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The Professor's Mystery

Page 13

by Wells Hastings and Brian Hooker


  CHAPTER XIII

  THE PRESENCE IN THE ROOM

  "I wonder how we shall come out of it all," said Lady.

  She was sitting at the big dining-table before a treasury of bowls andvases, with a many-colored heap of cut flowers reflected from thepolished wood and the drops and splashes of spilled water. In the openwindow, Sheila's canary was whistling merrily down a deep shaft ofsunlight; and from the garden outside came the purr of a lawn-mower andthe cool freshness of new-cut grass. Across the still dimness of thehouse behind us, the further windows gave upon squares of blindinggreen. Mr. Tabor and the doctor had gone to the city upon some businessof our common defense. The house hung sleepily at the heart of the hotforenoon, very quiet and open; overhead, Sheila was shuffling about,with a crooning of soft Irish minors.

  "It seems to be just a case of waiting," said I, "but the newspaperexcitement is blowing over already, and we can trust Maclean to keep usclear. As for the detectives, if they arrest Carucci again so much thebetter, provided we don't appear in it. He'd be no more likely to talkthen, than before."

  "I wonder if we can trust Mr. Maclean."

  "I'm rather sure of Mac," I said.

  "It isn't that exactly; I'm not doubting your friend; but even so, heknows--knows absolutely that we were involved in that New Yorkdisturbance the other night. Think of all we did to keep you from evensuspecting something far less exciting. And he's a reporter after all,and in no way one of us. Of course he's honorable, but--he's working upthe Carucci side of it. I'm afraid of what he may bring out, perfectlyremoved from us in itself, but that might suggest-- Oh, you see what Imean."

  "I wish I could hear from him," I said. "I want to know what'shappening. But honestly, I think I took the safe way with him, whateverhappens. It's much better to have him know what he mustn't say than tohave him guessing all sorts of things with no reason for not airingthem."

  "Yes; but I wish nobody knew anything. We took a terrible risk."

  "I did, you mean. If I spoke beyond my authority, the fault is certainlymine. Still, I'm not sure that I'm sorry, and I won't plead that I meantwell."

  She searched carefully through the heap of flowers. "No, you're one ofus now--in a way. What you did was ours, not your own-- Oh, I'm sureit's all right anyway, and you acted wisely. Only I'm nervous about it,I suppose." She leaned back wearily. "I do get so tired of all thisunnaturalness. Why can't God let us live like other people?"

  It was the first time I had ever heard her complain; the first openconfession of the weary weight that had lain so long upon her eyes; andit shook me so that for a little I did not trust myself to speak, forfear I should not speak quietly enough. She sat silent, the light goneout of her as I had seen it go on that first day, her hand twistinglistlessly at her chain.

  "I only wish I could be more use," I said at last.

  She turned half toward me: "Sometimes I wish you could know," she saidand her eyes of a sudden glimmered and grew wet.

  That was more than I could bear. "Lady," I cried, "why can't I know?What difference does it make? Oh, I'm not questioning you; I don't wantto satisfy my mere mind with your mystery. I don't care what theexplanation is; I'm not after answers to questions. But it can't matterto us, whatever it is. Nothing can. When I thought you were married,that didn't change anything really. It meant that I must go away, that Imust never come back to you perhaps--but even that was a little thing.And nothing else in the world could be as bad as that even."

  "Don't. Please don't make it any worse--oh, stop telling me--_listen_!"She caught herself suddenly, holding up her hand. The canary poured outa long trill that sounded like tiny laughter.

  "Sheila," I said. "She's been walking about up there all the morning.You've got so that this nightmare doesn't give you an hour's peace. Idon't care what it is. You know that. You know that I couldn't betroubled by anything behind you or about you. I never shall want toknow. But I want the whole right to stand in front of you and fight it,to take you away from this place and make you forget and be alive. Andyou know that no reason--"

  I do not know what stopped me. The canary was silent, and the clockticked twice across the hush. Then from the floor above a horriblescream cut through me like a frozen knife; then another, mixed with aheavy clatter of feet.

  We both sprang for the stairs, Lady a little before me. As I tried topass her at the foot, she caught me by the arm and clung desperately tome, her breath coming hard and fast.

  "No, you mustn't. Don't come, do you hear? Wait until I call you." Thedry tension in her voice was not a thing to disregard blindly. I waitedwith my foot on the lowest step, my heart staggering in my ears, whileshe sped above out of sight. The screams had broken into a choking wailof utter terror. A door slammed. Sheila's strong voice rang out angrily,then sank under a broken clamor of stumbling steps. A man leaped roughlydown the first few stairs, stopped and turned as I bent forward justenough to get a half glimpse of coarse clothes and clumsy feet, andsprang back again, trampling across the upper hall. I hesitated aninstant, then followed him three steps at a stride. Whatever happened, Iwould not leave the three women alone with him.

  In the hall I paused, for it was empty. From the front room which I tookto be Mrs. Tabor's came voices, Lady's full and sweet, her mother'sfrightened and childish, and the resonant whisper of Mrs. Carucci.

