small hall, and these, also, were clearly part of an old house that
seemed to be somehow merged into the Hollister mansion. I remembered
now that the mansion stood wedged against a rough spur of rock, and
that the front and rear entrances were upon different levels, and it
was conceivable that the back part of the mansion might inclose these
rooms of an earlier house that had occupied the same site; why they
should have been retained was beyond me.
Through the carefully-preserved windows, many-paned and quaint, of
these hidden rooms, the infolding walls of the new house were blank and
black. An odd thing indeed, that Pepperton should have lent himself to
the preservation of a commonplace and thoroughly uninteresting relic,
for beyond doubt he must have countenanced it; and Miss Hollister's
prompt removal of the plans from the architect's office became more
enigmatical than ever.
One door only remained in this shell of the old house, and I hastened
to fling it open, still lighting my way with a candle. Before me lay
the coal cellar, at which I had merely glanced on the morning after my
installation at Hopefield. I now began to get my bearings. I
remembered two iron lids in the cemented surface of an area on the east
side of the house where fuel was deposited, and mounting a few steps
that were of recent construction, and had evidently been built to
afford communication between the remnant of the old house and the
subterranean portion of the new, I found to my relief and satisfaction
beneath one of these openings a short ladder, through which the court
might be reached. Here, then, the manner of ghostly ingress was
illustrated by perfectly plausible means. The lid of the coal-hole was
entirely withdrawn, and a bar of moonlight lay brightening upon a pile
of anthracite at the foot of the ladder.
The ghost I believed to be still in the upper halls of the house, and
now that I was in a position to watch the ladder by which he had
entered I felt confident that I had cut off his retreat. I was
surveying the cellar, when I heard faint sounds in a new direction.
Far away under the house, and remote from the secret steps, some one
was moving toward me, and rapidly, too! The ghost that I believed to
have disappeared into the fourth-floor hall must then have changed the
line of his retreat and descended by one of the regular stairways.
I blew out my candle and stood with my back to the wall of the long
corridor on which opened the various store-rooms, the heating plant,
laundry and other accessories of the modern house. My ghost was coming
in haste,--a haste that did not harmonize with the stately tread of the
spooks of popular superstition. A slower pace and I should doubtless
have fled before him; but quick light steps echoed in the dark
corridor, and I gathered courage from the thought that ghosts create
echoes no more than they cast shadows.
As the steps drew nearer I prepared myself to spring upon him. I must
unconsciously have taken a step, for he paused suddenly, stood still
for a moment, then turned and scampered back the way he had come.
After him I went as fast as I could run. The cement-paved corridor was
four or five feet wide, and I plunged through the dark at my best
speed. At the end of the corridor I was pretty certain of my quarry,
and I made ready to grapple with him. Then as I plunged into the wall
my hands touched a man's face and for a moment clutched the collar of
his coat. He had been waiting for me to strike the wall, and as he
slipped out of my grasp he ran back toward the coal cellar. I had
struck the wall with a force that knocked the wind out of me, but I got
myself together with the loss of only an instant and renewed pursuit.
I had no fear but that, if he attempted to reach the open by means of
the coal-hole, I should catch him on the ladder, and I sprinted for all
I was worth to make sure of him.
My fleeting grasp of the man's collar and the agility with which he had
slipped from my clasp had settled the ghost question, and I had now
resolved the intruder into a common thief. As we neared the coal
cellar I increased my pace, and felt myself gaining on him; though in
the dark I saw nothing until I glimpsed the faint light from the
coal-hole.
It had evidently occurred to him by this time that if he tried to climb
the ladder I could easily pull him down by the legs; and when he
reached the cross hall, he turned quickly and dived through the opening
into the hidden chambers. I lost no time in following, but the fellow
put up a good race, and as I reached the old stairway he was mounting
it two steps at a time, as I judged from the sound. I had hoped to
catch and dispose of him without alarming the house, but it seemed
inevitable now that the chase would end in such fashion as to arouse
the company assembled in the library.
