Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth
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XXI
MOTHER JANE
"Well, well, what did Trohm want here this morning?" cried a harsh voicefrom amid the tangled walks behind me. "Seems to me he finds this placepretty interesting all of a sudden."
I turned upon the intruder with a look that should have daunted him.I had recognized William's courteous tones and was in no mood toendure a questioning so unbecoming in one of his age to one of mine.But as I met his eye, which had something in it besides anger andsuspicion--something that was quizzical if not impertinent--I changed myintention and bestowed upon him a conciliatory smile, which I hopeescaped the eye of the good angel who records against man all his smallhypocrisies and petty deceits.
"Mr. Trohm rides for his health," said I. "Seeing me looking up the roadat Mother Jane, he stopped to tell me some of the idiosyncrasies of thatold woman. A very harmless courtesy, Mr. Knollys."
"Very," he echoed, not without a touch of sarcasm. "I only hope that isall," he muttered, with a sidelong look back at the house. "Lucettahasn't a particle of belief in that man's friendship, or, rather, shebelieves he never goes anywhere without a particular intention, andI do believe she's right, or why should he come spying around herejust at a time when"--he caught himself up with almost a look ofterror--"when--when you are here?" he completed lamely.
"I do not think," I retorted, more angrily than the occasion perhapswarranted, "that the word spying applies to Mr. Trohm. But if it does,what has he to gain from a pause at the gate and a word to such a newacquaintance as I am?"
"I don't know," William persisted suspiciously. "Trohm's a sharp fellow.If there was anything to see, he would see it without half looking. Butthere isn't. You don't know of anything wrong here, do you, which such aman as that, hand in glove with the police as we know him to be, mightconsider himself interested in?"
Astonished both at this blundering committal of himself and at thecertain sort of anxious confidence he showed in me, I hesitated for amoment, but only for a moment, since, if half my suspicions were true,this man must not know that my perspicacity was more to be feared thaneven Mr. Trohm's was.
"If Mr. Trohm shows an increased interest in this household during thelast two days," said I, with a heroic defiance of ridicule which I hopeMr. Gryce has duly appreciated, "I beg leave to call your attention tothe fact that on yesterday morning he came to deliver a letter addressedto me which had inadvertently been left at his house, and that thismorning he called to inquire how I had spent the night, which, inconsideration of the ghosts which are said to haunt this house and thestrange and uncanny apparitions which only three nights ago made theentrance to this lane hideous to one pair of eyes at least, should notcause a gentleman's son like yourself any astonishment. It does not seemodd to me, I assure you."
He laughed. I meant he should, and, losing almost instantly his air ofdoubt and suspicion, turned toward the gate from which I had just movedaway, muttering:
"Well, it's a small matter to me anyway. It's only the girls that areafraid of Mr. Trohm. I am not afraid of anything but losing Saracen, whohas pined like the deuce at his long confinement in the court. Hear himnow; just hear him."
And I could hear the low and unhappy moaning of the hound distinctly. Itwas not a pleasant sound, and I was almost tempted to bid Williamunloose the dog, but thought better of it.
"By the way," said he, "speaking of Mother Jane, I have a message to herfrom the girls. You will excuse me if I speak to the poor woman."
Alarmed by his politeness more than I ever have been by his roughnessand inconsiderate sarcasms, I surveyed him inquiringly as he left thegate, and did not know whether to stand my ground or retreat to thehouse. I decided to stand my ground; a message to this woman seeming tome a matter of some interest.
I was glad I did, for after some five minutes' absence, during which hehad followed her into the house, I saw him come back again in a state ofsullen displeasure, which, however, partially disappeared when he saw mestill standing by the gate.
"Ah, Miss Butterworth, you can do me a favor. The old creature is in oneof her stubborn fits to-day, and won't give me a hearing. She may not beso deaf to you; she isn't apt to be to women. Will you cross the roadand speak to her? I will go with you. You needn't be afraid."
The way he said this, the confidence he expected to inspire, had almosta ghastly effect upon me. Did he know or suspect that the only thing Ifeared in this lane was he? Evidently not, for he met my eye quiteconfidently.
