LITTLE STRAWS SHOW THE DIRECTION OF THE WIND.
“Do you mean, sir,” asked Sarah, “that it might not have been my
mistress who was in the carriage when I supposed that I was bidding her
good-by?”
“Yes. I mean that it might not have been your mistress, although we must
act for the present on the hypothesis that it was she. Supposing that it
was, the fact of her holding her handkerchief to her mouth while she was
talking to you would lead one to suppose that she had some reason for
wishing to conceal some emotion from you, would it not?”
“I suppose so. I had not thought of that.”
“No. I suppose you stood there and watched the carriage until it was out
of sight?”
“Yes.”
“Then you went into the house and went directly to her rooms, did you
not?”
“Yes.”
“What was the condition of the rooms?”
“I never saw them in such confusion, sir.”
“Showing that the packing had been done quite hastily; is that the
idea?”
“It is, sir.”
“Who did the packing? Of course you inquired.”
“Naturally. Isabel Benton must have done it all, sir.”
“Unless her mistress helped her, you mean.”
“Nobody else helped her, sir. She ordered the trunks brought to the
rooms, and they were packed there. Nobody helped her.”
“What was packed?”
“That is what surprises me, sir. I have never known Miss Danton to take
so many things away with her before. Her own trunks were not sufficient.
She took three trunks which belong to her mother.”
“What was put into the trunks?”
“Almost every bit of her wardrobe. She took a great many things which
she has not used of late and which I know she had discarded for good,
and she took one dress which I have heard her say she would never wear
under any circumstances.”
“What else?”
“Why, books, trinkets, keepsakes--a mass of things, sir, which she never
noticed or cared for at all--and she cleaned out her writing-desk,
which hitherto she has only locked when we have been going away.”
“What else?”
“Well, sir--and this I cannot explain at all--she took every photograph
of herself that the house contained.”
“What is that? Her own photographs?”
“Yes, sir. I noticed, first, that one that she had given to me was
missing. Then I began to look for others. There is not a picture of her
left in the house. She even went into her brother’s, her mother’s and
her father’s rooms and took photographs from there.”
“Her own?”
“Her own and theirs as well.”
“That is rather remarkable. Was she fond of her own pictures, do you
think?”
“Not at all. She paid almost no attention to them. She never kept a
photograph of herself exposed to view in her own room.”
“Who took the trunks to the station?”
“The men at the stable, sir.”
“How many trunks were there?”
“Eleven.”
“Do you know to what place those trunks were checked?”
“Yes, sir. I asked. They were checked to New York.”
“Which tells us nothing, and which can never tell us anything, I expect
since an entire week has elapsed since that time. Sarah, did the other
servants in the house know that she was intending to go away that day?”
“Nobody knew it until she began sending for her trunks.”
“Now, let us return to the moment when she sent you on that errand to
New York.”
“Very well, sir.”
“How did she appear when she gave you your orders about that?”
“I did not see her then, sir.”
“Not see her? How was that?”
“She sent the order to me by Isabel.”
“Ah! Did you see your mistress at all that day--Sunday?”
“No, sir, I did not. Isabel attended her.”
“When did you see her last?”
“Saturday night, sir.”
“At what time?”
“I assisted her when she retired.”
“Where was Isabel, the other maid, at that time?”
“Walking on the piazza, I think. She was not in the room.”
“Who usually attended your mistress when she retired?”
“I, sir, always.”
“And when she rose in the morning?”
“I did, when she required anybody. Often she was up, dressed and out of
the house before I was awake. She loved to be in the garden in the early
morning.”
“Did she go into the garden Sunday morning?”
“No, sir. She did not leave her rooms all day, while I was in the
house.”
“How does it happen that you did not go to her in her rooms?”
“Isabel told me that she had directed that we were both to remain
outside. She said that Miss Mercedes was not feeling well, and did not
wish to be disturbed, and that she would ring if she wanted either of
us. Two rings were for Isabel and one was for me. She rang for Isabel
twice, I think--for me, not at all.”
