THE FACE AT THE WINDOW.
Hetty darted up the secondary staircase intent only on her little
charge. The child was unusually nervous and imaginative, as if she had
been frightened by the ghost stories of a foolish nurse. Alternatively
her mother's pet and encumbrance, Mamie had been driven back upon
herself. And she had given up all the love of her heart to Hetty.
It was quite silent upstairs; there was no sign of a maid anywhere. As
Hetty reached the landing the frightened bleating cry broke out again.
There was only a night-light in the nursery; a little white figure sat
moaning in bed.
"You poor little mite," Hetty said tenderly. "There, there. I shall
stay here and not leave you any more until you go to sleep. Where is
Richards?"
"She said she wouldn't be a minute," Mamie sobbed. "I had one of my
headaches and I couldn't go to sleep. Then I began to get frightened
and I wanted somebody to talk to me. I could hear the people and the
music downstairs, so I just got out of bed and went into the
corridor."
"Ah, that is why your feet are so cold. Well?"
"I stood in the corridor for some time," Mamie continued with her head
on Hetty's shoulder. "The blinds were up and I could see those two
wide windows in the Corner House. Richards' father was a footman there
and she told me all about the poor dead lady and the dark husband who
never said anything----"
"Richards shall tell you no more stories," Hetty murmured. "Go on,
pet."
"And then I began to think about it and wonder. And when I was
wondering and wondering and looking into those dark windows I saw a
light."
"You saw a light? In one of those windows? Nonsense!"
"Dearest, it was not nonsense at all. The shadow of the light was all
across my nightdress. I was so frightened that I could not call out
because the Corner House is empty and it must have been a ghost. But
that was not all."
"You fancied that you saw something besides the light?"
"I am certain," said Mamie with a resolute nod. "There was a face, a
face looking out of the window. Oh, such a terrible face! It was dirty
and grimy and one eye was all discoloured, and both the eyes were wild
and fierce and hungry, just like that new tiger at the Zoo. Then the
face went away and I screamed, and that's all, dearest, and oh, I am
so dreadfully tired."
The little dark head fell back and the troubles were forgotten for the
moment. The child was breathing regularly and peacefully now. More
disturbed and uneasy than she cared to admit, Hetty crept out into the
corridor. A certain amount of light from the house and the street fell
on the blank side of the Corner House. There were the two blank
windows at one of which Mamie had seen the face. It must have been
imagination, seeing that the Corner House had been deserted for years.
Hetty knew its story as well as anybody else.
Was it possible that some crime or tragedy was being enacted behind
those grimy walls, all unknown to the police? The house was reported
to be luxuriously furnished, the front of the place was all shuttered.
Stranger things are happening in this London of ours every day in the
week.
She could certainly mention the matter to----. Hetty stopped suddenly
and caught her breath. A faint light had commenced to glow in the
Corner House, gradually the blank window shaped to a luminous outline.
The light grew stronger and stronger, till Hetty could see the
balustrade of the staircase. And then, surely enough there came a face
to the window.
A dreadful face, a face dull and dissipated, with horrible watery red
eyes, yet full of malice and cunning and passion. There was a bristle
of whiskers and a moustache, as if chin and razor had for days been
strangers. As suddenly as the face had come it turned. A hand shot out
from somewhere, as if seeking for the throat of the strange
apparition, a fist was uplifted, and the figure disappeared, evidently
going down before a cruel and crushing blow. The light vanished; it
had probably been overturned and gone out.
"Good heavens!" Hetty cried. "Did you see that?"
She was conscious that somebody was by her side. She looked and found
that her companion was the Countess. No answer came. Hetty touched the
other's arm. She was shaking from head to foot like a reed in the
gale.
"Did you see that?" Hetty demanded, again.
The woman by her side was slowly recovering herself. A minute later
and she was her cold calm self again.
"I saw nothing," she said, between her teeth. "And you saw nothing. It
was some trick of the imagination. There is nobody in yonder house.
When I took this place a year ago so that I could be near--what am I
talking about? I have been working too hard at my pleasures lately; I
shall have to take a rest."
"I am not suffering from any delusions," Hetty said, coldly.
"All the same, you will say nothing," Leona Lalage hissed. "What you
have seen or what you imagine you have seen tonight is to remain a
secret between us for all time. Do you understand me? There is no
better friend than I in all the world, and there is no more dangerous
enemy. See?"
She gripped the girl's arm with fearful force. A strong man would have
had no more firm a clasp. Hetty winced under the pain, but no cry
escaped her lips. There was some dark mystery here, some evil
connexion between the desolation of the Corner House and the brilliant
establishment in Lytton Avenue. Else why would Countess Lalage have
been so far from the centre of the small world called Society?
"It is nothing to me," Hetty said coldly. "If you desire to avoid a
scandal for the sake of the house, my lips are sealed. If you have
nothing further to say to me, I will go and see if Mamie is still
asleep."