It would not do to shake his faith at such a moment as this, so callingupon Providence to see me safely through this adventure, I stepped intothe highway and went with him into Mother Jane's cottage.
Had I been favored with any other companion than himself, I should havebeen glad of this opportunity. As it was, I found myself ignoring anypossible danger I might be running, in my interest in the remarkableinterior to which I was thus introduced.
Having been told that Mother Jane was poor, I had expected to confrontsqualor and possibly filth, but I never have entered a cleaner place orone in which order made the poorest belongings look more decent. Thefour walls were unfinished, and so were the rafters which formed theceiling, but the floor, neatly laid in brick, was spotless, and thefireplace, also of brick, was as deftly swept as one could expect fromthe little scrub I saw hanging by its side. Crouched within thisfireplace sat the old woman we had come to interview. Her back was tous, and she looked helplessly and hopelessly deaf.
"Ask her," said William, pointing towards her with a rude gesture, "ifshe will come to the house at sunset. My sisters have some work for herto do. They will pay her well."
Advancing at his bidding, I passed a rocking-chair, in the cushion ofwhich a dozen patches met my eye. This drew my eyes toward a bed, overwhich a counterpane was drawn, made up of a thousand or more pieces ofcolored calico, and noticing their varied shapes and the intricacy withwhich they were put together, I wondered whether she ever counted them.The next moment I was at her back.
"Seventy," burst from her lips as I leaned over her shoulder and showedher the coin which I had taken pains to have in my hand.
"Yours," I announced, pointing in the direction of the house, "if youwill do some work for Miss Knollys to-night."
Slowly she shook her head before burying it deeper in the shawl she worewrapped about her shoulders. Listening a minute, I thought I heard hermutter: "Twenty-eight, ten, but no more. I can count no more. Go away!"
But I'm nothing if not persistent. Feeling for her hands, which werehidden away somewhere under her shawl, I touched them with the coin andcried again:
"This and more for a small piece of work to-night. Come, you are strong;earn it."
"What kind of work is it?" I asked innocently, or it must have appearedinnocently, of Mr. Knollys, who was standing at my back.
He frowned, all the black devils in his heart coming into his look atonce.
"How do I know! Ask Loreen; she's the one who sent me. I don't takeaccount of what goes on in the kitchen."
I begged his pardon, somewhat sarcastically I own, and made anotherattempt to attract the attention of the old crone, who had remainedperfectly callous to my allurements.
"I thought you liked money," I said. "For Lizzie, you know, for Lizzie."
But she only muttered in lower and lower gutturals, "I can count nomore"; and, disgusted at my failure, being one who accounts failure aslittle short of disgrace, I drew back and made my way toward the door,saying: "She's in a different mood from what she was yesterday when shesnatched a quarter from me at the first intimation it was hers. I don'tthink you can get her to do any work to-night. Innocents take thesefreaks. Isn't there some one else you can call in?"
The scowl that disfigured his none too handsome features was a fittingprelude to his words.
"You talk," said he, "as if we had the whole village at our command. Howdid you succeed with the locksmith yesterday? Came, didn't he? Well,that's what we have to expect whenever we want any help."
Whirling on
his heel, he led the way out of the hut, whither I wouldhave immediately followed him if I had not stopped to take another lookat the room, which struck me, even upon a second scrutiny, as one of thebest ordered and best kept I had ever entered. Even the strings andstrings of dried fruits and vegetables, which hung in festoons fromevery beam of the roof, were free from dust and cobwebs, and though thedishes were few and the pans scarce, they were bright and speckless,giving to the shelf along which they were ranged a semblance ofornament.
"Wise enough to keep her house in order," thought I, and actually foundit hard to leave, so attractive to my eyes are absolute neatness andorder.
William was pushing at his own gate when I joined him. He looked as ifhe wished I had spent the morning with Mother Jane, and was barely civilin our walk up to the house. I was not, therefore, surprised when heburst into a volley of oaths at the doorway and turned upon me almost asif he would forbid me the house, for tap, tap, tap, from some distantquarter came a distinct sound like that of nails being driven into aplank.