Books: The Mayor\'s Wife
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Anna Katherine Green >> The Mayor\'s Wife
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CHAPTER XIII
A DISCOVERY
Mrs. Packard came in very soon after this. She was accompanied by
two friends and I could hear them talking and laughing in her room
upstairs all the afternoon. It gave me leisure, but leisure was
not what I stood in need of, just now. I desired much more an
opportunity to pursue my inquiries, for I knew why she had brought
these friends home with her and lent herself to a merriment that
was not natural to her. She wished to forestall thought; to keep
down dread; to fill the house so full of cheer that no whisper
should reach her from that spirit-world she had come to fear. She
had seen--or believed that she had seen--a specter, and she had
certainly heard a laugh that had come from no explicable human
source.
The brightness of the sunshiny day aided her unconsciously in this
endeavor. But I foresaw the moment when this brightness would
disappear and her friends say good-by. Then the shadows must fall
again more heavily than ever, because of their transient lifting.
I almost wished she had indeed gone with her husband, and found
myself wondering why he had not asked her to do so when he found
what it was that depressed her. Perhaps he had, and it was she who
had held back. She may have made up her mind to conquer this
weakness, and to conquer it where it had originated and necessarily
held the strongest sway. At all events, he was gone and she was
here, and I had done nothing as yet to relieve that insidious dread
with which she must anticipate a night in this house without his
presence.
I wondered if it would be any relief to her to have Mr. Steele
remain upon the premises. I had heard him come in about three
o'clock and go into the study, and when the time came for her
friends to take their leave, and their voices in merry chatter came
up to my ear from the open boudoir door, I stole down to ask her if
I could suggest it to him. But I was too late. Just as I reached
the head of the stairs on the second floor he came out of the study
below and passed, hat in hand, toward the front door.
"What a handsome man!" came in an audible whisper from one of the
ladies, who now stood in the lower hall.
"Who is he?" asked the other.
I thought he held the door open one minute longer than was
necessary to catch her reply. It was a very cold and
unenthusiastic one.
"That is Mr. Packard's secretary," said she. "He will join the
mayor just as soon as he has finished certain preparations
intrusted to him."
"Oh!" was their quiet rejoinder, but a note of disappointment rang
in both voices as the door shut behind him.
"One does not often see a perfectly handsome man."
I stepped down to meet her when she in turn had shut the door upon
them.
But I stopped half-way. She was standing with her head turned away
from me and the knob still in her hand. I saw that she was
thinking or was the prey of some rapidly growing resolve.
Suddenly she seized the key and turned it.
"The house is closed for the night," she announced as she looked up
and met my astonished gaze. "No one goes out or comes in here
again till morning. I have seen all the visitors I have strength
for."
And though she did not know I saw it, she withdrew the key and
slipped it into her pocket. "This is Nixon's night out," she
murmured, as she led the way to the library. "Ellen will wait on
us and we'll have the baby down and play games and be as merry as
ever we can be,--to keep the ghosts away," she cried in fresh,
defiant tones that had just the faintest suggestion of hysteria in
them. "We shall succeed; I don't mean to think of it again. I'm
right in that, am I not? You look as if you thought so. Ah, Mr.
Packard was kind to secure me such a companion. I must prove my
gratitude to him by keeping you close to me. It was a mistake to
have those light-headed women visit me to-day. They tired more
than they comforted me."
I smiled, and put the question which concerned me most nearly.
"Does Nixon stay late when he goes out?"
She threw herself into a chair and took up her embroidery.
"He will to-night," was her answer. "A little grandniece of his is
coming on a late train from Pittsburgh. I don't think the train is
due till midnight, and after that he's got to take her to his
daughter's on Carey Street. It will be one o'clock at least before
he can be back."
I hid my satisfaction. Fate was truly auspicious. I would make
good use of his absence. There was nobody else in the house whose
surveillance I feared.
"Pray send for the baby now," I exclaimed. "I am eager to begin
our merry evening."
She smiled and rang the bell for Letty, the nurse.
Late that night I left my room and stole softly down-stairs. Mrs.
