XVIII. THE CLOSED DOOR
The road was once the highway, but the tide having played so many trickswith its numberless bridges a new one had been built farther up thecliff, carrying with it the life and business of the small town. Manyold landmarks still remained--shops, warehouses and even a few scattereddwellings. But most of these were deserted, and those that were still inuse showed such neglect that it was very evident the whole regionwould soon be given up to the encroaching sea and such interests as areinseparable from it.
The hour was that mysterious one of late twilight, when outlines losetheir distinctness and sea and shore melt into one mass of uniform gray.There was no wind and the waves came in with a soft plash, but so nearto the level of the road that it was evident, even to these strangers,that the tide was at its height and would presently begin to ebb.
Soon they had passed the last forsaken dwelling, and the town proper laybehind them. Sand and a few rocks were all that lay between them now andthe open stretch of the ocean, which, at this point, approached the landin a small bay, well-guarded on either side by embracing rocky heads.This was what made the harbor at C--.
It was very still. They passed one team and only one. Sweetwater lookedvery sharply at this team and at its driver, but saw nothing to arousesuspicion. They were now a half-mile from C--, and, seemingly, in aperfectly desolate region.
"A manufactory here!" exclaimed Mr. Grey. It was the first word he haduttered since starting.
"Not far from here," was Sweetwater's equally laconic reply; and, theroad taking a turn almost at the moment of his speaking, he leanedforward and pointed out a building standing on the right-hand sideof the road, with its feet in the water. "That's it." said he. "Theydescribed it well enough for me to know it when I see it. Looks likea robber's hole at this time of night," he laughed; "but what can youexpect from a manufactory of patent medicine?"
Mr. Grey was silent. He was looking very earnestly at the building.
"It is larger than I expected," he remarked at last.
Sweetwater himself was surprised, but as they advanced and their pointof view changed they found it to be really an insignificant structure,and Mr. Wellgood's portion of it more insignificant still.
In reality it was a collection of three stores under one roof: two ofthem were shut up and evidently unoccupied, the third showed a lightedwindow. This was the manufactory. It occupied the middle place andpresented a tolerably decent appearance. It showed, besides the lightedlamp I have mentioned, such signs of life as a few packing-boxes tumbledout on the small platform in front, and a whinnying horse attached to anempty buggy, tied to a post on the opposite side of the road.
"I'm glad to see the lamp," muttered Sweetwater. "Now, what shall we do?Is it light enough for you to see his face, if I can manage to bring himto the door?"
Mr. Grey seemed startled.
"It's darker than I thought," said he. "But call the man and if I cannot see him plainly, I'll shout to the horse to stand, which you willtake as a signal to bring this Wellgood nearer. But do not be surprisedif I ride off before he reaches the buggy. I'll come back again and takeyou up farther down the road."
"All right, sir," answered Sweetwater, with a side glance at thespeaker's inscrutable features. "It's a go!" And leaping to the groundhe advanced to the manufactory door and knocked loudly.
No one appeared.
He tried the latch; it lifted, but the door did not open; it wasfastened from within.
"Strange!" he muttered, casting a glance at the waiting horse and buggy,then at the lighted window, which was on the second floor directly overhis head. "Guess I'll sing out."
Here he shouted the man's name. "Wellgood! I say, Wellgood!"
No response to this either.
"Looks bad!" he acknowledged to himself; and, taking a step back, helooked up at the window.
It was closed, but there was neither shade nor curtain to obstruct theview.
"Do you see anything?" he inquired of Mr. Grey, who sat with his eye atthe small window in the buggy top.
"Nothing."
"No movement in the room above? No shadow at the window?"
"Nothing."
"Well, it's confounded strange!" And he went back, still callingWellgood.
The tied-up horse whinnied, and the waves gave a soft splash and thatwas all,--if I except Sweetwater's muttered oath.
Coming back, he looked again at the window, then, with a gesture towardMr. Grey, turned the corner of the building and began to edge himselfalong its side in an endeavor to reach the rear and see what it offered.But he came to a sudden standstill. He found himself on the edge of thebank before he had taken twenty steps. Yet the building projectedon, and he saw why it had looked so large from a certain point of theapproach. Its rear was built out on piles, making its depth even greaterthan the united width of the three stores. At low tide this might beaccessible from below, but just now the water was almost on a level withthe top of the piles, making all approach impossible save by boat.
Disgusted with his failure, Sweetwater returned to the front, and,finding the situation unchanged, took a new resolve. After measuringwith his eye the height of the first story, he coolly walked over tothe strange horse, and, slipping his bridle, brought it back and cast itover a projection of the door; by its aid he succeeded in climbing up tothe window, which was the sole eye to the interior.
Mr. Grey sat far back in his buggy, watching every movement.
There were no shades at the window, as I have before said, and, onceSweetwater's eye had reached the level of the sill, he could see theinterior without the least difficulty. There was nobody there. The lampburned on a great table littered with papers, but the rude cane-chairbefore it was empty, and so was the room. He could see into every cornerof it and there was not even a hiding-place where anybody could remainconcealed. Sweetwater was still looking, when the lamp, which had beenburning with considerable smoke, flared up and went out. Sweetwateruttered an ejaculation, and, finding himself face to face with utterdarkness, slid from his perch to the ground.
Approaching Mr. Grey for the second time, he said:
"I can not understand it. The fellow is either lying low, or he's goneout, leaving his lamp to go out, too. But whose is the horse--justexcuse me while I tie him up again. It looks like the one he was drivingto-day. It is the one. Well, he won't leave him here all night. Shallwe lie low and wait for him to come and unhitch this animal? Or do youprefer to return to the hotel?"
Mr. Grey was slow in answering. Finally he said:
"The man may suspect our intention. You can never tell anything aboutsuch fellows as he. He may have caught some unexpected glimpse of meor simply heard that I was in town. If he's the man I think him, hehas reasons for avoiding me which I can very well understand. Let us goback,--not to the hotel, I must see this adventure through tonight,--butfar enough for him to think we have given up all idea of routing him outto-night. Perhaps that is all he is waiting for. You can steal back--"
"Excuse me," said Sweetwater, "but I know a better dodge than that.We'll circumvent him. We passed a boat-house on our way down here. I'lljust drive you up, procure a boat, and bring you back here by water.I don't believe that he will expect that, and if he is in the house weshall see him or his light."
"Meanwhile he can escape by the road."
"Escape? Do you think he is planning to escape?"
The detective spoke with becoming surprise and Mr. Grey answered withoutapparent suspicion.
"It is possible if he suspects my presence in the neighborhood."
"Do you want to stop him?"
"I want to see him."
"Oh, I remember. Well, sir, we will drive on,--that is, after a moment."
"What are you going to do?"
"Oh, nothing. You said you wanted to see the man before he escaped."
"Yes, but--"
"And that he might escape by the road."
"Yes--"
"Well, I was just making that a little b
it impracticable. A small pebblein the keyhole and--why, see now, his horse is walking off! Gee! I musthave fastened him badly. I shouldn't wonder if he trotted all the way totown. But it can't be helped. I can not be supposed to race after him.Are you ready now, sir? I'll give another shout, then I'll get in." Andonce more the lonely region about echoed with the cry: "Wellgood! I say,Wellgood!"
There was no answer, and the young detective, masking for the nonce asMr. Grey's confidential servant, jumped into the buggy, and turned thehorse's head toward C--.
The Woman in the Alcove Page 18