stood clear of it, erect untilthere was something almost soldierly and commandingin his figure.
“By God, I will stand by you, John Glenarm!” hesaid, and struck the table smartly with his clenchedhand.
He flushed instantly, and I felt the blood mountinginto my own face as we gazed at each other,—he, Bates,the servant, and I, his master! He had always addressedme so punctiliously with the “sir” of respect that hisdeclaration of fealty, spoken with so sincere and vigorousan air of independence, and with the bold emphasisof the oath, held me spellbound, staring at him. Thesilence was broken by Larry, who sprang forward andgrasped Bates’ hand.
“I, too, Bates,” I said, feeling my heart leap withliking, even with admiration for the real manhood thatseemed to transfigure this hireling,—this fellow whom Ihad charged with most infamous treachery, this servantwho had cared for my needs in so humble a spirit ofsubjection.
The knocker on the front door sounded peremptorily,and Bates turned away without another word, and admittedStoddard, who came in hurriedly.
“Merry Christmas!” in his big hearty tones washardly consonant with the troubled look on his face. Iintroduced him to Larry and asked him to sit down.
“Pray excuse our disorder,—we didn’t do it for fun;it was one of Santa Claus’ tricks.”
He stared about wonderingly.
“So you caught it, too, did you?”
“To be sure. You don’t mean to say that they raidedthe chapel?”
“That’s exactly what I mean to say. When I wentinto the church for my early service I found that someone had ripped off the wainscoting in a half a dozenplaces and even pried up the altar. It’s the most outrageousthing I ever knew. You’ve heard of the proverbialpoverty of the church mouse,—what do you supposeanybody could want to raid a simple little countrychapel for? And more curious yet, the church platewas untouched, though the closet where it’s kept wasupset, as though the miscreants had been looking forsomething they didn’t find.”
Stoddard was greatly disturbed, and gazed about thetopsy-turvy library with growing indignation.
We drew together for a council of war. Here was anopportunity to enlist a new recruit on my side. I alreadyfelt stronger by reason of Larry’s accession; as toBates, my mind was still numb and bewildered.
“Larry, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t join forceswith Mr. Stoddard, as he seems to be affected by thisstruggle. We owe it to him and the school to put himon guard, particularly since we know that Ferguson’swith the enemy.”
“Yes, certainly,” said Larry.
He always liked or disliked new people unequivocally,and I was glad to see that he surveyed the big clergymanwith approval.
“I’ll begin at the beginning,” I said, “and tell youthe whole story.”
He listened quietly to the end while I told him of myexperience with Morgan, of the tunnel into the chapelcrypt, and finally of the affair in the night and our interviewwith Bates.
“I feel like rubbing my eyes and accusing you ofreading penny-horrors,” he said. “That doesn’t soundlike the twentieth century in Indiana.”
“But Ferguson,—you’d better have a care in his direction.Sister Theresa—”
“Bless your heart! Ferguson’s gone—without notice.He got his traps and skipped without saying a word toany one.”
“We’ll hear from him again, no doubt. Now, gentlemen,I believe we understand one another. I don’t liketo draw you, either one of you, into my private affairs—”
The big chaplain laughed.
“Glenarm,”—prefixes went out of commission quicklythat morning,—”if you hadn’t let me
in on this Ishould never have got over it. Why, this is a page outof the good old times! Bless me! I never appreciatedyour grandfather! I must run—I have another service.But I hope you gentlemen will call on me, day or night,for anything I can do to help you. Please don’t forgetme. I had the record once for putting the shot.”
“Why not give our friend escort through the tunnel?”asked Larry. “I’ll not hesitate to say that I’m dyingto see it.”
“To be sure!” We went down into the cellar, andpoked over the lantern and candlestick collections, andI pointed out the exact spot where Morgan and I hadindulged in our revolver duel. It was fortunate thatthe plastered walls of the cellar showed clearly the cutsand scars of the pistol-balls or I fear my story wouldhave fallen on incredulous ears.
The debris I had piled upon the false block of stonein the cellar lay as I had left it, but the three of usquickly freed the trap. The humor of the thing tookstrong hold of my new allies, and while I was getting alantern to light us through the passage Larry sat on theedge of the trap and howled a few bars of a wild Irishjig. We set forth at once and found the passage unchanged.When the cold air blew in upon us I paused.
“Have you gentlemen the slightest idea of whereyou are?”
“We must be under the school-grounds, I should say,”replied Stoddard.
“We’re exactly under the stone wall. Those tall postsat the gate are a scheme for keeping fresh air in thepassage.”
