WHO HAS TAKEN THE KEY?
Punctual to the hour, and in a suitable evening dress, Rupert Colchester
appeared at the Achesons’ house. Mrs. Acheson received him with her
usual kindness. She was alone in the room when the young man happened to
put in an appearance.
“Do you know,” she said, “that I am quite glad to have an opportunity of
seeing you by yourself. I am not at all happy about your sister.”
“Indeed,” replied Rupert, putting on a sympathetic and very interested
air. “Be sure of this, that anything you may happen to say to me about
Annie will have my most tender consideration and my deepest interest.
Annie and I are practically alone in the world. What is wrong with the
dear girl?”
“She is very far from well; that I can see,” replied Mrs. Acheson. “She
is also very much depressed, unnaturally so; and do you know, Mr.
Colchester, that she did not know anything about your appointment in the
Civil Service. She was amazed when I told her you were going to India.”
“Ah!” said Rupert, thoughtfully tapping the back of his heel against the
brass rail of the fireplace, “I felt sure she would feel it dreadfully.
The fact is, up to the present I have not dared to break the news to
her, she is so intensely affectionate. Of course I intended to do so
to-night. Now that you have done so, it is a great relief to me. She
will not feel it so dreadfully after a little; and I know I can buoy her
up with hope, for my intention is that she shall join me in a year or
two. She shall be my housekeeper until she enters a good home of her
own. I could not think of marrying until my dear Annie had a home of her
own.”
“I felt certain that you had a good motive in keeping the important news
back from her,” replied innocent Mrs. Acheson; “and I respect you all
the more for your consideration.”
Just at that instant Belle and Annie entered the room. Belle wore her
best dress. It was not much to look at; but something very great and
uncommon must have induced her to put it on. It was made of soft black
silk, and had ruffles of lace round the neck and wrists. She wore also a
very narrow gold chain round her neck. When Rupert spoke to her, Belle
found herself blushing.
Dinner was announced. Mrs. Acheson asked him to take her daughter down,
and she herself conducted Annie to the dining-room. Annie had made no
attempt to improve her appearance; she sat, feeling shy and
uncomfortable, scarcely opening her lips, while Rupert carried the
conversation his own way. He was a clever man, and he contrived on the
present occasion to make himself quite brilliant. He talked about India,
spoke of the liner in which he was going out; turned aside to Annie to
say, “I will explain everything to you, my dear, presently”; told good
stories about his early life in America, and then about his education in
London; and managed to delight both Mrs. Acheson and Belle by the peep
he gave them into a world which they had never entered. His manners to
Belle were all that could be desired. He was extremely courteous and
deferential and managed to convey a touch of admiration which was never
unduly obtrusive. Such a strong effect did he have upon her that she
forgot her beloved classics as she listened to him.
The meal came to an end, and when the ladies rose Rupert accompanied
them to the drawing-room.
“No wine for me, thanks,” he said. “I am practically a teetotaler.” He
then drew a chair near Belle’s side, and contrived to draw her into a
literary conversation of deep interest.
Annie felt on thorns as she watched the two. More firmly each moment was
she making up her mind. If Rupert dared to ask Belle to lend him any of
the money in the wooden box she would confess all. She felt herself a
hypocrite, and could scarcely stand Mrs. Acheson’s kind and affectionate
remarks.
At last the slow evening came to an end. By this time Rupert had
perambulated almost every foot of the drawing-room. He had stood close
to the box—once his hand had touched it. It was when he was looking at
Belle’s precious Greek Testament which lay on top of it. Rupert quoted a
few sentences out of the Testament in his melodious voice to Belle, who
nodded and praised his accent. He then went and stood in the deep
embrasure of the window, looked out at the moon, which threw its
radiance over the garden outside, and all of a sudden, without the least
warning, began to talk of burglars.
“This is a very nice house,” he said; “but with that garden at the back
it is not too safe; and you have no men on the premises, have you?”
“No,” said Belle; “but I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Well, I have the greatest dread of burglars breaking into a house
inhabited only by women.”
“Oh, we are not at all afraid,” replied Belle. “Who would burgle here?
We have no special valuables; a very little silver, no more. Besides,
the windows are all thoroughly secured.”
She showed the device of the latch to Rupert, who said it was clever,
very ingenious indeed. A moment or two afterwards he took his leave. As
he did so, he nodded to Annie.