I heard him stumble and fall headlong at the door above; then he shot
off into the still darkened hall, and when I had gained the top I lost
track of him for a moment. I paused and was about to strike a match,
when he resumed his flight, and I was forced to grapple with the fact
that some one else was pursuing him. I held my match unstruck upon
this new disclosure, and stepped back within the concealed door and
waited. Up and down the hall, two persons were running, and when they
reached the ends of the corridor I heard hands touch the wall and the
sound of dodging, and then almost instantly the two runners flashed by
me again. The hall was so dark that I saw nothing, but as the runners
passed the door I felt the rush of air caused by their flight.
Three or four times this had happened, and then, still without having
made a light, I thrust out my foot at the next return of the unseen
runners. Some one tripped and fell headlong, and I promptly flung
myself upon him.
My prisoner's resistance engaged my best attention a moment, but when I
had sat upon his legs and got hold of his struggling hands, some one
stole softly by me. My prisoner, too, heard and was attentive. Not
only did I experience the same sensation as on the previous night, of a
passing near by, but I was conscious of the same faint perfume, as of a
flower-scent half-caught in a garden at night, that had added to my
mystification before. Then without the slightest warning the lights
flashed on, and a door closed somewhere, but it was not the hidden one
leading down into the remnant of the old house, for my prisoner's head
and shoulders lay across its threshold. He sighed deeply, bringing my
dazed wits back to him, and I found myself gazing into the blinking
eyes of Lord Arrowood.
"Bounders, I say, bounders!" he gasped.
"In the circumstances, Lord Arrowood, I should not call names. Will
you tell me what you mean by running through this house in this
fashion? Stand up and give an account of yourself."
I helped him to his feet and bent over the stair-rail leading down to
the third floor. Evidently our strange transactions beneath and above
had not disturbed the assembled suitors and their hostesses; but in
common decency Lord Arrowood must be disposed of promptly; there was no
doubt about that.
"I was an ass to try it," muttered his lordship, pulling his tie into
shape. "And now I want to get out. I want to go away from here."
He was tugging at the belt of his Norfolk coat, and something between
it and his waistcoat evidently gave him concern. It did not seem
possible that he was really a thief, with chattels concealed on his
person, but he continued to smooth his jacket anxiously, meanwhile
eyeing me apprehensively. He puffed hard from his recent game of
hide-and-seek, and his face was wet with perspiration. Our
conversation was carried on in half-whispers. He was so crestfallen
that if it had n't been for the necessity of maintaining silence I
should have laughed outright.
"Out with it, my lord. What have you stuck in your coat?"
"They're bounders, all the rest of 'em," he asserted doggedly, "but I
believe you to be a gentleman."
"I thank you, Lord Arrowood, for this mark of confidence; but you have
led me a hot chase through this house, and it is clear that you have
something tucked under your coat that you have seized feloniously.
We're standing here in the light, and our voices may at any moment
attract Miss Hollister and the others in the library. Open your coat!
I declare that even if you have lifted a bit of the Hollister plate I
will let you go. My lord, if you please, stand and unfold yourself!"
Reluctantly, shamefacedly, and still breathing hard from his late
exertions, Lord Arrowood of Arrowood, Hants, England, obeyed me. There
were five buttons to the close-fitting jacket, and the loosening of
every succeeding one seemed to give him pain. Then with his head
slightly lifted as though in disdain of me, he held out for my
observation a pie, in the pan in which it had been baked! The top
crust was browned to a nicety; its edges were crimped neatly; and in
spite of the fact that I had so lately dined sumptuously at Miss
Hollister's hospitable board, at sight of this alluring pastry I
experienced the sharp twinges of aroused appetite.
[Illustration: He held out for my observation a pie.]
"Now you have it, and I hope you are satisfied," said Lord Arrowood.
"Kindly allow me to retire by the way I came."
"First," I replied, sobered by the gravity of his manner, "it would
interest me as a student of character to know just what species of pie
lured you to this burglarious deed."
"I have reason to think," he answered, with tears in his eyes, "that it
is a gooseberry. I was damned hungry, if you must know the truth, and
having sampled the old lady's pies this morning, and had nothing to eat
since, I saw the coal-hole open and ladder beneath, and the rest of it
was easy. If you and the other chap had n't chased me all over the
estate, I 'd have been off with my pie and no harm done. The old lady
's insane, you know, and has no manner of use for pies. The house is
haunted in the bargain. When you had about winded me down in the
cellar and cut me off from the ladder and chased me up here, the ghost
took a hand, and if you had n't tripped me and sat on me the spirits
would certainly have nailed me. O Lord, what a night!"