Packard had ordered a bed made up for herself in the nursery and
had retired early. So had Ellen and Letty. The house was
therefore clear below stairs, and after I had passed the second
story I felt myself removed from all human presence as though I
were all alone in the house.
This was a relief to me, yet the experience was not a happy one.
Ellen had asked permission to leave the light burning in the hall
during the mayor's absence, so the way was plain enough before me;
but no parlor floor looks inviting after twelve o'clock at night,
and this one held a secret as yet unsolved, which did not add to
its comfort or take the mysterious threat from the shadows lurking
in corners and under stairways which I had to pass. As I hurried
past the place where the clock had once stood, I thought of the
nurses' story and of the many frightened hearts which had throbbed
on the stairway I had just left and between the walls I was fast
approaching; but I did not turn back. That would have been an
acknowledgment of the truth of what I was at this very time
exerting my full faculties to disprove.
I knew little about the rear of the house and nothing about the
cellar. But when I had found my way into the kitchen and lit the
candle I had brought from my room, I had no difficulty in deciding
which of the many doors led below. There is something about a
cellar door which is unmistakable, but it took me a minute to
summon up courage to open it after I had laid my hand on its
old-fashioned latch. Why do we so hate darkness and the chill of
unknown regions, even when we know they are empty of all that can
hurt or really frighten us? I was as safe there as in my bed
up-stairs, yet I had to force myself to consider more than once the
importance of my errand and the positive result it might have in
allaying the disturbance in more than one mind, before I could lift
that latch and set my foot on the short flight which led into the
yawning blackness beneath me.
But once on my way I took courage. I pictured to myself the
collection of useful articles with which the spaces before me were
naturally filled, and thought how harmless were the sources of the
grotesque shadows which bowed to me from every side and even from
the cement floor toward the one spot where the stones of the
foundation showed themselves clear of all encumbering objects. As
I saw how numerous these articles were, and how small a portion of
the wall itself was really visible, I had my first practical fear,
and a practical fear soon puts imaginary ones to flight. What if
some huge box or case of bottles should have been piled up in front
of the marked brick I was seeking? I am strong, but I could not
move such an object alone, and this search was a solitary one; I
had been forbidden to seek help.
The anxiety this possibility involved nerved me to instant action.
I leaped forward to the one clear spot singled out for me by chance
and began a hurried scrutiny of the short strip of wall which was
all that was revealed to me on the right-hand side. Did it hold
the marked brick? My little candle shook with eagerness and it was
with difficulty I could see the face of the brick close enough to
determine. But fortune favored, and presently my eye fell on one
whose surface showed a ruder, scratched cross. It was in the
lowest row and well within reach of my hand. If I could move it
the box would soon be in my possession--and what might that box not
contain!
Looking about, I found the furnace and soon the gas-jet which made
attendance upon it possible. This lit, I could set my candle down,
and yet see plainly enough to work. I had shears in my pocket. I
have had a man's training in the handling of tools and felt quite
confident that I could pry this brick out if it was as easily
loosened as Bess had given me to understand. My first thrust at
the dusty cement inclosing it encouraged me greatly. It was very
friable and so shallow that my scissors'-point picked it at once.
In five minutes' time the brick was clear, so that I easily lifted
it out and set it on the floor. The small black hole which was
left was large enough to admit my hand. I wasted no time thrusting
it in, expecting to feel the box at once and draw it out. But it
was farther back than I expected, and while I was feeling about
something gave way and fell with a slight, rustling noise down out
of my reach. Was it the box? No, for in another instant I had
come in contact with its broken edges and had drawn it out; the
falling object must have been some extra mortar, and it had gone
where? I did not stop to consider then. The object in my hand was
too alluring; the size, the shape too suggestive of a package of
folded bonds for me to think of anything but the satisfaction of my
curiosity and the consequent clearing of a very serious mystery.
Just at this moment, one of intense excitement, I heard, or thought
I heard, a stealthy step behind me. Forcing myself to calmness,
however, I turned and, holding the candle high convinced myself
that I was alone in the cellar.