“See you to-morrow, little sis,” he said. “Cheer up about India, old
girl; you shall come and join me by and by.—Good-by, Mrs. Acheson; I
cannot tell you how I have enjoyed my evening.”
To Belle he did not say a word about his special enjoyment; but he gave
her a look full of eloquence. She found herself blushing, and her heart
beat a trifle quicker than its wont.
When the hall-door closed behind him, both ladies were eloquent in his
praise.
“A charming fellow, and what a nice expression!” said Mrs. Acheson.
“He is a clever, which is better than being a charming, man,” said
Belle; “he has a great and sincere respect for all learning. In his way
he is an enthusiast. I do not care for conversation with men as a rule;
but I must own that I respect Mr. Colchester, and enjoy talking to him.
He is so sincere and so straightforward.”
“May I go to bed?” said Annie suddenly. “I have a bad headache, and
should like to lie down.”
“Oh, poor child,” said Mrs. Acheson, “I do hope you are not sickening
for anything, dear. You have looked so ill since you have been with us.
Will you have some sal-volatile or eau-de-Cologne? What do you take when
you have bad headaches?”
“Nothing,” answered Annie. “I lie down and try to sleep.”
She hurried from the room, scarcely waiting to bid either lady
good-night. Mrs. Acheson and Belle sat up a little longer, then they
also retired for the night.
Annie had lain down on her bed without undressing. It is true she pulled
the counterpane over her in case Mrs. Acheson or Belle should come into
the room; but sleep was far from her wakeful eyes.
By and by the house grew quiet. She heard the servants going up to their
attics overhead; she heard Mrs. Acheson shut herself into her own room,
and Belle shut herself into hers. Belle slept with her door locked, and
Annie heard the key being turned. A few moments later profound silence
fell upon the house; the lights were all out. One by one the inhabitants
slept, all but Annie, who lay with every nerve tingling and her sense of
waiting preternaturally acute.
While Rupert had been in the house she had followed all his movements
with a terrible knowledge of him and his ways which gave her the clew to
much that he was doing. When he laid his hand on the wooden box, Annie
felt as if a burning-red hand had touched her own heart. When he stood
by the window she could scarcely contain her uneasiness. When he spoke
about burglars it seemed to her that the whole of what was immediately
to follow was laid bare to her. Rupert was in desperate straits; he
would stop at nothing to achieve his object. Was it possible that he,
the man whom Annie loved, whose father had been good and respectable,
whose mother had been one of the gentlest and sweetest of women, would
stoop as low as this? Alas! Annie feared it. Now was her time for
action. She slipped softly out of bed, unfastened her door without
making any noise, and glided down through the silent house. Mrs. and
Miss Acheson were both sound sleepers; the servants were far away. She
reached the ground floor, turned the handle of the drawing-room door,
found the door locked from the outside. Taking great care, she unlocked
it, still without making any sound. Then, in her stockinged feet she
crossed the room and took her place in shadow close to the window where
Rupert had stood that evening.
The moon was still up, and its light fell across the room. The
drawing-room had three large windows with Venetian blinds. It looked on
to a fair-sized garden; the windows were not more than three feet from
the ground. Annie now observed with increased apprehension that the
blind to this window was up. She instantly remembered that it had got
out of order that morning, and heard Mrs. Acheson say that she must send
for a man to repair it. Rupert must have also noticed that fact as he
stood with Belle close to the window.
Annie got still deeper into the shadow of the thick curtains, and
waited. All too soon she heard just what she expected to hear—steps in
the garden outside; the steps approached the window. The bright flood of
moonlight was broken by a huge shadow; a man was standing on the
window-sill. Annie did not stir. She heard the grating noise of a small
diamond against the glass; a square was quickly cut out, a hand and arm
intruded themselves, and the hasp, the construction of which had been
explained to Rupert by Belle, was quickly unfastened. The next instant
the window was lifted, and Rupert Colchester stepped into the room. He
went at once to the table where the wooden box stood, laid his hand on
it, and was about to turn back when Annie, making a sudden movement,
confronted him, standing in the white light caused by the moon.
“You must put that box back, Rupert,” said Annie; “if you don’t I shall
call out.”
Her sudden and unlooked-for appearance and her brave words staggered the
man. He was holding the box in his hand. He dropped it now in his
agitation. Before he could stoop to pick it up, Annie had snatched at
it, flown across the room, and put it out into the hall. She then locked
the drawing-room door, and slipped the key into her pocket.