"It's your impression then that when you got up here somebody else
broke into the game."
"Quite that, only I should say some_thing_, not some_body_. It was a
lighter step than yours. It had its hand on me once; but I could n't
touch it. Damn me," he concluded hoarsely, "it was n't there to touch!"
"You are sure you speak the truth when you say that the coal-hole was
open and that you found the ladder there when you came?"
"No manner of doubt of it. As I have already said, I believe you to be
a gentleman, and between gentlemen certain confidences may pass that
would n't be possible between a gentleman and those _canaille_ down
there."
He jerked his head scornfully to indicate the suitors below.
I bowed with such dignity as is possible in addressing a nobleman whom
you have just caught in the act of lifting a gooseberry-pie from a
lady's pantry,--a pie which you hold perforce in your hands.
"The fact is that I was without the price of food; and to repeat, I was
beastly hungry."
"Poverty and hunger, my lord, are pardonable sins. And I dare say that
Miss Hollister would be highly pleased to know that a gentleman of your
high position--she told me herself that you were descended from the
Jutish chiefs--had paid so high a compliment to the excellence of her
pastry. Your only error, as I view the matter, lies in the fact that
you have laid felonious hands upon a gooseberry-pie. All gooseberry
pastries are sacred to Hezekiah. My impressions of Hezekiah are the
pleasantest, and I cannot allow you to intervene between her and the
pie I hold in my hands. If you will accompany me below, I will
undertake to gain access to the pie vault, return this pie to its
proper place, and hand you, at the foot of the ladder, an apple-pie in
place of it. I dare say it never will be missed; but from what I know
of Hezekiah, any trifling with her appetite would be a crime indictable
at common law."
His lordship seemed reassured, and we were about to descend by the
concealed stair when he arrested me.
"Mr. Ames, you are a gentleman, and possess a generous heart. We
understand each other perfectly. And as I have every reason to believe
that my suit is hopeless, I ask the loan of five dollars until I can
confer with my friend the British consul at New York. I shall sail at
once for England."
I was moved to pity by his humility. A man who, finding himself
reduced to larceny by hunger, and being unable to win the woman of his
choice, meekly yields to the inevitable, is not a fair mark for
contumely. He stepped down before me into the dark stairway, and I
closed the door after me and followed him.
I found my way to the pie pantry without difficulty, returned the
gooseberry-pie to its proper shelf, chose an apple-pie and gave it,
with a five-dollar note, to Lord Arrowood.
At the bottom of the ladder he pressed my hand feelingly, and expressed
his gratitude in terms that would have touched a harder heart than mine.
Then having closed the coal-hole and hidden the ladder under a pile of
wood, I resumed my pursuit of the ghost.
XIV
LADY'S SLIPPER
I lighted my way with a candle through the lost chambers of the old
house, up the hidden stairway, and out into the fourth-floor hall
again. The old stair, I found on closer observation, reached only from
the second to the fourth floor, and below this had been pieced with
lumber carefully preserved from the earlier house. There was nothing
so strange after all about the hidden stairway, though I was convinced
that this had been no idea of Pepperton's, but that he had merely
obeyed the orders of his eccentric client, the umbrella and
dyspepsia-cure millionaire.
I had no sooner let myself through the secret door into the upper hall
than I was aware of a disturbance in the library below. I heard
exclamations from the men, and as I ran down toward the third floor
Miss Octavia's voice rose above the tumult.
"We must have patience, gentlemen. Chimneys are subject to moods just
like human beings; and we are fortunate in having in the house a
gentleman who is an expert in such matters. I do not doubt that Mr.
Ames even now has his hand upon the chimney's pulse, and that he will
soon solve this perplexing problem."
"If you wait for that man to mend your chimney you will wait until
doomsday."
So spake John Stewart Dick, taking his vengeance of me with my client
and hostess. I might have forgiven him; but I could not forgive
Hartley Wiggins.
"He does n't know any more about chimneys than the man in the moon," my
old friend was saying, between coughs.
