Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia ButterworthGreen, Anna Katharine
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Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories; New York (State) -- Fiction
"Oh, ho!" he laughed. "So that is your game, is it! Well, I never!
Saracen, Miss Butterworth wants to reform me; wants to make one of her
sleek city chaps out of William Knollys. She'll have hard work of it,
won't she? But then we're beginning to like her well enough to let her
try. Miss Butterworth, I'll go with you to Deacon Spear. I haven't had
so much chance for fun in a twelve-month."
I had not expected such success, and was duly thankful. But I made no
reference to it aloud. On the contrary, I took his complaisance as a
matter of course, and, hiding all token of triumph, suggested quietly
that we should make as little ado as possible over our errand, seeing
that Mr. Gryce was something of a meddler and _might_ take it into his
head to interfere. Which suggestion had all the effect I anticipated,
for at the double prospect of amusing himself at the Deacon's expense,
and of outwitting the man whose business it was to outwit us, he became
not only willing but eager to undertake the adventure offered him. So
with the understanding that I was to be ready to drive into town as soon
as he could hitch up the horse, we parted on the most amicable terms, he
proceeding towards the stable and I towards the house, where I hoped to
learn something new about Lucetta.
But Loreen, from whom alone I could hope to glean any information, was
shut in her room, and did not come out, though I called her more than
once, which, if it left my curiosity unsatisfied, at least allowed me to
quit the house without awakening hers.
William was waiting for me at the gate when I descended. He was in the
best of humors, and helped me into the buggy he had resurrected from
some corner of the old stable, with a grimace of suppressed mirth which
argued well for the peace of our proposed drive. The horse's head was
turned away from the quarter we were bound for, but as we were
ostensibly on our way to the village, this showed but common prudence on
William's part, and, as such, met with my entire approbation.
Mr. Gryce and his men were hard at work when we passed them. Knowing the
detective so well, and rating at its full value his undoubted talent for
reading the motives of those about him, I made no attempt at cajolery in
the explanation I proffered of our sudden departure, but merely said, in
my old, peremptory way, that I found waiting at the gate so tedious that
I had accepted William's invitation to drive into town. Which, while it
astonished the old gentleman, did not really arouse his suspicions, as a
more conciliatory manner and speech might have done. This disposed of,
we drove rapidly away.
William's sense of humor once aroused was not easily allayed. He seemed
so pleased with his errand that he could talk of nothing else, and
turned the subject over and over in his clumsy way, till I began to
wonder if he had seen through the object of our proposed visit and was
making _me_ the butt of his none too brilliant wit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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