A bad night, a very bad night, but for all that I was down early the
next morning. Bess must have her box and I a breath of fresh air before
breakfast, to freshen me up a bit and clear my mind for the decisive
act, since my broken rest had failed to refresh me.
As I reached the parlor floor Nixon came out of the reception-room.
“Oh, Miss!” he exclaimed, “going out?” surprised, doubtless, to see me
in my hat and jacket.
“A few steps,” I answered, and then stopped, not a little disturbed; for
in moving to open the door he had discovered that the key was not in it
and was showing his amazement somewhat conspicuously.
“Mrs. Packard took the key up to her room,” I explained, thinking that
some sort of explanation was in order. “She is nervous, you know, and
probably felt safer with it there.”
The slow shake of his head had a tinge of self-reproach in it.
“I was sorry to go out,” he muttered. “I was very sorry to go out,”--but
the look which he turned upon me the next minute was of a very different
sort. “I don’t see how you can go out yet,” said he, “unless you go by
the back way. That leads into Stanton Street; but perhaps you had just
as lief go into Stanton Street.”
There was impertinence in his voice as well as aggressiveness in his
eye, but I smiled easily enough and was turning toward the back with
every expectation of going by way of Stanton Street, when Letty came
running down the stairs with the key in her hand. I don’t think he was
pleased, but he opened the door civilly enough and I gladly went out,
taking with me, however, a remembrance of the furtive look with which he
had noted the small package in my hand. I pass over the joy with which
Bess received the box and its desired contents. I had lost all interest
in the matter, which was so entirely personal to herself, and, declining
the ten dollars which I knew she could ill afford, made my visit so
short that I was able to take a brisk walk down the street and yet be
back in time for breakfast.
This, like that of the preceding day, I took alone. Mrs. Packard was
well but preferred to eat up-stairs. I did not fret at this; I
was really glad, for now I could think and plan my action quite
unembarrassed by her presence. The opening under the vestibule floor
was to be sounded, and sounded this very morning, but on what pretext? I
could not take Mrs. Packard into my counsel, for that would be to lessen
the force of the discovery with which I yet hoped to dissipate at
one blow the superstitious fears I saw it was otherwise impossible to
combat. I might interest Ellen, and I was quite certain that I could
interest the cook; but this meant Nixon, also, who was always around and
whose animosity to myself was too mysteriously founded for me to trust
him with any of my secrets or to afford him any inkling of my real
reason for being in the house.
Yet help I must have and very efficient help, too. Should I telegraph to
Mayor Packard for some sort of order which would lead to the tearing
up of this end of the house? I could not do this without fuller
explanations than I could give in a telegram. Besides, he was under
sufficient pressure just now for me to spare him the consideration of so
disturbing a matter, especially as he had left a substitute behind
whose business it was, not only to relieve Mrs. Packard in regard to the
libelous paragraph, but in all other directions to which his attention
might be called. I would see Mr. Steele; he would surely be able to
think up some scheme by which that aperture might be investigated
without creating too much disturbance in the house.
An opportunity for doing this was not long in presenting itself. Mr.
Steele came in about nine o’clock and passed at once into the study. The
next moment I was knocking at his door, my heart in any mouth, but my
determination strung up to the point of daring anything and everything
for the end I had in view.
Fortunately he came to the door; I could never have entered without his
encouragement. As I met his eye I was ashamed of the color my cheeks
undoubtedly showed, but felt reconciled the next minute, for he was not
quite disembarrassed himself, though he betrayed it by a little extra
paleness rather than by a flush, such as had so disturbed myself.
Both of us were quite natural in a moment, however, and answering his
courteous gesture I stepped in and at once opened up my business.
“You must pardon me,” said I, “for this infringement upon the usual
rules of this office. I have something very serious to say about Mrs.
Packard--oh, she’s quite well; it has to do with a matter I shall
presently explain--and I wish to make a request.”
“Thank you for the honor,” he said, drawing up a chair for me.
But I did not sit, neither did I speak for a moment. I was contemplating
his features and thinking how faultless they were.
“I hardly know where to begin,” I ventured at last. “I am burdened with
a secret, and it may all appear puerile to you. I don’t know whether
to remind you first of Mayor Packard’s intense desire to see his wife’s
former cheerfulness restored--a task in which I have been engaged to
assist--or to plunge at once into my discoveries, which are a little
peculiar and possibly important, in spite of my short acquaintance with
the people under this roof and the nature of my position here.”
“You excite me,” were his few quick but sharply accentuated words. “What
secret? What discoveries? I didn’t know that the house held any that
were worth the attention of sensible persons like ourselves.”
I had not been looking at him directly, but I looked up at this and was
astonished to find that his interest in what I had said was greater than
appeared from his tone or even from his manner.