And then quite unmistakably I smelt smoke, and bending further over the
rail and peering down the stair-well I saw smoke pouring from the
library into the hall. It seemed to be in greater volume to-night than
at previous manifestations. A gray-blue cloud was filling the lower
hall and rising toward me. I ran quickly to the third floor, to the
chamber whose fireplace was served by the library chimney. The lights
in the third-floor hall winked out as I opened the door,--I heard a
step behind me somewhere; but I did not trouble about this. The switch
inside the unused guest-chamber responded readily to my touch, and on
kneeling by the hearth I found it cold, as I had expected. There was
absolutely no way of choking the library flue at this point, for, as I
had established earlier, all the fireplaces in this chimney had their
independent flues. Pepperton would never have built them otherwise,
and no one but a skilled mason could have tapped the library flue here
or higher up, and the work could not have been done without much noise
and labor.
The hall outside was still dark, and I did not try the switch. The
pursuit was better carried on in darkness, and I had by this time
become accustomed to rapid locomotion through unlighted passages. I
leaned over the stair-well and heard exclamations of surprise at the
sudden cessation of the smoke, which had evidently abated as abruptly
as it had begun. The windows and doors had been opened, and the
company had returned to the library.
"Quite extraordinary. Really quite remarkable!" they were saying
below. I heard Cecilia's light laughter as the odd ways of the chimney
were discussed. And as I stood thus peering down and listening, the
Swedish maid's blonde head appeared below me, bending over the
well-rail on the second floor. She too was taking note of affairs in
the library, and as I watched her she lifted her head and her eyes met
mine. Then, while we still stared at each other, the second-floor
lights went out with familiar abruptness, and as I craned my neck to
peer into the blackness above me I experienced once more that ghostly
passing as of some light, unearthly thing across my face. I reached
for it wildly with my hands, but it seemed to be caught away from me;
and then as I fought the air madly, it brushed my cheek again. I have
no words to describe the strange effect of that touch. I felt my scalp
creep and cold chills ran down my spine. It seemingly came from above,
and it was not like a hand, unless a hand of wonderful lightness!
Certainly no human arm could reach down the stair-well to where I
stood. And in that touch to-night there was something akin to a
gentle, lingering caress as it swept slowly across my face and eyes.
I waited for its recurrence a moment, but it came no more. Then on a
sudden prompting I stole swiftly to the fourth floor, lighted my
candle, and gazed about. I thought it well to let the electric light
alone, for my ghost had once too often plunged me into darkness at
critical moments, and a candle in my hands was not subject to his
trickery.
The hall was perfectly quiet. The door leading down the hidden stair
was invisible, and I had not yet learned how it might be opened from
the hall, though Mr. Bassford Hollister had undoubtedly left the house
by this means after my interview with him on the roof. And reminded of
the roof, I opened the trunk-room door and peered in. The candle-light
slowly crept into its dark corners, and looking up I marked the
presence of the trap-door secure in the opening. As I stood on the
threshold of the trunk-piled room, my hand on the knob and the candle
thrust well before me, I heard a slight furtive movement to my left and
behind the door. I was quite satisfied now that I was about to solve
some of the mysteries of the night, and to make sure I was
unobserved--for having gone so far alone I wanted no partners in my
investigations--I listened to the murmur of talk below for a moment,
then cautiously advanced my candle further into the room. I was not
yet so valiant, even after all my night-prowlings and explorations of
hidden chambers, but that I thrust the light in well ahead of me and
bent my wrist so that the candle's rays might dispel the last shadow
that lurked behind the door before I suffered my eyes to look upon the
goblin. I took one step and then cautiously another, until the whole
of the trunk-room was well within range of my vision.
And there, seated on a prodigious trunk frescoed with labels of a dozen
foreign inns, I beheld Hezekiah!
[Illustration: Seated on a prodigious trunk frescoed with labels of a
dozen foreign inns, I beheld Hezekiah!]
As I recall it she was very much at her ease. She sat on one foot and
the other beat the trunk lightly. She was bareheaded, and the
candle-light was making acquaintance with the gold in her hair. She
wore her white sweater, as on that day in the orchard; and with much
gravity, as our eyes met, she thrust a hand into its pocket and drew
out a cracker. I was not half so surprised at finding her there as I
was at her manner now that she was caught. She seemed neither
distressed, astonished nor afraid.
"Well, Miss Hezekiah," I said, "I half suspected you all along."
"Wise Chimney-Man! You were a little slow about it though."
