The House of a Thousand Candles Part 16

"I suppose, sir," he began brokenly, "that I can hardly persuade you that I meant no wrong on that occasion."

"You certainly can not--and it's safer for you not to try. But I'm willing to let all that go as a reward for your work last night. Make your choice now; stay here and stop your spying or clear out of Annandale within an hour."

He took a step toward me; the table was between us and he drew quite near but stood clear of it, erect until there was something almost soldierly and commanding in his figure.

"By G.o.d, I will stand by you, John Glenarm!" he said, and struck the table smartly with his clenched hand.

He flushed instantly, and I felt the blood mounting into my own face as we gazed at each other--he, Bates, the servant, and I, his master! He had always addressed me so punctiliously with the "sir" of respect that his declaration of fealty, spoken with so sincere and vigorous an air of independence, and with the bold emphasis of the oath, held me spellbound, staring at him. The silence was broken by Larry, who sprang forward and grasped Bates' hand.

"I, too, Bates," I said, feeling my heart leap with liking, even with admiration for the real manhood that seemed to transfigure this hireling--this fellow whom I had charged with most infamous treachery, this servant who had cared for my needs in so humble a spirit of subjection.

The knocker on the front door sounded peremptorily, and Bates turned away without another word, and admitted Stoddard, who came in hurriedly.

"Merry Christmas!" in his big hearty tones was hardly consonant with the troubled look on his face. I introduced 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 raided the chapel?"

"That's exactly what I mean to say. When I went into the church for my early service I found that some one had ripped off the wainscoting in a half a dozen places and even pried up the altar. It's the most outrageous thing I ever knew. You've heard of the proverbial poverty of the church mouse--what do you suppose anybody could want to raid a simple little country chapel for? And more curious yet, the church plate was untouched, though the closet where it's kept was upset, as though the miscreants had been looking for something they didn't find."

Stoddard was greatly disturbed, and gazed about the topsy-turvy library with growing indignation.

We drew together for a council of war. Here was an opportunity to enlist a new recruit on my side. I already felt stronger by reason of Larry's accession; as to Bates, my mind was still numb and bewildered.

"Larry, there's no reason why we shouldn't join forces with Mr. Stoddard, as he seems to be affected by this struggle. We owe it to him and the school to put him on guard, particularly since we know that Ferguson's with 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 clergyman with approval.

"I'll begin at the beginning," I said, "and tell you the whole story."

He listened quietly to the end while I told him of my experience with Morgan, of the tunnel into the chapel crypt, and finally of the affair in the night and our interview with Bates.

"I feel like rubbing my eyes and accusing you of reading penny-horrors," he said. "That doesn't sound like 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 to any one."

"We'll hear from him again, no doubt. Now, gentlemen, I believe we understand one another. I don't like to draw you, either one of you, into my private affairs--"

The big chaplain laughed.

"Glenarm,"--prefixes went out of commission quickly that morning--"if you hadn't let me in on this I should never have got over it. Why, this is a page out of the good old times! Bless me! I never appreciated your 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 forget me. 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 dying to see it."

"To be sure!" We went down into the cellar, and poked over the lantern and candlestick collections, and I pointed out the exact spot where Morgan and I had indulged in our revolver duel. It was fortunate that the plastered walls of the cellar showed clearly the cuts and scars of the pistol-b.a.l.l.s or I fear my story would have fallen on incredulous ears.

The debris I had piled upon the false block of stone in the cellar lay as I had left it, but the three of us quickly freed the trap. The humor of the thing took strong hold of my new allies, and while I was getting a lantern to light us through the pa.s.sage Larry sat on the edge of the trap and howled a few bars of a wild Irish jig. We set forth at once and found the pa.s.sage unchanged. When the cold air blew in upon us I paused.

"Have you gentlemen the slightest idea of where you are?"

"We must be under the school-grounds, I should say," replied Stoddard.

"We're exactly under the stone wall. Those tall posts at the gate are a scheme for keeping fresh air in the pa.s.sage."

"You certainly have all the modern improvements," observed Larry, and I heard him chuckling all the way to the crypt door.

When I pushed the panel open and we stepped out into the crypt Stoddard whistled and Larry swore softly.

"It must be for something!" exclaimed the chaplain. "You don't suppose Mr. Glenarm built a secret pa.s.sage just for the fun of it, do you? He must have had some purpose. Why, I sleep out here within forty yards of where we stand and I never had the slightest idea of this."

"But other people seem to know of it," observed Larry.

"To be sure; the curiosity of the whole countryside was undoubtedly piqued by the building of Glenarm House. The fact that workmen were brought from a distance was in itself enough to arouse interest. Morgan seems to have discovered the pa.s.sage without any trouble."

