"I do hope, Miss Trelawny, that you understand that I amwilling--frankly and unequivocally willing--to do anything I can,within the limits of my power, to relieve your distress. But yourFather had, in all his doings, some purpose of his own which he did notdisclose to me. So far as I can see, there is not a word of hisinstructions that he had not thought over fully. Whatever idea he hadin his mind was the idea of a lifetime; he had studied it in everypossible phase, and was prepared to guard it at every point.
"Now I fear I have distressed you, and I am truly sorry for it; for Isee you have much--too much--to bear already. But I have noalternative. If you want to consult me at any time about anything, Ipromise you I will come without a moment's delay, at any hour of theday or night. There is my private address," he scribbled in hispocket-book as he spoke, "and under it the address of my club, where Iam generally to be found in the evening." He tore out the paper andhanded it to her. She thanked him. He shook hands with her and withme and withdrew.
As soon as the hall door was shut on him, Mrs. Grant tapped at the doorand came in. There was such a look of distress in her face that MissTrelawny stood up, deadly white, and asked her:
"What is it, Mrs. Grant? What is it? Any new trouble?"
"I grieve to say, miss, that the servants, all
but two, have givennotice and want to leave the house today. They have talked the matterover among themselves; the butler has spoken for the rest. He says ashow they are willing to forego their wages, and even to pay their legalobligations instead of notice; but that go today they must."
"What reason do they give?"
"None, miss. They say as how they're sorry, but that they've nothingto say. I asked Jane, the upper housemaid, miss, who is not with therest but stops on; and she tells me confidential that they've got somenotion in their silly heads that the house is haunted!"
We ought to have laughed, but we didn't. I could not look in MissTrelawny's face and laugh. The pain and horror there showed no suddenparoxysm of fear; there was a fixed idea of which this was aconfirmation. For myself, it seemed as if my brain had found a voice.But the voice was not complete; there was some other thought, darkerand deeper, which lay behind it, whose voice had not sounded as yet.
Chapter VI
Suspicions
The first to get full self-command was Miss Trelawny. There was ahaughty dignity in her bearing as she said:
"Very well, Mrs. Grant; let them go! Pay them up to today, and amonth's wages. They have hitherto been very good servants; and theoccasion of their leaving is not an ordinary one. We must not expectmuch faithfulness from any one who is beset with fears. Those whoremain are to have in future double wages; and please send these to mepresently when I send word." Mrs. Grant bristled with smotheredindignation; all the housekeeper in her was outraged by such generoustreatment of servants who had combined to give notice:
"They don't deserve it, miss; them to go on so, after the way they havebeen treated here. Never in my life have I seen servants so welltreated or anyone so good to them and gracious to them as you havebeen. They might be in the household of a King for treatment. And now,just as there is trouble, to go and act like this. It's abominable,that's what it is!"
Miss Trelawny was very gentle with her, and smothered her ruffleddignity; so that presently she went away with, in her manner, a lessermeasure of hostility to the undeserving. In quite a different frame ofmind she returned presently to ask if her mistress would like her toengage a full staff of other servants, or at any rate try to do so."For you know, ma'am," she went on, "when once a scare has beenestablished in the servants' hall, it's wellnigh impossible to get ridof it. Servants may come; but they go away just as quick. There's noholding them. They simply won't stay; or even if they work out theirmonth's notice, they lead you that life that you wish every hour of theday that you hadn't kept them. The women are bad enough, the huzzies;but the men are worse!" There was neither anxiety nor indignation inMiss Trelawny's voice or manner as she said:
"I think, Mrs. Grant, we had better try to do with those we have.Whilst my dear Father is ill we shall not be having any company, sothat there will be only three now in the house to attend to. If thoseservants who are willing to stay are not enough, I should only getsufficient to help them to do the work. It will not, I should think,be difficult to get a few maids; perhaps some that you know already.And please bear in mind, that those whom you get, and who are suitableand will stay, are henceforth to have the same wages as those who areremaining. Of course, Mrs. Grant, you well enough understand thatthough I do not group you in any way with the servants, the rule ofdouble salary applies to you too." As she spoke she extended her long,fine-shaped hand, which the other took and then, raising it to herlips, kissed it impressively with the freedom of an elder woman to ayounger. I could not but admire the generosity of her treatment of herservants. In my mind I endorsed Mrs. Grant's sotto voce remark as sheleft the room:
"No wonder the house is like a King's house, when the mistress is aPrincess!"
"A Princess!" That was it. The idea seemed to satisfy my mind, and tobring back in a wave of light the first moment when she swept across myvision at the ball in Belgrave Square. A queenly figure! tall andslim, bending, swaying, undulating as the lily or the lotos. Clad in aflowing gown of some filmy black material shot with gold. For ornamentin her hair she wore an old Egyptian jewel, a tiny crystal disk, setbetween rising plumes carved in lapis lazuli. On her wrist was a broadbangle or bracelet of antique work, in the shape of a pair of spreadingwings wrought in gold, with the feathers made of coloured gems. Forall her gracious bearing toward me, when our hostess introduced me, Iwas then afraid of her. It was only when later, at the picnic on theriver, I had come to realise her sweet and gentle, that my awe changedto something else.
For a while she sat, making some notes or memoranda. Then putting themaway, she sent for the faithful servants. I thought that she hadbetter have this interview alone, and so left her. When I came backthere were traces of tears in her eyes.
The next phase in which I had a part was even more disturbing, andinfinitely more painful. Late in the afternoon Sergeant Daw came intothe study where I was sitting. After closing the door carefully andlooking all round the room to make certain that we were alone, he cameclose to me.
"What is it?" I asked him. "I see you wish to speak to me privately."
"Quite so, sir! May I speak in absolute confidence?"
"Of course you may. In anything that is for the good of MissTrelawny--and of course Mr. Trelawny--you may be perfectly frank. Itake it that we both want to serve them to the best of our powers." Hehesitated before replying:
"Of course you know that I have my duty to do; and I think you know mewell enough to know that I will do it. I am a policeman--a detective;and it is my duty to find out the facts of any case I am put on,without fear or favour to anyone. I would rather speak to you alone,in confidence if I may, without reference to any duty of anyone toanyone, except mine to Scotland Yard."
"Of course! of course!" I answered mechanically, my heart sinking, Idid not know why. "Be quite frank with me. I assure you of myconfidence."
"Thank you, sir. I take it that what I say is not to pass beyondyou--not to anyone. Not to Miss Trelawny herself, or even to Mr.Trelawny when he becomes well again."
"Certainly, if you make it a condition!" I said a little more stiffly.The man recognised the change in my voice or manner, and saidapologetically:
"Excuse me, sir, but I am going outside my duty in speaking to you atall on the subject. I know you, however, of old; and I feel that I cantrust you. Not your word, sir, that is all right; but your discretion!"
I bowed. "Go on!" I said. He began at once:
"I have gone over this case, sir, till my brain begins to reel; but Ican't find any ordinary solution of it. At the time of each attempt noone has seemingly come into the house; and certainly no one has gotout. What does it strike you is the inference?"