“You know the cause of Mrs. Packard’s present uneasiness?” I asked.
“Mayor Packard told me--the paragraph which appeared in yesterday
morning’s paper. I have tried to find out its author, but I have failed
so far.”
“That is a trifle,” I said. “The real cause--no, I prefer to stand,” I
put in, for he was again urging me by a gesture to seat myself.
“The real cause--” he repeated.
“--is one you will smile at, but which you must nevertheless respect.
She thinks--she has confided to us, in fact--that she has seen, within
these walls, what many others profess to have seen. You understand me,
Mr. Steele?”
“I don’t know that I do, Miss Saunders.”
“I find it hard to speak it; you have heard, of course, the common
gossip about this house.”
“That it is haunted?” he smiled, somewhat disdainfully.
“Yes. Well, Mrs. Packard believes that she has seen what--what gives
this name to the house.”
“A ghost?”
“Yes, a ghost--in the library one night.”
“Ah!”
The ejaculation was eloquent. I did not altogether understand it, but
its chief expression seemed to be contempt. I began to fear he would not
have sufficient sympathy with such an unreasoning state of mind to give
me the attention and assistance I desired. He saw the effect it had upon
me and hastened to say:
“The impression Mrs. Packard has made upon me was of a common-sense
woman. I’m sorry to hear that she is the victim of an hallucination.
What do you propose to do about it?--for I see that you have some
project in mind.”
Then I told him as much of my story as seemed necessary to obtain his
advice and to secure his cooperation. I confided to him my theory of the
unexplainable sights and sounds which had so unfortunately aroused Mrs.
Packard’s imagination, and what I had done so far to substantiate it. I
did not mention the bonds, nor tell him of Bess and her box, but led
him to think that my experiments in the cellar had been the result of my
discoveries in the side entrance.
He listened gravely--I hardly feel justified in saying with a surprise
that was complimentary. I am not sure that it was. Such men are
difficult to understand. When I had finished, he remarked with a smile:
“So you conclude that the floor of this place is movable and that
the antiquated ladies you mention have stretched their old limbs in a
difficult climb, just for the game of frightening out tenants they did
not desire for neighbors?”
“I know that it sounds ridiculous,” I admitted, refraining still, in
spite of the great temptation, from mentioning the treasure which it was
the one wish of their lives to protect from the discovery of others. “If
they were quite sane I should perhaps not have the courage to suggest
this explanation of what has been heard and seen here. But they are not
quite sane; a glance at their faces is enough to convince one of this,
and from minds touched with insanity anything can be expected. Will you
go with me to this side entrance and examine the floor for yourself?
The condition of things under it I will ask you to take my word for; you
will hardly wish to visit the cellar on an exploring expedition till you
are reasonably assured of its necessity.”
His eye, which had grown curiously cold and unresponsive through this,
turned from me toward the desk before which he had been sitting. It
was heaped high with a batch of unopened letters, and I could readily
understand what was in his mind.
“You will be helping the mayor more by listening to me,” I continued
earnestly, “than by anything you can do here. Believe me, Mr. Steele, I
am no foolish, unadvised girl. I know what I am talking about.”
He suppressed an impatient sigh and endeavored to show a proper
appreciation of my own estimate of myself and the value of my
communication.
“I am at your service,” said he.
I wished he had been a little more enthusiastic, but, careful not to
show my disappointment, I added, as I led the way to the door:
“I wish we could think of some way of securing ourselves from
interruption. Nixon does not like me, and will be sure to interest
himself in our movements if he sees us go down that hall together.”
“Is there any harm in that?”
“There might be. He is suspicious of me, which makes it impossible for
one to count upon his conduct. If he saw us meddling with the cabinet,
he would be very apt to rush with his complaints to Mrs. Packard, and
I am not ready yet to take her into our confidence. I want first to be
sure that my surmises are correct.”
“You are quite right.” If any sarcasm tinged this admission, he
successfully hid it. “I think I can dispose of Nixon for a short time,”
he went on. “You are bent upon meddling with that vestibule floor?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I should advise not?”
“Yes, Mr. Steele; even if you roused the household and called Mrs.
Packard down to witness my folly. But I should prefer to make my
experiments quickly and without any other witness than yourself. I am
not without some pride to counterbalance my presumption.”
We had come to a stand before the door as I said this. As I finished, he
laid his hand on the knob, saying kindly:
“Your wishes shall be considered. Take a seat in the library, Miss
Saunders, and in a few moments I will join you. I have a task for Nixon
which will keep him employed for some time.”
At this he opened the door and I glided out. Making my way to the
library I hastened in and threw myself into one of its great chairs.
