"I believe that leads straight into the house!"
"All the better," was Moore's unsympathising reply; "all the better if
it does! I had no hope of such a find as this. Come along, Reggie,
keep well to one side, and then no one could see us unless they were
actually at the door looking out for us, which is _not_ likely to be the
case."
But now I stood firm.
"I won't come a step farther," I said positively.
"Well, stay where you are," said my brother, "though I do think you're a
goose, after having come so far, to stop short at the jolliest point!
_I'm_ going on."
I caught hold of him. He was so excited by this time, though cool
enough outwardly, that I was terrified of any war of words ensuing, the
sound of which might have attracted attention at the house, so perfectly
still and silent was everything about us.
"If--" I began, "if you will promise me, vow to me, that you will come
back in five minutes, I'll make my way to the door again, and wait there
for you."
"All right," was the reply; "I promise," and we separated, he creeping
along as nimbly as a cat, while I retreated tremulously, looking over my
shoulder every now and then as I did so, for as long as I could keep the
boy in sight.
These five minutes--and I really don't think he exceeded them--seemed to
me hours. My relief was indescribable when I heard his softly-uttered
"Reggie," as he returned to me.
"Well?" I said interrogatively. "Was it worth the risk? I know I've
been shaking here as if I had the palsy. I couldn't have stood it much
longer."
"Worth the risk?" he repeated, cavalierly ignoring the mention of my
tremors. "I should rather think so! Wait till we get outside, and then
I'll tell you what I saw."
And in another moment, outside and in safety, we found ourselves
carefully closing the door so that its unfastened condition should not
attract attention, as Isabel and I had done on our first visit.
"What did you see?" I inquired at once. "None of the inhabitants, I
suppose?"
"No," was the reply, "but traces of them. That glass door, Reggie, is
the entrance to a long, narrow conservatory, which opens right into the
house at the other end. It isn't much as far as plants go, just a lot
of ferns and green things at one side, but there's a broad sort of walk,
and I saw a pipe or two lying on a little table, and some books and
seats. There was one long deck-chair kind of thing, belonging to the
cripple brother most likely. Evidently it's a place that they keep for
smoking and sitting in. I got close up to the other end and peeped in."
"O Moore!" I exclaimed, interested but horrified, "supposing you had
been seen!"
"But I wasn't," he answered in his most matter-of-fact way. "There was
nobody about, even in the room I peeped into--I couldn't make out if it
was a sitting-room or a bedroom. It was dark and dullish-looking, as I
think all the house must be; the windows are so narrow."
"Perhaps it's the cripple brother's room," I suggested; "bedroom and
sitting-room in one, as he probably finds it difficult to go up and down
stairs."
Moore seemed struck by my acuteness.
"Yes," he said. "I expect it is. It had the look of it."
"Well?" I continued, surprised at the silence which ensued, "go on!"
for he seemed to be thinking deeply.
"What do you mean?" he replied. "`Go on' about what?"
"All that you saw, of course," I answered impatiently. "Don't begin
thinking about it till you have told me the whole! Then we can discuss
it together."
He looked up in surprise.
"There isn't any more to tell," he said. "I was only thinking to myself
how queer it is altogether."