  "He was here, I tell you, Lady." Mrs. Tabor's treble rose above themurmur, and as suddenly ceased. I looked about me, uncertain. I had onlybeen above stairs once before, and then at night. My room then had beenat the rear of the house, with the whole length of hall between it andMrs. Tabor's; and the stair-head where I now stood was an even midwaybetween the two. I felt vaguely ill at ease. I knew that I should lookfor the intruder, and look for him upon the instant; but something heldme back--perhaps a feeling that I had little right to blunder about uponthis floor, to stumble perhaps into Lady's own room, an intruder uponher intimate privacy. This, however, was no time for doubtful sentiment.Minutes were passing, and the man must be found. I was sure that he wasstill in the house. Very carefully I tiptoed down the hall toward theroom that I had occupied. Fate might grant that he was hidden there, andso I should have to search only where I had already seen. But before Ireached my door, I paused before another. It was slightly ajar; and halfinstinctively I pushed it open.

  In the doorway I stood looking about me. This was Lady's room, afterall. A deep bed stood in the corner against the outer wall to my left;and close by, a little table with a book face-down upon it. A dress ofsome filmy blue stuff lay across the foot of the bed, and from beneathpeeped a pair of little slippers. My face burned at my intrusion, but Iheld my ground. The sunlight fell heavily through the two closedwindows, across the wide rug, and almost to my feet. In the outerright-hand corner was a small desk. A low table, piled with daintyfeminine miscellany, stood in the center of the room. A riding-crop laycarelessly across it; and I remembered absently that the Tabors had nohorses. I stepped within, and cautiously closed the door behind me. ThenI knew. There was some one in the room. It was unmistakable, thisfeeling of a presence. I listened closely, but there was not a sound.The skin crawled at my temples, and I could feel the stir of hair uponmy scalp, the strange primal bristling that has stirred man conscious ofthe unseen, since the beginning of time. For a heartbeat, I stood therewith much of the clutching terror of a child, a child willing enough toface a fight, but hesitating before the sudden mystery of a place thathe must pass. Then I got hold of myself, and crossed over to the bed. Iknew that he was not under it; but I looked to see. Behind me somethingtinkled sweetly, and I sprang to my feet with every muscle tense. Acrossthe room and above the little desk, hung a circle of bronze with tinybronze pendants shaped like birds and fish and leaves swinging from iton silken threads--such a thing as the Japanese hang above the bed of achild to ward off evil and to chime with every breath of air. I glanceduneasily at closed door and windows as I started across the room. Uponthe big central table before me lay a thin film of dust, invisible savef
or the contrast of a streak across its edge where something had brushedalong. Tiptoeing around it, I glanced down at the little desk and thehalf-written sheet upon it. "Lady, dearest," it began; and I gripped myhands at my sides. This was not Lady's room, but-- One of the long outercurtains of the window shivered--shivered humanly with a tremblingbehind it; and I reached out my hand to grip through the fold the solidshoulder of a man.

  In a sudden warm rush of relief, I struck at him savagely through thecurtain, shouting as I struck. Then I gripped the curtain about,throwing all my weight against him and crushing him back against theside of the embrasure. He grunted, and an arm tore itself free from thefolds above my bent head. Then there was a splash of light and a curioussharp smell that seemed to come from inside my own brain. And thennothing.

  I knew that I had not lain there long, when I opened my eyes. Lady waskneeling on the floor beside me, very white and piteously lovely. As mymind grew clearer, the color seemed to come back into her face.

  "Mr. Crosby," she said, "I asked you not to come up-stairs at all. Iwant to be able to trust you. What has happened?"

  "Happened?" I repeated dizzily. "Why, I had to come up. I chased the manup here, and then I saw this door open and came in, and felt as if therewas some one in here--and there was some one, there behind that curtain.I tackled him, and he hit me." I raised my head sharply: "Listen--thefellow is here yet."

  Lady pointed to the window behind me. "I think not," she said.

  "But I tell you he's still in the room."

  She smiled a little. "You are dizzy yet. Come here and look, and youwill see what I mean." The window was flung wide, and beneath at thefoot of the wall a syringa bush lay broken.

  "It looks as if you were right," I said, as she carefully closed thewindow. "I think I'll scout around a little outside; he may not havegone clear away." I noticed that she locked the door behind us.

  My ideas were rather indefinite as I examined the syringa bush after themost approved fashion, and discovered no more than that somebody hadbroken it by dropping from above, and had gone away. So I startedvaguely across the lawn toward the road. At the gate, I ran into the menwho followed us on our man-hunt.

  "He did not come this way," said the fat one, catching me by the arm.

  "How do you know?" I asked.

  The thin Italian smiled. "Then you are after Antonio Carucci?"

  I had been almost trapped. "Carucci?" said I. "No, I was looking forDoctor Reid. Some one wants him on the 'phone."

  "Why did you search the side of the house, then?"

  "Look here," said I, "I haven't the slightest idea what you people aregetting at, and I doubt if you have, either. But if you've seen DoctorReid--a stocky man with a jerky walk--I wish you'd say so. They won'thold that line for ever."

  "We might take a look about the place for him," the fat one smiled,"while you go back to the telephone."

  "I won't trouble you," I retorted. "If you have any errand inside, gostraight to the door. Mr. Tabor doesn't like his lawns trampled. Goodmorning."

  I stood at the gate while they moved unwillingly away, and then wentback to the house.

 

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