CHAPTER V
JUDGE TRENT'S STUDY
Dunham took care not to see Miss Lacey again until their train wasnearing its destination. Then as he approached the seat where she gazedout the car window he observed that her eyes bore traces of tears.
She gave a nervous start as she recognized him.
"Oh, there you are. I've been afraid you missed the train. I'm veryglad you've come, for I'm going straight to Judge Trent's office withyou, Mr. Dunham."
"Oh, are you?" responded the young man dubiously. He seemed to see hisemployer's warning glance. "I rather think Judge Trent will have gonehome. It's pretty late."
"Very well," returned Miss Lacey decisively, "then we go on to hishouse. This is no time to stand on ceremony. Every moment counts."
Whatever was in her mind her companion saw that she had worked herselfto a pitch of excitement which made a railroad train no fittingenvironment for its expression; and to avoid further conversation hemoved to the door and stood looking through the glass, meditating uponthe approaching interview.
The station reached, Miss Lacey waited while Dunham telephoned to theoffice. There was no reply.
"The judge has evidently gone home," he said, returning to anxious MissMartha.
"Then, as I told you," she answered, with firmness, "I am going to hishouse."
She had turned this possibility over in her mind several times. Thelong spring day was bright. Neighbors would observe her and commentupon her action, and she was not indifferent to this.
It did not occur to Dunham that she might consider the presentsituation an ordeal, but he was certain of Judge Trent's frame of mind,and he felt it incumbent upon him to do what he could.
"Shan't I put you on the car for home, Miss Lacey?" he askedpersuasively, "and bring Judge Trent to see you?"
"It would be very nice if you could," she returned briefly, "but youcouldn't."
"Oh, I assure you,"--began John smoothly.
Miss Lacey emitted a sort of impatient groan. "Don't talk," sheexclaimed brusquely. "You don't know anything about it. He'll go onshirking just the way he's begun if I give him the chance. Isn't thatthe car coming? Oh, no, it isn't!"
"Probably you'd rather see him alone," suggested John, seizing upon asudden hope. "Being so essentially a family matter and--eh--don't youthink?"
"No, I don't think!" returned Miss Lacey. "If I'd had my way it _would_have been a family matter. Calvin and I ought to have attended to itentirely alone; but he _would_ drag you into it--yes, I know it's veryuncomfortable for you, but you _are_ in, and I need you for a witnessand to back me up, and you must come, Mr. Dunham; there's the car now."
John yielded to the inevitable. He remembered grimly one item of hismemoranda. "Follow Miss Lacey's lead."
Whatever of humor was in the situation was in abeyance. He had anirritating consciousness that what should have been the problem ofthese people had been shifted upon himself in a manner most unfair ofFortune. The desolate face that he had left haunted his thoughts; andthe girl's pride and obstinacy in binding him to secrecy made thecoming interview awkward.
Judge Trent, all unsuspicious, was sitting in his study. He had slippedon the dressing-gown with the indistinguishable pattern, and the rustyslippers that his soul loved. His silk hat formed a shadow for hiseyes, and his big table was covered with a riot of books and papers.
At the moment chosen by his visitors for their entrance, thedown-trodden heels were also resting on the table as the judge leanedback luxuriously in his desk chair and read the Boston papers.
Miss Lacey declined to allow Hannah to announce their visit.
"He might get out some back way," she declared to Dunham in a nervousundertone. She had outraged the proprieties by coming, as she read inthe disapproving puckers around the old housekeeper's mouth. She wasnot going now to have the name without the game.
The library door opened.
Judge Trent looked up vaguely, then frowningly, then brought down hisfeet with a start.
"Good-evening," said Dunham; "we have come back."
Unexpected as was the sight of Miss Lacey in his sanctum, Judge Trent'sastonishment was merged in the apprehension of what might be beyond. Helooked over her shoulder with startled eyes as he arose.
Miss Martha understood. "No, indeed," she exclaimed, "she isn't here."
The host breathed a sigh of relief, and his sharp eyes began toquestion Dunham while he collected himself sufficiently to bringforward a chair for the lady.
"You honor me, Mar--Miss Lacey," he said.
"Thank you--Judge Trent," she returned, and giving his figure acomprehensive glance from top to toe, she touched her bonnetsignificantly as she sat down.
He did not observe the gesture. "Well," he said, resuming his seat andwaving Dunham to another, "so you have come to tell me of your success.Very kind of you."