"More likely it was Ferguson. He was the s.e.xton of the 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 under all the circ.u.mstances." And the Reverend Paul Stoddard laughed, clasped my hand and went up into the chapel vestry.

I closed the door in the wainscoting and hung the map back in place.

We went up into the little chapel and found a small company of wors.h.i.+pers a.s.sembled--a few people from the surrounding farms, half a dozen Sisters sitting somberly near the chancel and the school servants.

Stoddard came out into the chancel, lighted the altar tapers and began the Anglican communion office. I had forgotten what a church service was like; and Larry, I felt sure, had not attended church since the last time his family had dragged hint to choral vespers.

It was comforting to know that here was, at least, one place of peace within reach of Glenarm House. But I may be forgiven, I hope, if my mind wandered that morning, and my thoughts played hide-and-seek with memory. For it was here, in the winter twilight, that Marian Devereux had poured out her girl's heart in a great flood of melody. I was glad that the organ was closed; it would have wrung my heart to hear a note from it that her hands did not evoke.

When we came out upon the church porch and I stood on the steps to allow Larry to study the grounds, one of the 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 seen her before.

"I'm sorry to trouble you on Christmas Day with my affairs, but I have had a letter from Mr. Pickering, saying that he will he obliged to bring suit for settlement of my account with Mr. Glenarm's estate. I needn't say that this troubles me greatly. In my position a lawsuit is uncomfortable; it would do a real harm to the school. Mr. Pickering implies in a very disagreeable way that I exercised an undue influence over Mr. Glenarm. You can readily understand that that is not a pleasant accusation."

"He is going pretty far," I said.

"He gives me credit for a degree of power over others that I regret to say I do not possess. He thinks, for instance, that I am responsible for Miss Devereux's att.i.tude toward him--something that I have had nothing whatever to do with."

"No, of course not."

"I'm glad you have no harsh feeling toward her. It was unfortunate that Mr. Glenarm saw fit to mention her in his will. It has given her a great deal of notoriety, and has doubtless strengthened the impression in some minds that she and I really plotted to get as much as possible of your grandfather's estate."

"No one would regret all this more than my grandfather, --I am sure of that. There are many inexplicable things about his affairs. It seems hardly possible that a man so shrewd as he, and so thoughtful of the feelings of others, should have left so many loose ends behind him. But I a.s.sure you I am giving my whole attention to these matters, and I am wholly at your service in anything I can do to help you."

"I sincerely hope that nothing may interfere to prevent your meeting Mr. Glenarm's wish that you remain through the year. That was a curious and whimsical provision, but it is not, I imagine, so difficult."

She spoke in a kindly tone of encouragement that made me feel uneasy and almost ashamed for having already forfeited my claim under the will. Her beautiful gray eyes disconcerted me; I had not the heart to deceive her.

"I have already made it impossible for me to inherit under 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 see Miss Devereux."

She rose, staring in dumb astonishment, and after a full minute in which I tried vainly to think of something to 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 them without floundering into seas of trouble.

CHAPTER XXI.

PICKERING SERVES NOTICE.

The next morning Bates placed a letter postmarked Cincinnati at my plate. I opened and read it aloud to Larry: On Board the Heloise December 25, 1901. John Glenarm, Esq., Glenarm House, Annandale, Wabana Co., Indiana: DEAR SIR--I have just learned from what I believe to be a trustworthy source that you have already violated the terms of the agreement under which you entered into residence on the property near Annandale, known as Glenarm House. The provisions of the will of John Marshall Glenarm are plain and unequivocal, as you undoubtedly understood when you accepted them, and your absence, not only from the estate itself, but from Wabana County, violates beyond question your right to inherit. I, as executor, therefore demand that you at once vacate said property, leaving it in as good condition as when received by you. Very truly yours, Arthur Pickering, Executor of the Estate of John Marshall Glenarm.

"Very truly the devil's," growled Larry, snapping his cigarette case viciously.

"How did he find out?" I asked lamely, but my heart sank like lead. Had Marian Devereux told him! How else could he know?

"Probably from the stars--the whole universe undoubtedly saw you skipping off to meet your lady-love. Bah, these women!"

"Tut! They don't all marry the sons of brewers," I retorted. "You a.s.sured me once, while your affair with that Irish girl was on, that the short upper lip made Heaven seem possible, but unnecessary; then the next thing I knew she had shaken you for the bloated masher. Take that for your impertinence. But perhaps it was Bates?"

I did not wait for an answer. I was not in a mood for reflection or nice distinctions. The man came in just then with a fresh plate of toast.

