XIV
ESPIONAGE
As I moved slowly away into the night the question thus raised in my ownmind assumed greater and more vital consequence. Was she a true woman orwhat my fears pictured her--the scheming, unprincipled abductor ofGwendolen Ocumpaugh? She looked true, sometimes acted so; but I hadheard and seen what would rouse any man's suspicions, and though I wasnot in a position to say: "Mrs. Carew, this was not your first visit tothat scene of old tragedy. You have been there before, and withGwendolen in your arms," I was morally certain that this was so; thatMrs. Ocumpaugh's most trusted friend was responsible for thedisappearance of her child, and I was not quite sure that the child wasnot now under her very roof.
It was very late by this time, but I meant, if possible, to settle someof these doubts before I left the neighborhood of the cottage.
How? By getting a glimpse of Mrs. Carew with her mask off; in thecompany of the child, if I could compass it; if not, then entirely alonewith her own thoughts, plans and subtleties.
It was an act more in line with my partner's talents than my own, but Icould not afford to let this deter me. I had had my chance with her,face to face. For hours I had been in her company. I had seen her invarious stages of emotion, sometimes real and sometimes assumed, but atno moment had I been sure of her, possibly because at no moment had shebeen sure of me. In our first visit to the bungalow; in her own littlelibrary, during the reading of that engrossing tale by which she had soevidently attempted to lull my suspicions awakened by her oneirrepressible show of alarm on the scene of Gwendolen's disappearance,and afterward when she saw that they might be so lulled but notdispelled; in the cellar; and, above all, in that walled-off room wherewe had come across the signs of Gwendolen's presence, which even shecould not disavow, she had felt my eyes upon her and made me consciousthat she had so felt them. Now she must believe them removed, and if Icould but gain the glimpse I speak of I should see this woman as shewas.
I thought I could manage this.
I had listened to the maid's steps as she returned up stairs, and Ibelieved I knew in what direction they had tended after she reached thefloor above. I would just see if one of the windows on the south sidewas lighted, and, if so, if it was in any way accessible.
To make my way through the shrubbery without rousing the attention ofany one inside or out required a circumspection that tried me greatly.But by dint of strong self-control I succeeded in getting to thevantage-place I sought, without attracting attention or causing a singlewindow to fly up. This reassured me, and perceiving a square of light inthe dark mass of wall before me I peered about among the treesoverlooking this part of the building for one I could climb without toomuch difficulty.
The one which looked most feasible was a maple withlow-growing-branches, and throwing off my coat I was soon half-way toits top and on a level, or nearly so, with the window on which I hadfixed my eye.
There were no curtains to this window--the house being half dismantledin anticipation of Mrs. Carew's departure--but it was still protected bya shade, and this was drawn down, nearly to the ledge.
But not quite. A narrow space intervened which, to an eye placed wheremine was, offered a peep-hole of more or less satisfactory proportions,and this space, I soon saw, widened perceptibly from time to time as thewind caught at the shade and blew it in.
With utmost caution I shifted my position till I could bring my eyefairly in line with the interior of this room, and finding that theglimpse given revealed little but a blue wall and some snowy linen, Iwaited for the breeze to blow that I might see more.
It came speedily, and in a gust which lifted the shade and thusdisclosed the whole inside of the room. It was an instantaneous glimpse,but in that moment the picture projected upon my eye satisfied me that,despite my doubts, despite my causes for suspicion, I had been doingthis woman the greatest injustice in supposing that her relations tothe child she had brought into her home were other than she had madeout.
She had come up as she had promised, and had seated herself on the bedwith her face turned toward the window. I could thus catch its wholeexpression--an expression this time involuntary and natural as thefeelings which prompted it. The child, with his newly-obtained toyclutched in one hand, knelt on the coverlet with his head pressedagainst her breast, saying his prayers. I could hear his soft murmur,though I could not catch the words.
But sweet as was the sight of his little white-clad form burying itshead, with its mass of dusky curls, against the breast in which he mostconfided, it was not this alone which gave to the moment its almostsacred character. It was the rapturous look with which Mrs. Carew gazeddown on this little head--the mother-look, which admits of nothingfalse, and which when once seen on a woman's face, whether she be motherin fact or mother only in heart--idealizes her in the mind for ever.
Eloquent with love and holy devotion the scene flashed upon my eyes fora moment and was gone. But that moment made its impression, and settledfor good and all the question with which I had started upon thisadventure. She _was_ the true woman and I was the dreaming fool.
As I realized this I also realized that three days out of the seven weregone.
The Millionaire Baby Page 14