The speaker's endeavor to be courteous was offset by an impatientdrumming of his fingers on the desk and the drawing together of hisbrows.
Martha ignored the signs. Let him drum. Let him scowl. "No," shereturned impressively, "we have come to tell you of our failure."
Her manner was trying. It irritated her host still further. "How so?"he demanded.
She measured him with a severe gaze. "Calvin, you are wearing yourhat," she announced frigidly.
"Eh? Oh! Pardon me." With hasty discomfiture the lawyer deposited hisboon companion on the table.
"Oh! not in all that dust!" implored Miss Lacey.
He blew the vicinity vaguely. "Hannah doesn't do her duty by you!" shecontinued.
"Thank heaven, no," responded the judge devoutly.
Dunham was choking as quietly as possible by the mantelpiece, where hehad remained standing despite his host's invitation.
"Say on, Mar--Miss Lacey," said the lawyer. "Do you mean you didn'tfind the girl? Make it short, please. Come to the point."
Miss Lacey's spirit arose. A human soul was involved, and no man, be helawyer or lover, should browbeat or persuade her.
"Judge Trent," she began emphatically, fixing him with eyes which hebut now perceived were swollen, "don't think to hurry me. I've comehere on serious business. Men call you an eminent lawyer, a brilliantman. Now we'll see if you are sufficiently able to save your onlysister's only child from an awful future."
Miss Lacey paused with working lips. Judge Trent perceived that she wasdeeply moved, and not endeavoring to make the most of an enjoyablesituation. He pushed up his spectacles and looked questioningly atDunham.
"You wouldn't come," pursued Miss Martha accusingly; "you wouldn't helpme."
"I sent Dunham with full power."
"What could he do?" retorted Miss Lacey, in grief. "A mere boy likehim, and no relation. Of course, after I had made a complete mess ofit, what was left for him to do when she turned us out, but to comeback with me?"
"You told me to follow Miss Lacey's lead," stated Dunham.
"Your place was there, Calvin. You might have saved the day even aftermy blunder."
"Perhaps you will tell me what blunder."
"Why, she was in the parlor curtains, Sylvia was, when we went in,"Martha's voice trembled, "and I don't suppose, to be fair, that shethought of eavesdropping."
"No," put in Dunham feelingly, "I've no doubt she was watching for you;and I can imagine how eager and--and different her face looked then."His reminiscent tone was earnest, and his employer regarded him withsudden sharpness.
"So she's pretty," he said dryly.
"Oh, indeed she is--or would be if she was painted up the way they do,"groaned Miss Martha. "She's too pale--but that might have been allanger."
"No," said Dunham quickly, "she's had typhoid fever."
Miss Lacey stared at him. "How do you know that?" she demanded.
"Why--why--of course," stammered John, "her short curly hair meantthat. Didn't you think of it at once?"
"That's an absurd conclusion," returned Miss Martha, while Judge Trentquietly regarded the young man's flus
hing countenance.
"But if it should be true, Calvin," continued the lady miserably,"she's not fit yet to go to work at anything! I haven't told you yet. Italked right out to Mr. Dunham in that parlor about our not wantingher, you and I; and how we wished she'd stayed West. Oh, I've gone overit dozens of times since, and it keeps growing worse. Every word I saidwas true, and it was perfectly compatible with our intention to helpher all the time; but she couldn't realize that, and I was just sort ofexplaining to Mr. Dunham your coolness in the matter by telling him howmiserable Sam made Laura when the girl jumped out of those curtainslike a--like a perfect fury, didn't she, Mr. Dunham?"
He nodded. "She seemed at a white heat with righteous indignation," heagreed.
Miss Martha took up the tale.
"Then she began to score us all, Calvin, and perhaps _you_ could havefixed it, but she simply froze me and my apologies; and then that childpositively told us to go. I tried to stand my ground, and Mr. Dunhamcame out with your good sensible offer to send her to the Young Women'sChristian Association, and I tried my best to persuade her to let metake her over there; but she laughed us to scorn, or smiled scorn,anyway; but I would not leave her until she told me what she was goingto do--and what do you think it is, that your niece, Judge Trent'sniece, proposes to do? She proposes to go on the stage," finished MissMartha, in a hollow voice,--"to go on the stage and marry an actor; anactor named Nat!"
"Fat and middle-aged and mediocre," added Dunham.
Miss Lacey turned on him quickly. "Sylvia didn't say a word about hisbeing fat and middle-aged!" she declared severely. "Are you presumingto make fun of this situation, Mr. Dunham?"
