Chapter XII
_Safe Find, Safe Bind_
Let me now pass over some six months concerning which there are noevents of particular moment to be recorded--I mean in connection withthe tragedy.
Late in December Betty and I were married very quietly-at S. Saviour'sChurch, Bob Mercer coming down to assist in the ceremony. During thesummer and autumn I had been absent almost continuously in Philadelphia,engaged in winding up the trusteeship which had formed the bulk of myprofessional work. Of course, I had already come to a full understandingwith my dear girl, and it was quite natural that she should continue tolive on at the "Hundred," the only home that she had ever known. Thepresence of Mrs. Anthony preserved the convenances; and, after longcogitation, I had formally requested Eunice Trevor to stay on, in herold capacity of paid companion to Betty. Perhaps it was an unwisedecision, but let me briefly recapitulate the influencingcircumstances. Here they are:
Eunice was Betty's first cousin, and the two girls had been brought uptogether, almost from infancy. Moreover, they were friendly, if notprecisely intimate. Eunice was absolutely penniless, and I could notsend her away, even with provision for her financial future, without afull explanation to Betty. Now whatever my surmises and suspicions therewas no direct evidence that Francis Graeme's death had been due toviolence; he was resting quietly in S. Saviour's churchyard, and Betty'ssorrow ought not to be reawakened except for grave cause. Whatever partEunice Trevor had taken in the tragedy--always assuming that there hadbeen a tragedy--must have been a consequent of her unfortunateentanglement with John Thaneford; and God knows she had been punishedfor her fault through the irremediable wound to her affections. I couldnot believe, moreover, that she had been an active participant in anycrime, overt or covert. Circumstances might have made her a confidante,even a tool, but she had not been an actual accessory to FrancisGraeme's death, either before or after the event. So much by way ofsimple justice to the girl.
In the second place, the chapter of incidents seemed to have closed withthe acquittal of Dave Campion and the disappearance of John Thaneford.No word of any kind had come from the latter, and his whereaboutsremained entirely unknown; it was a fair presumption that he never wouldreappear to trouble us. His financial affairs were hopelessly involved,and "Thane Court" itself was to be sold at public auction in February inorder to satisfy the demands of the creditors.
And finally, while the young woman's conduct had been indiscreet, if notabsolutely disloyal, her lesson had been an exceedingly bitter one, andit was charitable to assume that it had been taken to heart. After mymarriage to Betty in December it would be time enough to consider makingother arrangements. Yes, my decision was taken, and now it was necessaryto communicate it to Eunice herself.
Miss Trevor listened to my proposal in stony silence, but in the firstflush of my new happiness I could easily overlook even a directungraciousness. Mrs. Anthony was old and a semi-invalid; Betty wouldhave her cousin's companionship during my long continued absence North,and that was enough. The upshot of our conference was that Miss Trevoragreed to stay on at the "Hundred." She admitted that the arrangementwould be convenient, as the school position for which she had appliedwould not be available until the following September.
"Then it is settled," I concluded, with as much cordiality as I couldput into my voice. "I'm trusting Betty in your hands; you'll take goodcare of her."
"Yes, Mr. Hildebrand, I can certainly promise to do that," she began;then she broke off and looked away as though regretting that she hadsaid even that much.
"That's all I want," I said, "and I'm glad we understand each other." Imade a half motion to offer my hand, but she did not appear to noticethe gesture, and we parted. Again I felt a twinge of disquietude, butthe affair had been decided, and it was too late to reopen thediscussion. A strange creature was Eunice Trevor, but I believe even nowthat she did love Betty Graeme. If only she had never looked into JohnThaneford's baleful black eyes!
As I have said before, my marriage to Betty took place in the last partof December. We went to Aiken for the honeymoon, intending to be back atthe "Hundred" for the Christmas holidays. But we had been gone onlyfour days when we were recalled by Mrs. Anthony's fatal attack ofpneumonia. She died on December the twenty-third, and the holly wreathsand mistletoe remained unhung for our first Christmas in the oldhomestead, while the festivities of the season had to be confined to theservants' hall and the quarters. But we had Chalmers Warriner and DoctorMarcy in for dinner, and in my heart of hearts I was not sorry that thebig, county family functions had to be postponed indefinitely. I am aquiet person, and I best enjoy my happiness when there is no one to lookon. A selfish attitude perhaps, but I try to pay my debts to humanity inother ways. Generally Betty sees to it that I do so.
