Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth

by Anna Katharine Green

  XXXI

  STRATEGY

  I was overwhelmed.

  "What," said I, "you still doubt?"

  "I always doubt," he gravely replied. "This cellar bottom offers a widefield for speculation. Too wide, perhaps, but, then, I have a plan."

  Here he leaned over and whispered a few concise sentences into my ear ina tone so low I should feel that I was betraying his confidence inrepeating them. But their import will soon become apparent from whatpresently occurred.

  "Light Miss Butterworth to the stairway," Mr. Gryce now commanded one ofthe men, and thus accompanied I found my way back to the kitchen, whereHannah was bemoaning uncomforted the shame which had come upon thehouse.

  I did not stop to soothe her. That was not my cue, nor would it haveanswered my purpose. On the contrary, I broke into angry ejaculations asI passed her:

  "What a shame! Those wretches cannot be got away from the cellar. Whatdo you suppose they expect to find there? I left them poking hither andthither in a way that will be very irritating to Miss Knollys when shefinds it out. I wonder William stands it."

  What she said in reply I do not know. I was half way down the hallbefore my own words were finished.

  My next move was to go to my room and take from my trunk a tiny hammerand some very small, sharp-pointed tacks. Curious articles, you willthink, for a woman to carry on her travels, but I am a woman ofexperience, and have known only too often what it was to want thesepetty conveniences and not be able to get them. They were to serve me anodd turn now. Taking a half-dozen tacks in one hand and concealing thehammer in my bag, I started boldly for William's room. I knew that thegirls were not there, for I had heard them talking together in thesitting-room as I came up. Besides, if they were, I had a ready answerfor any demand they might make.

  Searching out his boots, I turned them over, and into the sole of each Idrove one of my small tacks. Then I put them back in the same place andposition in which I found them. Task number one was accomplished.

  When I issued from the room, I went as quickly as I could below. I wasnow ready for a talk with the girls, whom I found as I had anticipated,talking and weeping together in the sitting-room.

  They rose as I came in, awaiting my first words in evident anxiety. Theyhad not heard me go up-stairs. I immediately allowed my anxiety andprofound interest in this matter to have full play.

  "My poor girls! What is the meaning of this? Your mother just dead, andthe matter kept from me, her friend! It is astounding--incomprehensible!I do not know what to make of it or of you."

  "It has a strange look," Loreen gravely admitted; "but we had reasonsfor this deception, Miss Butterworth. Our mother, charming and sweet asyou remember her, has not always done right, or, what you will betterunderstand, she committed a criminal act against a person in this town,the penalty of which is state's prison."

  With difficulty the words came out. With difficulty she kept down theflush of shame which threatened to overwhelm her and did overwhelm hermore sensitive sister. But her self-control was great, and she wentbravely on, while I, in faint imitation of her courage, restrained myown surprise and intolerable sense of shock and bitter sorrow under aguise of simple sympathy.

  "It was forgery," she explained. "This has never before passed our lips.Though a cherished wife and a beloved mother, she longed for many thingsmy father could not give her, and in an evil hour she imitated the nameof a rich man here and took the check thus signed to New York. The fraudwas not detected, and she received the money, but ultimately the richman whose money she had spent, discovered the use she had made of hisname, and, if she had not escaped, would have had her arrested. But sheleft the country, and the only revenge he took, was to swear that if sheever set foot again in X., he would call the police down upon her. Yes,if she were dying, and they had to drag her from the brink of the grave.And he would have done it; and knowing this, we have lived under theshadow of this fear for eleven years. My father died under it, and mymother--ah, she spent all the remaining years of her life under foreignskies, but when she felt the hand of death upon her, her affection forher own flesh and blood triumphed over her discretion, and she came,secretly, I own, but still with that horror menacing her, to thesedoors, and begging our forgiveness, lay down under the roof where wewere born, and died with the halo of our love about her."

  "Ah," said I, thinking of all that had happened since I had come intothis house and finding nothing but confirmation of what she was saying,"I begin to understand."

  But Lucetta shook her head.