Judge Trent's keen gaze again noted the crimsoning ears of hisassistant.
"Why--why, of course I wouldn't do that, Miss Lacey," blurted out theyoung man. "Didn't you notice what she said about his being herfather's friend? What else could he be but middle-aged, and probablyfat?"
"Well, we don't need to call on our imagination for anything," saidMiss Martha coldly. "The facts are sufficient." She turned back toJudge Trent.
"So there's that young creature, Calvin, our own flesh and blood, alonein that rattle-te-banging city, without money for all we know, going topin her faith to an actor man, and each of us with our homes, closedagainst her, as she feels, and you know we _did_ feel so, too, Calvin;and when I put myself in her place and remember the things she heard mesay, I don't blame her for refusing our advice and help. She's youngand high-strung, and oh, I've made such a mess of it, and,--and,--_say_something, Calvin Trent!" Miss Lacey made the addition so explosivelythat the judge jumped. "Say you'll send some of your detectives to keepwatch of her--quick--to-morrow--before she has a chance to get awayfrom that hotel and get lost to us!"
Martha suddenly raised her clasped hands to her face, and burying hereyes in her handkerchief, wept miserably.
Judge Trent cleared his throat, and Dunham stirred and felt hisknowledge weigh upon him guiltily.
"Don't get nervous, Martha," returned the lawyer. "Did you think I kepta brace of detectives in the back yard? I'm sorry about this. I'm"--
Miss Lacey emerged from the handkerchief as suddenly as she had enteredit. "Oh, the mistake I made--the minute I saw you wouldn't do your partin this--the mistake I made not to ask Thinkright. I never thought ofhim; but it came to me on the cars that he would have been the rightone. I suppose you'd have consented easily enough that Sylvia should goto the farm; and now--Oh, Mr. Dunham, I can't forgive you for puttingthat typhoid fever idea into my head, but if she did have"--
"A farm?" interrupted Dunham quickly, with an interest not lost uponhis employer. "A farm would have been just the thing. Where is it,Judge Trent?"
"It's a little place I have in Maine. A cousin of mine runs it for me.So you think, Martha, that I'm below criticism in this whole matter, doyou? That's a rather bright thought of yours about Thinkright."
"But it comes too late," returned Martha excitedly. "How do you knowthat Sylvia won't take the night train for the West right off to jointhat horrible Nat?"
"Then you think she has money?"
"I don't know. I only know she spurned the idea of any help from us."
"Wouldn't take a cent, eh?" rejoined Judge Trent. He turned towardDunham. "I'll take that twenty-five then, Boy. It's pay-day forHannah."
Dunham started from his leaning posture by the mantelpiece, and thelawyer watched his embarrassed countenance as he began a search throughhis pockets. He succeeded in extracting bills from two.
"I've only eight dollars here, Judge," he said at last, avoiding theother man's eyes.
"H'm. You and Miss Lacey must have painted the town," remarked JudgeTrent, accepting the money. "Had a good appetite for dinner in spite ofyour troubles, hadn't you, Martha?"
"We didn't have luncheon together," returned Miss Martha, indignant ather friend's flippancy. "Do you suppose I cared whether I ever ateagain or not?"
"The boy deserted you, did he? Didn't I tell you to take care of MissLacey?"
Dunham caught Judge Trent's eye for a second, and looked away. "_I_think I took care of her," he replied coldly.
"Of course you did," said Miss Martha impatiently. "He had business toattend to. Now perhaps you'll choose some other time for joking, CalvinTrent, and tell me what you propose to do while valuable minutes areflying."
The judge drummed thoughtfully now on his desk. "That was a bright ideaof yours concerning Thinkright," he remarked musingly.
"Then make it worth something!" responded Miss Lacey. His deliberatemanner was driving her to frenzy. "Send a telegram if you can't send adetective. Say, 'News to your advantage coming,' or something likethat. Anything to keep her there while we send for Thinkright."
"Send for him, eh?" mused the judge aloud.
"Why, of course!" responded Martha, in the very throes of impatience."She wouldn't come with me, would she? She certainly wouldn't come with_you_!" The speaker brought out the last pronoun with a vicioussatisfaction.
"Too bad of you to blacken me to her like that," remarked the judge. "Isent, as I supposed, an entirely capable representative. John admittedthat he could carry off the affair with flying colors. How about thathand you had tied behind you, Boy?"
Dunham changed his position. "It was a very strange and hard situation,Judge Trent," he replied stiffly. "Most unexpected and uncomfortableall around."