“Now, Rupert,” she said, coming back to him, “the window is open, and
you can go. I know you won’t injure me, for, after all, however wicked
you are, I am your own sister, and the only person in all the world who
loves you. You can go, Rupert; you can escape; the way is clear. But
steal that box you don’t; I would rather die than let you.”
By this time the astonished and discomfited man had found his voice.
“I have not come here to be betrayed by you,” he said. “I am desperate,
so you had best leave me alone. Give me the key of the door this minute;
if you don’t I shall take it by force.”
“Rupert, I hear someone stirring overhead: Mrs. Acheson has heard you
already. Oh, go, for Heaven’s sake.”
“A nice position you’ll be in,” he said with a sneer.
The noise in the room above was more audible than ever. Someone was
heard walking across it.
“You’ve done for me,” he cried. “A nice sister you are! Yes, I suppose I
had best hook it.”
Steps were now heard coming downstairs. Rupert, scowling at Annie, made
a rush to the window, put his foot over the ledge and disappeared. He
had scarcely done so before Mrs. Acheson’s voice was heard calling at
the other side of the locked door.
“Is anybody in this room?” she cried. “Who has taken the key? What is
wrong?”
Annie thought for a moment; she then walked straight to the door and
flung it open.
“How you frightened me,” said Mrs. Acheson, coming in. “My dear child,
what is the matter? How terrible you look! What is wrong?”
“I have had a fright,” replied Annie; “there has been an attempt at
burglary.” She shook all over. “Don’t question me now, for I cannot bear
it,” she said. “It is safe—he has not taken it. Do you see the square
cut out of that pane of glass? He came in that way; he was just about to
take the box when I showed myself.”
“The box, child? What box?”
“Belle’s wooden box.”
“What! that wooden box that Belle keeps full of coins?”
“Yes, the same. I saved it; it is in the hall. I—I feel a little faint.”
“Poor child, no wonder! What a terrible scare you have had! Who would
have supposed that burglars would come to us? Well, dear, if the box had
been stolen, how disappointed they would have been to find only ordinary
coins. But come upstairs, Annie; I must get you some sal-volatile at
once.”
Mrs. Acheson dragged Annie upstairs, then went to the servants,
awoke them, and sent two of them off immediately to the nearest
police-station. She questioned Annie still further with regard to the
burglary; but could get little or nothing out of her, and concluded that
she was stunned by the sudden shock. It was not until the widow had gone
back to her room that she remembered how very strange it was that Annie
should have locked the drawing-room door, how still stranger it was for
Annie to be in the drawing-room at all. She was not naturally
suspicious: but these circumstances did cause her a little serious
thought.
When the morning dawned she went to her daughter’s bedroom.
Belle had heard nothing of the adventures of the previous night, and was
considerably annoyed when her mother rattled the handle of the locked
door, and asked for admission. Belle opened the door, and then stood
somewhat crossly waiting for Mrs. Acheson to speak.
“What is the matter?” she asked.
The widow related what had occurred; said that she had found Annie in
the drawing-room with the door locked, and Belle’s wooden box of coins
at the other side.
“My coins! my treasures!” said Belle, color and animation rushing into
her face. “How brave of dear Annie: how splendid of her! I know why she
did it; it is unnecessary to explain the matter to you just at present,
mother. I can only say that the box was full of valuables, and dear,
brave little Annie has rescued them. Oh, she and I must indeed be one
after this, all during the remainder of our lives. How queer, mother; it
was only last night Mr. Colchester said something about burglars. He
seemed to think we were in danger with the drawing-room window so close
to the ground and looking into the garden; but I explained to him the
ingenious way in which the windows were fastened, and then he seemed to
think we were absolutely safe. I must go at once now to dear Annie, and
thank her.”
“I wish you would, Belle; she was very sad last night, poor child. But,
my dear, I never knew there were valuables in the box. You only spoke of
coins.”
“Coins of the realm,” said Belle with a laugh; “very nearly one hundred
pounds, money I have saved from my college expenses for a noble purpose.
Don’t question me now, mother; I will tell you by and by.”
Belle put on her dressing-gown and ran across the landing to Annie’s
door. She knocked; there was no answer. She turned the handle and
entered, Annie’s bed was empty—Annie herself had disappeared.