A Chance Discovery
Softly, Nancy Drew closed the door. One quick glance toward the stairway
had convinced her that she could not hope to escape into the corridor.
Already the old colored woman, oil lamp in hand, had nearly reached the
landing. Fortunately, she was fat and awkward and could not move
swiftly. Nancy was thankful for that.
The ill-tempered parrot which had been the cause of all the trouble, was
now fully awakened. It began to flutter about angrily in its cage and to
squawk louder than before.
“Go ’way! Go ’way!” it screeched shrilly, cocking its head and eying her
slyly.
“Oh, hush up, you horrid bird!” Nancy murmured in an undertone, as she
scowled at the bird. “You’ve caused enough trouble as it is!”
She flashed her light about the room in a desperate attempt to find a
hiding place. The room was bare of furniture.
She rushed to the window and glanced hopefully out. There was no ledge,
and the drop to the ground would be suicide.
Nancy realized that she had never been in a more dangerous situation.
She did not doubt that the old colored woman was as unscrupulous as her
master, and what she would do if she found a stranger prowling in the
house, Nancy dreaded to consider. At least she would turn her over to
Nathan Gombet when he returned, and Nancy could think of no worse fate.
Nervously, she gripped her revolver. If the necessity arose, could she
defend herself? She had never shot a firearm in her life at anything but
a target, and she knew that she could never bring herself to the point
of injuring a human being deliberately, even to save herself from
capture. Yet, the revolver would serve as a bluff, and perhaps as an
effective one.
“I can’t afford to be caught here,” she thought. “Even if I managed to
escape it would put an end to my investigation, and I haven’t learned
half enough yet!”
In her prior survey of the bird room, Nancy had failed to notice a
closet door directly behind the parrot’s cage. Now, as her eyes turned
again in that direction, she saw it for the first time.
With a low exclamation of pleasure and belief she glided toward it.
Opening the door, she stepped inside and closed it after her.
She was not an instant too soon, for scarcely had she entered the dark
recess when she heard the room door open. The colored woman came
waddling into the room. She flashed her light into the corners of the
room and looked about in a puzzled manner as though unable to understand
what had caused the commotion of the birds.
“Go ’way! Go ’way!” the parrot cackled, harping on its eternal theme.
“Polly wants a cracker.”
“How comes you so excited to-night, talk-bird?” the woman demanded
crossly. “You carries on like a fool with all yo’ squawkin’ and
speechifyin’!”
“Go ’way! Go ’way!” the parrot repeated mechanically, fluttering its
wings and swinging saucily on its cage trapeze.
“Oh, nev’ mind, nev’ mind!” the negress grunted. “I’ll go ’way all
right, but befo’ I goes I’s gwine cut off yo’ conversation!”
Provoked that the bird had caused her to make a special trip upstairs,
she picked up a piece of heavy canvas from the floor and flung it over
the parrot’s cage.
“I reckon dat’ll hold you fo’ a spell!” she muttered.
The parrot gave a last dismal squawk and then became quiet.
The woman stood beside the bird cage regarding it with satisfaction. She
was not more than a yard or two from the closet door and if she had
reached out her hand could have touched the handle.
Fearful lest she be discovered, Nancy pressed herself against the wall
of the closet and remained motionless. She felt a tiny little knob
pressing uncomfortably into the hollow of her back, but without a light
she could not see what it was. Later, if she escaped detection, she
intended to investigate.
Now, she knew that the slightest noise would bring the enemy down upon
her in an instant. For some reason, the colored woman showed an
inclination to remain even after she had covered the bird cage. Perhaps
she sensed a foreign presence in the room. At all events she stood near
the closet, listening.
The room was silent save for the twittering of the canaries. Nancy held
her breath in suspense. Would she be discovered? It was a nerve-wracking
moment.
Again the woman flashed her light about the room, but she did not turn
toward the closet. After a last careful look around, she moved heavily
toward the door. There she paused and appeared to reflect.
“Cain’t make out what upset that there bird all of a sudden,” she said
to herself. “Reckons I ain’t gwine take no chances.”
With that, she went out and closed the door behind her. Nancy heard a
peculiar grating sound, but was at a loss to explain it.
The colored woman shuffled down the corridor and as she descended the
stairs to the lower floor, her footsteps gradually died away. After
waiting several minutes, Nancy emerged from her hiding place. The air
had become unpleasantly stuffy within the closet, and she was glad to
get out.
Avoiding the parrot cage, she crept noiselessly to the door. She grasped
the knob and pulled, but to her astonishment the door did not open.
Again she tried, but without success.
The door was locked!
Now Nancy comprehended the significance of the peculiar grating noise
she had heard directly after the negress had left the room. It was the
sound of a key turning in the lock. She, Nancy Drew, was a prisoner in
the bird room—the “chamber of horrors.”
“Now what shall I do?” Nancy questioned herself miserably. “Oh, why did
I ever come to this horrible place, anyway?”
She sank down on the floor and tried to think of a way out of the
predicament, but could not. Her zest for adventure had been her undoing.
“If I ever get out of here alive I’ll think twice before I go blundering
into anything like this again,” she promised herself.
Presently, she walked over to the window and glanced toward the Turnbull
mansion. If only she could wish herself safely back into her own room!
“And the worst part of it is that I haven’t discovered what I came to
find out,” she mourned. “I’m sure there is a secret panel in this house,
but now I’ll never find it. I’m certain it wouldn’t be in this room.”
Because there was nothing else to do, she began a half-hearted
examination of the walls. As she had expected, she found nothing of
interest. She was about to give up in disgust when a sudden thought came
to her.
She recalled the knob she had felt within the closet. Probably it was
nothing, but at least it would do no harm to have a look at it.
Flashing her light into the closet, she focused it upon the knob in
question. It was a tiny thing and appeared to have no special purpose.
Certainly it was not the right size to serve as an object upon which to
hang clothing.
“I wonder what it is for?” the girl asked herself.
Curiously, Nancy stepped inside the closet and twisted the knob. She
thought she heard a clicking noise. Was it only imagination?
Eagerly, she examined the back wall of the closet and her interest
quickened. In the dim light she could make out a long crack. She tapped
the wall with her knuckles, and it had a hollow sound.
“I believe I’ve stumbled upon something important,” Nancy thought
excitedly.
With all her might she pushed upon the knob. Unexpectedly, a spring
clicked and the entire side of the closet wall dropped down!
[Illustration: She toppled forward and fell headlong down a steep
flight of stone steps.]
Nancy struggled to maintain her balance, but could not. She toppled
forward and fell headlong down a steep flight of stone steps.
A low cry of pain escaped her, and then she lay still.