Jeanne of the MarshesOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
Jeanne of the Marshes
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories; English fiction -- 20th century
"You lie," she answered calmly. "You lie, as you always do whenever it
answers your purpose. Only an hour ago I lay upon the turf in the
plantation there, and I heard a man moaning down in the store-room. Now
tell me the truth, Cecil de la Borne. I do not wish to bring any harm
upon you, although God knows you deserve it, but if you do not bring me
the man whom you have down there, and set him free before my eyes at
once, I'll bring half the village up to the mound there and dig him
out."
Forrest stepped forward. His manner was suave and his tone was smooth,
but there was a dangerous glitter in his eyes.
"This is rather absurd, Cecil," he said. "I do not know whom this young
lady is, but I feel sure that she will listen to reason. There is no
one down in the smugglers' store-room. If she heard anything, it was
probably the rabbits."
"Lies!" Kate answered calmly. "You are another of the breed; I can see
it in your face. I would not trust the word of either of you."
Forrest shrugged his shoulders. He glanced towards Cecil with a slight
uplifting of the eyebrows.
"Your friend, my dear Cecil," he remarked, "is like most of her sex, a
trifle unreasonable. However, since she says that she will believe no
evidence save the evidence of her eyes, show her the smugglers' room.
It would be a quaint excursion to take at this time of night, but I
will go with you for the sake of the proprieties," he added, with a
little laugh.
Cecil looked at him for a moment steadily, and then turned away. There
was fear now upon his face, a new fear. What was this thing which
Forrest could propose?
"She can come if she insists," he said slowly, "but the place has not
been opened for a long time. The air is bad. It really is not fit for
any human being."
The girl faced them both without shrinking.
"Perhaps you think that I should be afraid," she answered. "Perhaps you
think that when I am there it would be very easy to dispose of me, so
that I shall ask no more inconvenient questions. Never mind. I am not
afraid. I will go with you."
Cecil shrugged his shoulders as he led the way across the hall.
"There is nothing to fear," he said, "except the bad air and the ghosts
of smugglers, if you are superstitious enough to fear them. Only, when
you are perfectly satisfied, and you are convinced that your errand
here has been fruitless, perhaps I may have something to say."
The girl's lips parted. Curiously enough there was a note almost of
real merriment in the laugh which followed.
"I am not very brave, my dear Cecil," she said, "but I am not afraid of
you. I think that one does not fear the things that one understands too
well, and you I do understand too well, much too well."
They reached the empty gun-room. Cecil threw open the hidden door.
"Will you go first or last?" he said to the girl. "Choose your own
place."
The girl laughed.
"The door seemed to open easily," she remarked, "considering that it
has not been used for so long."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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