In February "Thane Court" was sold at auction, and I bought it in. Theproperty marched with that of the "Hundred," and being so well rid ofone objectionable neighbor I had no mind to run any chances. Moreover,the land was of excellent quality, impoverished, it is true, by want ofcare and scientific cropping, but still capable of revival underreasonable management. I had bid it in for a price far under its realvalue, and I could easily get a tenant in case I concluded not to farmit myself. The house was old and in poor condition, and I determined topull it down in the spring.
But I was spared the trouble, for one windy night in March I wasawakened by the light pressure of Betty's hand on my shoulder. "There isa big fire over in the west," she said excitedly, "and I think it mustbe 'Thane Court.'"
I scrambled into some clothes, summoned all the men within reach, andmade the best of my way to the scene of the conflagration, rather morethan a mile distant.
Betty was right. "Thane Court" was on fire, and it was evident, at aglance, that the house was doomed. Buckets and handpumps were useless,and long before the fire apparatus from Calverton could cover the tenmiles of rutted, frozen roads the edifice had been reduced to a smokingruin.
It was three or four days later before we could venture to explore thesmouldering debris. The furniture and other interior fittings were oldand of no great value; all, of course, had been totally destroyed. Theonly thing left intact was a small safe, which I was informed, had stoodin the room used by the elder Thaneford as an office. Now John Thanefordhad not appeared at the sale, nor had he taken any steps to protect whatinterests he still retained in the estate. Everything in and about"Thane Court" had become my legal property, and so I had no hesitationin ordering the safe taken over to the "Hundred," it being my intentionto open it and examine the contents. Of course any personal propertywould belong to John Thaneford, and I was quite sure of my own goodfaith in the matter. It might be impossible to locate the missing ownerfor some time to come, but we could cross that bridge when we came toit.
The safe was of comparatively modern workmanship, and seemed to havesuffered no damage from its ordeal by fire. It was equipped with theusual numbered dial lock, and, naturally, I did not possess thecombination. I could have sent for a safe expert from Baltimore, but theexpense would have been considerable. Or mechanics from Calverton couldhave forced an opening by means of the oxygen flame, but so violent aprocedure would have destroyed the safe itself, and I was not quitecertain that I had the right to take such drastic action. True, JohnThaneford had abandoned his property, and everything had been soldwithout reserve; nevertheless, I wanted to be sure of my ground beforegoing further.
The safe had been thoroughly cleansed, and now stood temporarily underthe principal staircase. I never passed it without an inquiring glance;somehow Betty and I could not resist the temptation of speculating aboutit; we were as curious as children, ever intent upon discovering whatsecrets it might hold. But how to find the key to the mystery?
And then one evening Betty had a brilliant idea. "Do you remember," sheasked, "a series of numbers that I got from Mr. Thaneford the day hedied?"
"Of course." I pulled out my note-book, and read the formula aloud:"1-4-2-4-8."
"He certainly wante
d to tell me something," persisted Betty. "Whyshouldn't it have been the very combination we are looking for?"
"Easy enough to find out," I answered. I went over to the safe, kneltdown and took hold of the knob. Betty stood at my elbow, the note-bookin her hand. "Ready?" she asked. "The numbers are: 1-4-2-4-8."
I turned the knob, counting the clicks as they passed. The door yieldedand swung open.
Not much of a find after all--nothing but a leather-bound bookresembling a diary in appearance. One of the covers had been slightlyscorched by the intense heat, but the MS. seemed to be in excellentcondition. I opened the book, scanned two or three lines, and looked upat Betty, who was leaning over my shoulder.
"Why it's just a jumble of letters!" she exclaimed in poignantdisappointment. "I can't read a word of it; what does it mean?"
"Undoubtedly written in cypher," I replied. We looked at one another andlaughed. Here indeed was an anti-climax.
In Jeopardy Page 12
