Burglars -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Husband and wife -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
He ran off quickly. The mere thought of his mother had always the power
to depress him, but his spirits were high to-night.
He soon found the postern door, and let himself in. The garden was not
large; he quickly ran across it, and found the back door of the house.
Here he knocked with his knuckles as Hester had desired him to do. His
first knock was unanswered. He repeated it in some impatience. This
time he was evidently heard. He saw through the fanlight overhead the
light of a candle coming nearer and nearer. The next moment the door was
cautiously opened, and a voice said, in muffled tones:
“Who is there?”
“It’s me, Murray Cameron,” said the child.
“Then you are just the person we want, Murray Cameron,” answered the
voice.
A hand was cautiously put out, and the child was pulled into the house.
The candle was immediately extinguished; a cloth was thrown over the
little fellow’s face. He found himself lifted into somebody’s arms and
carried—he did not know where.
CHAPTER XXVI.
A “PLANT.”
Until the daylight dawned in the far east the merry ball went on. Even
with daylight the happy dancers were scarcely willing to give up such
glorious fun; but the happiest times must come to an end, and at long
length the sound of the last carriage wheels was heard to die away upon
the gravel outside the old house. The guests who were staying in the
house retired to their various rooms, and Nance, Lady Georgina, and
Rowton found themselves for a moment alone together.
“I am dead tired, of course,” said Lady Georgina, “but I really may as
well say frankly that I never had a better time in my life. The whole
thing was so young and yet so old.”
“What do you mean by that conundrum?” asked Rowton with a careless laugh.
“Must I unriddle my riddle?” she replied. “Well, then, here’s the answer.
The ball was young because it was spirited and absolutely unconventional;
it was old because it seemed to partake of a certain last century
flavour—the room, the situation, certain memories, all conspired to that;
but most of all was the last century flavour accentuated by Dame Rowton’s
presence.” Here Lady Georgina gave a mock but graceful bow in pretty
Nancy’s direction. “Have I explained myself?” she said, turning her
bright eyes full on Rowton’s somewhat flushed but handsome face.
“Perfectly,” he replied. “You have the gift, Lady Georgina, of making
very neat compliments. Now I vote that we all go to bed and discuss the
charms of our house-warming to-morrow.”
“By the way,” said Lady Georgina, as she prepared to leave the room, “I
missed one person towards the end of the evening. Who was it ordered
little Murray off to bed so early?”
“Murray to bed!” exclaimed Nancy. “Why, surely he never went to bed. He
begged of me to let him stay up during the entire night, and, perhaps not
very wisely, I gave him leave. The fact is, I did not think the child
could sleep with so much noise going on.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account