Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia ButterworthGreen, Anna Katharine
General
Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories; New York (State) -- Fiction
The girls had withdrawn long before this, just as Mr. Gryce had desired,
and I now expected to be allowed to join them, but Mr. Gryce detained me
till the grave was refilled and made decent again, when he turned and to
my intense astonishment--for I had thought the matter was all over and
the exoneration of this household complete--said softly and with telling
emphasis in my ear:
"Our work is not done yet. They who make graves so readily in cellars
must have been more or less accustomed to the work. We have still some
digging to do."
XXXI
STRATEGY
I was overwhelmed.
"What," said I, "you still doubt?"
"I always doubt," he gravely replied. "This cellar bottom offers a wide
field for speculation. Too wide, perhaps, but, then, I have a plan."
Here he leaned over and whispered a few concise sentences into my ear in
a tone so low I should feel that I was betraying his confidence in
repeating them. But their import will soon become apparent from what
presently occurred.
"Light Miss Butterworth to the stairway," Mr. Gryce now commanded one of
the men, and thus accompanied I found my way back to the kitchen, where
Hannah was bemoaning uncomforted the shame which had come upon the
house.
I did not stop to soothe her. That was not my cue, nor would it have
answered my purpose. On the contrary, I broke into angry ejaculations as
I passed her:
"What a shame! Those wretches cannot be got away from the cellar. What
do you suppose they expect to find there? I left them poking hither and
thither in a way that will be very irritating to Miss Knollys when she
finds it out. I wonder William stands it."
What she said in reply I do not know. I was half way down the hall
before my own words were finished.
My next move was to go to my room and take from my trunk a tiny hammer
and some very small, sharp-pointed tacks. Curious articles, you will
think, for a woman to carry on her travels, but I am a woman of
experience, and have known only too often what it was to want these
petty conveniences and not be able to get them. They were to serve me an
odd turn now. Taking a half-dozen tacks in one hand and concealing the
hammer in my bag, I started boldly for William's room. I knew that the
girls were not there, for I had heard them talking together in the
sitting-room as I came up. Besides, if they were, I had a ready answer
for any demand they might make.
Searching out his boots, I turned them over, and into the sole of each I
drove one of my small tacks. Then I put them back in the same place and
position 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 was
now 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. They
had not heard me go up-stairs. I immediately allowed my anxiety and
profound interest in this matter to have full play.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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