"Then I may assume that you untied the hand?"
The young man did not reply. His indignation at his employer'simperturbability was becoming as pronounced as Miss Lacey's.
"I ought to have gone," continued Judge Trent. "Really I didn't supposethat a fellow recommended as an expert by such high authority ashimself could be so invertebrate. You actually came away just becausethe girl told you to. Why, a novice could have done that."
Dunham regarded the little man with a stern displeasure whichentertained the judge highly. Then John turned toward Miss Lacey: "Justwhere is this farm you speak of?"
"It's in Casco Bay. You take the train from Portland and then drive."
"And this man with the strange name?" pursued Dunham.
"Oh, it isn't his name, but nobody thinks of calling him anything else.He's Judge Trent's cousin, Jacob Johnson, and he lives on this farmwinter and summer. He's a good soul, and he was cousin to Sylvia'smother, too, of course, and he"--
"Casco Bay. I have friends who go there in the summer." Dunham's mannergrew purposeful.
Judge Trent rubbed his chin the wrong way. "I _could_ send a detective,Martha," he said thoughtfully. "I don't keep them in the back yard, butI usually have one around the office. I could shadow the girl."
Miss Lacey took hope. This met her longings. "If we only surely knewwhere she is!" she responded acutely.
"Yes, if we only did," the judge replied equably. "Where is she,Dunham?"
The young man flushed at the question.
"I can't tell you," he answered, after a moment's pause.
"Of course he can't," exclaimed M
artha. "How queer you act, Calvin._Do_ you intend to do anything, after all?" Tears sprang to her eyesand overflowed, but she paid no attention to them as she gazeddistractedly at the exasperating lawyer.
Judge Trent's manner changed. He even smiled into the tearfulcountenance, and as she had suddenly risen he rose too.
"Yes, Martha," he answered, "I expect to see something done about itright away. The fat actor shan't get Laura's little girl this time."
Miss Lacey regarded the shrewd face in the intervals of wiping hereyes. "You'll telegraph to Sylvia, and send another message toThinkright to come right here. Of course we can't be sure that Sylviawill get it, though--and there's all Thinkright's traveling expenses."The speaker's wet eyes looked appealing.
"Dunham's going to tell us where Sylvia is," returned the judgequietly. He paused, and Martha looked bewildered by this persistence.She turned toward John questioningly.
"I can't," replied Dunham again.
Judge Trent shrugged his shabby shoulders. "Oh, well, I suppose you cantelegraph for us, then."
John swallowed, and meeting the lawyer's eyes, realized that he mightas well save circumlocution.
"Well--yes."
"Of all things!" exclaimed Martha, with a start. "What do you mean?"
The judge hooked his thumbs in his armholes, regarding Dunhamquizzically. "How about Jacob Johnson, Esquire, alias Thinkright. Doyou suppose if I sent to him to shake the hayseed out of his hair andcome on here you might unburden yourself to him somewhat?"
"Look here, Judge Trent," said Dunham, with exasperation, "perhaps youthink I've had a pleasant day."
The lawyer approached the speaker and patted his big arm. "Could you,John, could you, do you think?"
"Yes, confound you!"
"Then we're fixed, Martha," said Judge Trent calmly. "You're all right,Dunham. You didn't overrate yourself at all."
"But I don't understand," exclaimed Martha tremulously, looking fromone to the other.
Judge Trent opened the door for her ceremoniously.
"The intricate workings of the law, Martha, are difficult ofexplanation; but, after all, what do you care if the net result provesto be the arrival of your niece at the Mill Farm in a few days."
"Of your niece, Calvin," returned Miss Lacey, moving to the door,followed by Dunham, whose brow was lowering. "Don't think of comingwith me, Mr. Dunham," she added, turning to him. "It is still fullylight--and," ingratiatingly, "did you say you were going to telegraphSylvia?"
"Yes."
"What shall he say, Calvin?"
"I should trust his judgment before my own," returned the lawyer."Here's your eight dollars, Boy, and you're a trump."
John took the money without smiling; but he was glad to know about thefarm.
Miss Martha boarded her car with a heart that was questioning butbeginning to hope, and her mind was busy piecing together the evidence.
Mr. Dunham had left her for hours. He had been unable to return JudgeTrent's money. He knew where Sylvia was.
Her misery gradually abated, and before she reached her gate she beganto wonder if her bonnet had been on straight during the recentinterview.
The Opened Shutters: A Novel Page 6