"I was indeed. You gave me a run for my money."
She finished her cracker at the third bite, slapped her hands together
to free them of possible crumbs, and was about to speak, when she
jumped lightly from the trunk, bent her head toward the door, and then
stepped back again and faced me imperturbably.
"And now that you've found me, Mr. Chimney-Man, the joke's on you after
all."
She laid her hand on the door and swung it nearly shut. I had heard
what she had heard: Miss Octavia was coming upstairs! She had
exchanged a few words with the Swedish maid on the second-floor
landing, and Hezekiah's quick ear had heard her. But Hezekiah's
equanimity was disconcerting: even with her aunt close at hand she
showed not the slightest alarm. She resumed her seat on the trunk, and
her heel thumped it tranquilly.
"The joke's on you, Mr. Chimney-Man, because now that you 've caught me
playing tricks you've got to get me out of trouble."
"What if I don't?"
"Oh, nothing," she answered indifferently, looking me squarely in the
eye.
"But your aunt would make no end of a row; and you would cause your
sister to lose out with Miss Octavia. As I understand it, you 're
pledged to keep off the reservation. It was part of the family
agreement."
"But I'm here, Chimney-pot, so what are you going to do about it?"
"Mr. Ames! If you are ghost-hunting in this part of the house"--
It was Miss Octavia's voice. She was seeking me, and would no doubt
find me. The sequestration of Hezekiah became now an urgent and
delicate matter.
"You caught me," said Hezekiah, calmly, "and now you've got to get me
out; and I wish you good luck! And besides, I lost one of my shoes
somewhere, and you've got to find that."
In proof of her statement she submitted a shoeless, brown-stockinged
foot for my observation.
"The one I lost was like this," and Hezekiah thrust forth a neat tan
pump, rather the worse for wear. "I was on the second floor a bit
ago," she began, "and lost my slipper."
"In what mischief, pray?"
"Mr. Ames," called Miss Octavia, her voice close at hand.
"I wanted to see something in Cecilia's room; so I opened her door and
walked in, that's all," Hezekiah replied.
"Wicked Hezekiah! Coming into the house is bad enough in all the
circumstances. Entering your sister's room is a grievous sin."
"If, Mr. Ames, you are still seeking an explanation of that chimney's
behavior"--
It was Miss Octavia, now just outside the door.
"Don't leave that trunk, Hezekiah," I whispered. "I'll do the best I
can."
Miss Octavia met me smilingly as I faced her in the hall. She had
switched on the lights, and my candle burned yellowly in the white
electric glow.
Miss Octavia held something in her hand. It required no second glance
to tell me that she had found Hezekiah's slipper.
"Mr. Ames," she began, "as you have absented yourself from the library
all evening, I assume that you have been busy studying my chimneys and
seeking for the ghost of that British soldier who was so wantonly slain
upon the site of this house."
"I am glad to say that not only is your surmise correct, Miss
Hollister, but that I have made great progress in both directions."
"Do you mean to say that you have really found traces of the ghost?"
"Not only that, Miss Hollister, but I have met the ghost face to
face,--even more, I have had speech with him!"
Her face brightened, her eyes flashed. It was plain that she was
immensely pleased.
"And are you able to say, from your encounter, that he is in fact a
British subject, uneasily haunting this house in America long after the
Declaration of Independence and Washington's Farewell Address have
passed into literature?"
"You have never spoken a truer word, Miss Hollister. The ghost with
whom or which I have had speech is still a loyal subject of the King of
England. But by means which I am not at liberty to disclose, I have
persuaded him not to visit this house again."
"Then," said Miss Hollister, "I cannot do less than express my
gratitude; though I regret that you did not first allow me to meet him.
Still, I dare say that we shall find his bones buried somewhere beneath
my foundations. Please assure me that such is your expectation."
She was leading me into deep water, but I had skirted the coasts of
truth so far; and with Hezekiah on my hands I felt that it was
necessary to satisfy Miss Hollister in every particular.
"To-morrow, Miss Hollister, I shall take pleasure in showing you
certain hidden chambers in this house which I venture to say will
afford you great pleasure. I have to-night discovered a link between
the mansion as you know it and an earlier house whose timbers may
indeed hide the bones of that British soldier."
"And as for the chimney?"