In another minute I heard Mr. Steele summon Nixon, and in the short
interview which followed between them heard enough to comprehend that
he was loading the old butler’s arms with a large mass of documents and
papers for immediate consumption in the furnace. Nixon was not to leave
till they were all safely consumed. The grumble which followed from the
old fellow’s lips was not the most cheerful sound in the world, but he
went back with his pile. Presently I heard the furnace door rattle and
caught the smell, which I was careful to explain to Ellen as she went
by the library door on her way up-stairs, lest Mrs. Packard should be
alarmed and come running down to see what was the matter.
The next moment Mr. Steele appeared in the doorway.
“Now what are we to do?” said he.
I led the way to what I have sometimes called “the recess” for lack of a
better name.
“This is the place,” I cried, adding a few explanations as I saw the
curiosity with which he now surveyed its various features. “Don’t you
see now that cabinet leans to the left? I declare it leans more than it
did yesterday; the floor certainly dips at that point.”
He cast a glance where I pointed and instinctively put out his hand, but
let it fall as I remarked:
“The cabinet is not so very heavy. If I take out a few of those big
pieces of pottery, don’t you think we could lift it away from this
corner?”
“And what would you do then?”
“Tear up the carpet and see what is the matter with this part of the
floor. Perhaps we shall find not only that, but something else of a
still more interesting nature.”
He was standing on the sill of what had been the inner doorway. As I
said these words he fell back in careless grace against the panel and
remained leaning there in an easy attitude, assumed possibly just to
show me with what incredulity, and yet with what kindly forbearance he
regarded my childish enthusiasm.
“I don’t understand,” said he. “What do you expect to find?”
“Some spring or button by which this floor is made to serve the purpose
of a trap. I’m sure that there is an opening underneath--a large
opening. Won’t you help me--”
I forgot to finish. In my eagerness to impress him I had turned in
his direction, and was staring straight at his easy figure and faintly
smiling features, when the molding against which he leaned caught my
eye. With a total absence of every other thought than the idea which had
suddenly come to me, I sprang forward and pressed with my whole weight
against one of the edges of the molding which had a darker hue about it
than the rest. I felt it give, felt the floor start from under me at the
same moment, and in another heard the clatter and felt the force of the
toppling cabinet on my shoulder as it and I went shooting down into
the hole I had been so anxious to penetrate, though not in just this
startling fashion.
The cry, uttered by Mr. Steele as I disappeared from before his eyes,
was my first conscious realization of what had happened after I had
struck the ground below.
“Are you hurt?” he cried, with real commiseration, as he leaned over
to look for me in the hollow at his feet. “Wait and I will drop down to
you,” he went on, swinging himself into a position to leap.
I was trembling with the shock and probably somewhat bruised, but not
hurt enough to prevent myself from scrambling to my feet, as he slid
down to my side and offered me his arm for support.
“What did you do?” he asked. “Was it you who made this trap give way?
I see that it is a trap now,”--and he pointed to the square boarding
hampered by its carpet which hung at one side.
“I pressed one of those round knobs in the molding,” I explained,
laughing to hide the tears of excitement in my eyes. “It had a loose
look. I did it without thinking,--that is, without thinking enough of
what I was doing to be sure that I was in a safe enough position for
such an experiment. But I’m all right, and so is the cabinet. See!” I
pointed to where it stood, still upright, its contents well shaken up
but itself in tolerably good condition.
“You are fortunate,” said he. “Shall I help you up out of this? Your
curiosity must be amply satisfied.”
“Not yet, not yet,” I cried. “Oh! it is as I thought,” I now exclaimed,
peering around the corner of the cabinet into a place of total darkness.
“The passage is here, running directly under the alley-way. Help me,
help me, I must follow it to the end. I’m sure it communicates with the
house next door.”
He had to humor me. I already had one hand on the cabinet’s edge, and
should have pushed it aside by my own strength if he had not interfered.
The space we were in was so small, some four feet square, I should
judge, that the utmost we could do was to shove one corner of it
slightly aside, so as to make a narrow passage into the space beyond.
Through this I slipped and should have stepped recklessly on if he had
not caught me back and suggested that he go first into what might have
its own pitfalls and dangers.
I did not fear these, but was glad, nevertheless, to yield to his
suggestion and allow him to pass me. As he did so, he took out a match
from his pocket and in another moment had lit and held it out. A long,
narrow vaulting met our eyes, very rude and propped up with beams in an
irregular way. It was empty save for a wooden stool or some such object
which stood near our feet. Though the small flame was insufficient to
allow us to see very far, I was sure that I caught the outlines of
a roughly made door at the extreme end and was making for this door,
careless of his judgment and detaining hand, when a quick, strong light
suddenly struck me in the face. In the square hollow made by the opening
of this door, I saw the figure of Miss Charity with a lighted lantern in
her hand. She was coming my way, the secret of the ghostly visitations
which had deceived so many people was revealed.