"Bates, Mr. Pickering has learned that I was away from the house on the night of the attack, and I'm ordered off for having broken my agreement to stay here. How do you suppose he heard of it so promptly?"

"From Morgan, quite possibly. I have a letter from Mr. Pickering myself this morning. Just a moment, sir."

He placed before me a note bearing the same date as my own. It was a sharp rebuke of Bates for his failure to report my absence, and he was ordered to prepare to leave on the first of February. "Close your accounts at the shopkeepers' and I will audit your bills on my arrival."

The tone was peremptory and contemptuous. Bates had failed to satisfy Pickering and was flung off like a smoked-out cigar.

"How much had he allowed you for expenses, Bates?"

He met my gaze imperturbably.

"He paid me fifty dollars a month as wages, sir, and I was allowed seventy-five for other expenses."

"But you didn't buy English pheasants and champagne on that allowance!"

He was carrying away the coffee tray and his eyes wandered to the windows.

"Not quite, sir. You see--"

"But I don't see!"

"It had occurred to me that as Mr. Pickering's allowance wasn't what you might call generous it was better to augment it--Well, sir, I took the liberty of advancing a trifle, as you might say, to the estate. Your grandfather would not have had you starve, sir."

He left hurriedly, as though to escape from the consequences of his words, and when I came to myself Larry was gloomily invoking his strange Irish G.o.ds.

"Larry Donovan, I've been tempted to kill that fellow a dozen times! This thing is too d.a.m.ned complicated for me. I wish my lamented grandfather had left me something easy. To think of it--that fellow, after my treatment of him--my cursing and abusing him since I came here! Great Scott, man, I've been enjoying his bounty, I've been living on his money! And all the time he's been trusting in me, just because of his dog-like devotion to my grandfather's memory. Lord, I can't face the fellow again!"

"As I have said before, you're rather lacking at times in perspicacity. Your intelligence is marred by large opaque spots. Now that there's a woman in the case you're less sane than ever. Bah, these women! And now we've got to go to work."

Bah, these women! My own heart caught the words. I was enraged and bitter. No wonder she had been anxious for me to avoid Pickering after daring me to follow her!

We called a council of war for that night that we might view matters in the light of Pickering's letter. His a.s.suredness in ordering me to leave made prompt and decisive action necessary on my part. I summoned Stoddard to our conference, feeling confident of his friendliness.

"Of course," said the broad-shouldered chaplain, "if you could show that your absence was on business of very grave importance, the courts might construe in that you had not really violated the will."

Larry looked at the ceiling and blew rings of smoke languidly. I had not disclosed to either of them the cause of my absence. On such a matter I knew I should get precious little sympathy from Larry, and I had, moreover, a feeling that I could not discuss Marian Devereux with any one; I even shrank from mentioning her name, though it rang like the call of bugles in my blood.

She was always before me--the charmed spirit of youth, linked to every foot of the earth, every gleam of the sun upon the ice-bound lake, every glory of the winter sunset. All the good impulses I had ever stifled were quickened to life by the thought of her. Amid the day's perplexities I started sometimes, thinking I heard her voice, her girlish laughter, or saw her again coming toward me down the stairs, or holding against the light her fan with its golden b.u.t.terflies. I really knew so little of her; I could a.s.sociate her with no home, only with that last fling of the autumn upon the lake, the snow-driven woodland, that twilight hour at the organ in the chapel, those stolen moments at the Armstrongs'. I resented the pressure of the hour's affairs, and chafed at the necessity for talking of my perplexities with the good friends who were there to help. I wished to be alone, to yield to the sweet mood that the thought of her brought me. The doubt that crept through my mind as to any possibility of connivance between her and Pickering was as vague and fleeting as the shadow of a swallow's wing on a sunny meadow.

"You don't intend fighting the fact of your absence, do you?" demanded Larry, after a long silence.

"Of course not!" I replied quietly. "Pickering was right on my heels, and my absence was known to his men here. And it would not be square to my grandfather, --who never harmed a flea, may his soul rest in blessed peace!--to lie about it. They might nail me for perjury besides."

"Then the quicker we get ready for a siege the better. As I understand your att.i.tude, you don't propose to move out until you've found where the siller's hidden. Being a gallant gentleman and of a forgiving nature, you want to be sure that the lady who is now ent.i.tled to it gets all there is coming to her, and as you don't trust the executor, any further than a true Irishman trusts a British prime minister's promise, you're going to stand by to watch the boodle counted. Is that a correct a.n.a.lysis of your intentions?"

"That's as near one of my ideas as you're likely to get, Larry Donovan!"

"And if he comes with the authorities--the sheriff and that sort of thing--we must prepare for such an emergency," interposed the chaplain.