“Was it her custom to exclude you from her rooms?”
“She never did such a thing before since I have been in her service.”
“How do you account for it this time?”
“I do not account for it at all, sir.”
“What time were you sent away on the errand?”
“About noon, sir.”
“What was the errand?”
“I was sent to see a woman who had been recommended to us--or, rather,
to Miss Danton--as one who could do fine sewing beautifully. I was to
talk with her, and, if she seemed satisfactory, to engage her services;
but the address was evidently incorrect, for no such person lived there.
It was in Brooklyn, so I had a long distance to travel, but I made good
time and so caught a train back to the Fells half an hour quicker than I
otherwise would have done.”
“I see. You were sent on a wild-goose chase after an imaginary person in
order to get you out of the house while the packing was going on, and it
was intended that you should not return until after it was all over, and
she had gone, too.”
“It would seem so, sir.”
“The last time you saw your mistress was when you put her to bed
Saturday night?”
“Yes.”
“How did she appear then?”
“As usual.”
“Not troubled by anything, so far as you could determine?”
“No more than had been the general rule of late.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, she had not been exactly the same since--well, sir, it seems an
odd circumstance for a comparison of dates in regard to my mistress, but
it occurs to me that she had not been exactly the same since about the
time when Paul Rogers entered the service of Mr. Reginald as his valet.”
“It is an odd circumstance to use as a comparison, Sarah. I would like
you to tell me exactly why you do so.”
“Because of a very trivial thing, sir. I happened to be standing in the
hallway of the house when Mr. Reginald returned from Europe and brought
his new valet with him. Miss Mercedes came out from the drawing room to
welcome her brother, and after he had passed on up the stairs she
remained there talking with me until the valet came in with some of the
luggage. She turned to see who it was who had entered, and when her eyes
lighted upon the face of the valet she uttered a sudden cry of alarm and
staggered back into my arms; but she barely touched them before she had
straightened up again. There was not the slightest outward sign of
emotion on her face, either.”
“The valet stepped toward her, bowed, and said in those peculiar, soft
tones of his, that he was sorry he had frightened her, and she replied
by laughing and telling him it was nothing at all.”
“And she offered no explanation?”
“None at all.”
“Did any occur to you?”
“Only that I thought she had not heard him and was really startled.”
“You mean that you thought that at the time; but that afterward you
changed your mind?”
“No, sir. I did not change my mind.”
“Do you think that she recognized in the valet a person whom she had
seen and known before?”
“Yes; I think so now.”
“Why?”
“Because--well, I have no good reason, only that many times since then I
have seen her look strangely at the valet when she did not know that she
was observed.”
“How, strangely? What do you mean by that?”
“I scarcely know.”
“Did she seem to fear him?”
“No; rather to be studying him.”
“You are of the opinion that she had seen him somewhere before?”
“Either that, or he was strangely and unaccountably like some person she
had known.”
“Now you have said that she had not been exactly the same since that
time. In what way was she different?”
“That is a difficult question to answer, for the reason that there was
no difference which I could explain. There would have been no difference
at all to any one less intimately associated with her than I was. But
there was a difference.”
“Can you not give me some idea about it?”
“Only that after encountering him anywhere in the house or in the
garden, she would appear, for a short interval, to be in a mood of
abstraction.”
“As if she were endeavoring to recall something that was
half-forgotten?”
“No; not that. More as if she were trying to explain something to her
own satisfaction?”
“Did he ever address her or she him, save on the mere formalities of the
household?”
“Never that I know about.”
“Did his presence ever seem to frighten her?”
“Nothing ever frightened her, sir. She possessed the courage and the
self-control of a man.”
“Do you think his presence annoyed her?”
“No; I think it only puzzled her.”
“Well, Sarah, we will leave Rogers for a moment and return to Isabel. I
want a word or two about her.”
“Very good, sir.”
“I see that you did not like her, but it is possible that your dislike
may have been the result of jealousy rather than have arisen from any
really good reason, so I wish you to make an effort to disabuse your
mind of anything but justice in replying to my questions about her.”