  "No," said she, "you cannot understand yet. We who had worn mourning forher because my father wished to make this very return impossible, knewnothing of what was in store for us till a letter came saying she wouldbe at the C. station on the very night we received it. To acknowledgeour deception, to seek and bring her home openly to this house, couldnot be thought of for a moment. How, then, could we satisfy her dyingwishes without compromising her memory and ourselves? Perhaps you haveguessed, Miss Butterworth. You have had time since we revealed theunhappy secret of this household."

  "Yes," said I. "I have guessed."

  Lucetta, with her hand laid on mine, looked wistfully into my face.

  "Don't blame us!" she cried. "Our mother's good name is everything tous, and we knew no other way to preserve it than by making use of theone superstition of this place. Alas! our efforts were in vain. Thephantom coach brought our mother safely to us, but the circumstanceswhich led to our doors being opened to outsiders, rendered it impossiblefor us to carry out our plans unsuspected. Her grave has been discoveredand desecrated, and we----"

  She stopped, choked. Loreen took advantage of her silence to pursue theexplanations she seemed to think necessary.

  "It was Simsbury who undertook to bring our dying mother from C. stationto our door. He has a crafty spirit under his meek ways, and dressedhimself in a way to lend color to the superstition he hoped to awaken.William, who did not dare to accompany him for fear of arousing gossip,was at the gate when the coach drove in. It was he who lifted our motherout, and it was while she still clung to him with her face pressed closeto his breast that we saw her first. Ah! what a pitiable sight it was!She was so wan, so feeble, and yet so radiantly happy.

  "She looked up at Lucetta, and her face grew wonderful in its unearthlybeauty. She was not the mother we remembered, but a mother whose lifehad culminated in the one desire to see and clasp her children again.When she could tear her eyes away from Lucetta, she looked at me, andthen the tears came, and we all wept together, even William; and thusweeping and murmuring words of welcome and cheer, we carried herup-stairs and laid her in the great front chamber. Alas! we did notforesee what would happen the very next morning--I mean the arrival ofyour telegram, to be followed so soon by yourself."

  "Poor girls! Poor girls!" It was all I could say. I was completelyoverwhelmed.

  "The first night after your arrival we moved her into William's room asbeing more remote and thus a safer refuge for her. The next night shedied. The dream which you had of being locked in your room was no dream.Lucetta did that in foolish precaution against your trying to search usout in the night. It would have been better if we had taken you into ourconfidence."

  "Yes," I assented, "that would have been better." But I did not say howmuch better. That would have been giving away my secret.

  Lucetta had now recovered sufficiently to go on with the story.

  "William, who is naturally colder than we and less sensitive in regardto our mother's good name, has shown some little impatience at therestraint imposed upon him by her presence, and this was an extraburden, Miss Butterworth, but that and all the others we have beenforced to bear" (the generous girl did not speak of her own specialgrief and loss) "have all been rendered useless by the unhappy chancewhich has brought into our midst this agent of the police. Ah, if I onlyknew whether this was the providence of God rebuking us for years ofdeception, or just the malice of man seeking to rob us of our one besttreasure, a mother
's untarnished name!"

  "Mr. Gryce acts from no malice--" I began, but I saw they were notlistening.

  "Have they finished down below?" asked Lucetta.

  "Does the man you call Gryce seem satisfied?" asked Loreen.

  I drew myself up physically and mentally. My second task was about tobegin.

  "I do not understand those men," said I. "They seem to want to lookfarther than the sacred spot where we left them. If they are goingthrough a form, they are doing it very thoroughly."

  "That is their duty," observed Loreen, but Lucetta took it less calmly.

  "It is an unhappy day for us!" cried she. "Shame after shame, disgraceupon disgrace! I wish we had all died in our childhood. Loreen, I mustsee William. He will be doing some foolish thing, swearing or----"

  "My dear, let me go to William," I urgently put in. "He may not like meovermuch, but I will at least prove a restraint to him. You are toofeeble. See, you ought to be lying on the couch instead of trying todrag yourself out to the stables."

  And indeed at that moment Lucetta's strength gave suddenly out, and shesank into Loreen's arms insensible.

  When she was restored, I hurried away to the stables, still in pursuitof the task which I had not yet completed. I found William sittingdoggedly on a stool in the open doorway, grunting out short sentences tothe two men who lounged in his vicinity on either side. He was angry,but not as angry as I had seen him many times before. The men weretownsfolk and listened eagerly to his broken sentences. One or two ofthese reached my ears.