“You certainly have all the modern improvements,”observed Larry, and I heard him chuckling all the wayto the crypt door.
When I pushed the panel open and we stepped outinto the crypt Stoddard whistled and Larry sworesoftly.
“It must be for something!” exclaimed the chaplain.“You don’t suppose Mr. Glenarm built a secret passagejust for the fun of it, do you? He must have had somepurpose. Why, I sleep out here within forty yards ofwhere we stand and I never had the slightest idea ofthis.”
“But other people seem to know of it,” observedLarry.
“To be sure; the curiosity of the whole countrysidewas undoubtedly piqued by the building of GlenarmHouse. The fact that workmen were brought from adistance was in itself enough to arouse interest. Morganseems to have discovered the passage without anytrouble.”
“More likely it was Ferguson. He was the sexton ofthe church and had a chance to investigate,” said Stoddard.“And now, gentlemen, I must go to my service.I’ll see you again before the day is over.”
“And we make no confidences!” I admonished.
“‘Sdeath!—I believe that is the proper expression underall the circumstances.” And the Reverend PaulStoddard laughed, clasped my hand and went up intothe chapel vestry.
I closed the door in the wainscoting and hung themap back in place.
We went up into the little chapel and found a smallcompany of worshipers assembled,—a few people fromthe surrounding farms, half a dozen Sisters sitting somberlynear the chancel and the school servants.
Stoddard came out into the chancel, lighted the altartapers and began the Anglican communion office. I hadforgotten what a church service was like; and Larry, Ifelt sure, had not attended church since the last timehis family had dragged him to choral vespers.
It was comforting to know that here was, at least, oneplace of peace within reach of Glenarm House. But Imay be forgiven, I hope, if my mind wandered thatmorning, and my thoughts played hide-and-seek withmemory. For it was here, in the winter twilight, thatMarian Devereux had poured out her girl’s heart in agreat flood of melody. I was glad that the organ wasclosed; it would have wrung my heart to hear a notefrom it that her hands did not evoke.
When we came out upon the church porch and I stoodon the steps to allow Larry to study the grounds, one ofthe brown-robed Sisterhood spoke my name.
It was Sister Theresa.
“Can you come in for a moment?” she asked.
“I will follow at once,” I said.
She met me in the reception-room where I had seenher before.
“I’m sorry to trouble you on Christmas Day with myaffairs, but I have had a letter from Mr. Pickering, sayingthat he will he obliged to bring suit for settlementof my account with Mr. Glenarm’s estate. I needn’tsay that this troubles me greatly. In my position a lawsuitis uncomfortable; it would do a real harm to theschool. Mr. Pickering implies in a very disagreeableway that I exercised an undue influence over Mr. Glenarm.You can readily understand that that is not apleasant accusation.”
“He is going pretty far,” I said.
“He gives me credit for a degree of power over othersthat I regret to say I do not possess. He thinks, for instance,that I am responsible for Miss Devereux’s attitudetoward him,—something that I have had nothingwhatever to do with.”
“No, of course not.”
“I’m glad you have no harsh feeling toward her. Itwas unfortunate that Mr. Glenarm saw fit to mentionher in his will. It has given her a great deal of notoriety,and has doubtless strengthened the impression insome minds that she and I really plotted to get as muchas possible of your grandfather’s estate.”
“No one would regret all this more than my grandfather,—I am sure of that. There are many inexplicablethings about his affairs. It seems hardly possiblethat a man so shrewd as he, and so thoughtful of thefeelings of others, should have left so many loose endsbehind him. But I assure you I am giving my wholeattention to these matters, and I am wholly at yourservice in anything I can do to help you.”
“I sincerely hope that nothing may interfere to preventyour meeting Mr. Glenarm’s wish that you remainthrough the year. That was a curious and whimsicalprovision, but it is not, I imagine, so difficult.”
She spoke in a kindly tone of encouragement thatmade me feel uneasy and almost ashamed for havingalready forfeited my claim under the will. Her beautifulgray eyes disconcerted me; I had not the heart todeceive her.
“I have already made it impossible for me to inheritunder the will,” I said.
The disappointment in her face rebuked me sharply.
“I am sorry, very sorry, indeed,” she said coldly.“But how, may I ask?”
“I ran away, last night. I went to Cincinnati to seeMiss Devereux.”
She rose, staring in dumb astonishment, and after afull minute in which I tried vainly to think of somethingto say, I left the house.
There is nothing in the world so tiresome as explanations,and I have never in my life tried to make themwithout floundering into seas of trouble.