Joe had the feeling that, in that short dialogue, something had been
charged, something denied. Strange premonitions grew and throbbed. And
yet his eyes were glued to the old crone, leaning like a bundle of rags
on her stick at the foot of the porch.
"Your fortunes, kind masters," she cried in a weak quaver. "It is well to
know the future, for a cloud hangs over this house. I see danger where no
danger should be, and a bud dying as it blooms."
Joe went cold to his spine. Feet shifted restlessly in the grass, and
Alec Landry burst through the crowd.
"What's this vagabond doing here?" he demanded roughly.
Bruce gave a thin smile. "A different sort of symbolism, Skipper. Making
prophecy. Danger, and death, and doom. Pleasant old hag."
Joe saw the Landry face go red with rage. Pushing past Bruce he went down
the steps, burly in his strength, and towered above the bent, shrunken
form.
"You're not wanted here," he said. "Clear out before I call the police."
The bent bundle did not stir.
"Do you hear me?" Alec roared. "Go!"
Slowly a clawlike hand lifted itself above the parchment face. For
seconds she stood there, and in those seconds no one moved or spoke.
"The blind man," she croaked. "Hark to me. The blind man shall see, and
the wolf shall find a thorn in the rose."
The hand dropped. Slowly that bundle of rags turned, slowly it tottered
on its way, slowly it disappeared among the trees. A shuddering voice
said, "Gosh, Allan; that was creepy."
Alec Landry fumed. "Mark me, Doctor, if there's mischief abroad in this
neighborhood it will be the gypsies behind it."
"What mischief, Alec?"
"Why--." Joe was startled to find the man suddenly uneasy. "How should I
know?"
"How?" the doctor admitted blandly. Pinched lines had formed around the
sightless eyes. Lady moved restlessly against his left leg, and Allan
strove to rout the depression of the old woman's visit.
"Your fortune, kind masters," he mimicked; "a roof lies over this
house--." He went off into a gale of laughter. "What a lot of rot! I said
I'd show you the mare, Joe. Coming, Doctor?" and the party, recovering
its voice and its holiday mood, milled toward the stable-yard.
The mare, Joe saw with a thrill of admiration, was superb. A groom had
brought her out roaring and plunging. Suddenly she was on her hind legs,
pawing the air, whistling and snorting. A girl screamed.