  "Let 'em go it. It won't be now or to-day they'll settle this business.It's the devil's work, and devils are sly. My house won't give up thatsecret, or any other house they'll be likely to visit. The place Iwould ransack--But Loreen would say I was babbling. Goodness knows afellow's got to talk about something when his fellow-townsfolk come tosee him." And here his laugh broke in, harsh, cruel, and insulting. Ifelt it did him no good, and made haste to show myself.

  Immediately his whole appearance changed. He was so astonished to see methere that for a moment he was absolutely silent; then he broke outagain into another loud guffaw, but this time in a different tone.

  "Why, it's Miss Butterworth," he laughed. "Here, Saracen! Come, pay yourrespects to the lady who likes you so well."

  And Saracen came, but I did not forsake my ground. I had espied in onecorner just what I had hoped to see there, and Saracen's presenceafforded me the opportunity of indulging in one or two rather curiousantics.

  "I am not afraid of the dog," I declared, with marked loftiness,shrinking toward the pail of water I had already marked with my eye."Not at all afraid," I continued, catching up the pail and putting itbefore me as the dog made a wild rush in my direction. "These gentlemenwill not see me hurt." And though they all laughed--they would have beenfools if they had not--and the dog jumped the pail and I jumped--not apail, but a broom-handle that was lying amid all the rest of thedisorder on the floor--they did not see that I had succeeded in doingwhat I wished, which was to place that pail so near to William's feetthat--But wait a moment; everything in its own time. I escaped the dog,and next moment had my eye on him. He did not move after that, whichrather put a stop to the laughter, which observing, I drew very near toWilliam, and with a sly gesture to the two men, which for some reasonthey seemed to understand, whispered in the rude fellow's ear:

  "They've found your mother's grave under the Flower Parlor. Your sisterstold me to tell you. But that is not all. They're trampling hither andyon through all the secret places in the cellar, turning up the earthwith their spades. I know they won't find anything, but we thought youought to know----"

  Here I made a feint of being startled, and ceased. My second task wasdone. The third only remained. Fortunately at that moment Mr. Gryce andhis followers showed themselves in the garden. They had just come fromthe cellar and played their part in the same spirit I had mine. Thoughthey were too far off for their words to be heard, the air of secrecythey maintained and the dubious looks they cast towards the stable,could not but evince even to William's dull understanding that theirinvestigations had resulted in a doubt which left them far fromsatisfied; but, once this impression made, they did not linger longtogether. The man with the lantern moved off, and Mr. Gryce turnedtowards us, changing his whole appearance as he advanced, till no onecould look more cheerful and good-humored.

  "Well, that is over," he sighed, with a forced air of infinite relief."Mere form, Mr. Knollys--mere form. We have to go through thesepretended investigations at times, and good people like yourself have tosubmit; but I assure you it is not pleasant, and under the presentcircumstances--I am sure you understand me, Mr. Knollys--the task hasoccasioned me a feeling almost of remorse; but that is inseparable froma detective's life. He is obliged every day of his life to ride over thetenderest emotions. Forgive me! And now, boys, scatter till I call youtogether again. I hope our next search will be without such sorrowfulaccompaniments."

  It succeeded. William stared at him and stared at the men slowly filingoff down the yard, but was not for a moment deceived by theseoverflowing expressions. On the contrary, he looked more concerned thanhe had while seated between the two men manifestly set to guard him.

  "The deuce!" he cried, with a shrug of his shoulders that expressedanything but satisfaction. "Lucetta always said--" But even he knewenough not to finish that sentence, low as he had mumbled it. Watchinghim and watching Mr. Gryce, who at that moment turned to follow his men,I thought the time had come for action. Making another spring as if infresh terror of Saracen, who, by the way, was eying me with the meeknessof a lamb, I tipped over that pail with such suddenness and with suchdexterity that its whole contents poured in one flood over William'sfeet. My third task was accomplished.

  The oath he uttered and the excuses which I volubly poured forth couldnot have reached Mr. Gryce's ears, for he did not return. And yet fromthe way his shoulders shook as he disappeared around the corner of thehouse, I judge that he was not entirely ignorant of the subterfuge bywhich I hoped to force this blundering booby of ours to change the bootshe wore for one of the pairs into which I had driven those little tacks.