Carrying the box nearer the light, I pulled off its already
loosened string and lifted the cover. In doing this I suffered
from no qualms of conscience. My duty seemed very clear to me, and
the end, a totally impersonal one, more than justified the means.
A folded paper met my eyes--one--not of the kind I expected; then
some letters whose address I caught at a glance. "Elizabeth
Brainard"--a discovery which might have stayed my hand at another
time, but nothing could stay it now. I opened the paper and looked
at it. Alas! it was only her marriage certificate; I had taken
all this trouble and all this risk, only to rescue for her the
proof of her union with one John Silverthorn Brainard. The same
name was on her letters. Why had Bess so strongly insisted on a
secret search, and why had she concealed her license in so strange
a place?
Greatly sobered, I restored the paper to its place in the box,
slipped on the string and prepared to leave the cellar with it.
Then I remembered the brick on the floor and the open hole where it
had been, and afterward the something which had fallen over within
and what this space might mean in a seemingly solid wall.
More excited now even than I had been at any time before, I thrust
my hand in again and tried to sound the depth of this unexpected
far-reaching hole; but the size of my arm stood in the way of my
experiment, and, drawing out my hand, I looked about for a stick
and finding one, plunged that in. To my surprise and growing
satisfaction it went in its full length--about three feet. There
was a cavity on the other side of this wall of very sizable
dimensions. Had I struck the suspected passage? I had great hope
of it. Nothing else would account for so large a space on the
other side of a wall which gave every indication of being one with
the foundation. Catching up my stick I made a rude estimate of its
location, after which I replaced the brick, put out the gas, and
caught up Bess' box. Trembling, and more frightened now than at my
descent at my own footfall and tremulous pursuing shadow, I went
up-stairs.
As I passed the corridor leading to the converted vestibule which
had so excited my interest in the afternoon, I paused and made a
hurried calculation. If the stick had been three feet long, as I
judged, and my stride was thirty inches, then the place of that
hole in the wall below was directly in a line with where I now
stood,--in other words, under the vestibule floor, as I had
already, suspected.
How was I to verify this without disturbing Mrs. Packard? That
was a question to sleep on. But it took me a long time to get to
sleep.
CHAPTER XIV
I SEEK HELP
A bad night, a very bad night, but for all that I was down early
the next morning. Bess must have her box and I a breath of fresh
air before breakfast, to freshen me up a bit and clear my mind for
the decisive act, since my broken rest had failed to refresh me.
As I reached the parlor floor Nixon came out of the reception-room.
"Oh, Miss!" he exclaimed, "going out?" surprised, doubtless, to see
me in my hat and jacket.
"A few steps," I answered, and then stopped, not a little
disturbed; for in moving to open the door he had discovered that
the key was not in it and was showing his amazement somewhat
conspicuously.
"Mrs. Packard took the key up to her room," I explained, thinking
that some sort of explanation was in order. "She is nervous, you
know, and probably felt safer with it there."
The slow shake of his head had a tinge of self-reproach in it.
"I was sorry to go out," he muttered. "I was very sorry to go
out,"--but the look which he turned upon me the next minute was of
a very different sort. "I don't see how you can go out yet," said
he, "unless you go by the back way. That leads into Stanton
Street; but perhaps you had just as lief go into Stanton Street."
There was impertinence in his voice as well as aggressiveness in
his eye, but I smiled easily enough and was turning toward the back
with every expectation of going by way of Stanton Street, when
Letty came running down the stairs with the key in her hand. I
don't think he was pleased, but he opened the door civilly enough
and I gladly went out, taking with me, however, a remembrance of
the furtive look with which he had noted the small package in my
hand. I pass over the joy with which Bess received the box and its
desired contents. I had lost all interest in the matter, which was
so entirely personal to herself, and, declining the ten dollars
which I knew she could ill afford, made my visit so short that I
was able to take a brisk walk down the street and yet be back in
time for breakfast.
This, like that of the preceding day, I took alone. Mrs. Packard
was well but preferred to eat up-stairs. I did not fret at this;
I was really glad, for now I could think and plan my action quite
unembarrassed by her presence. The opening under the vestibule
floor was to be sounded, and sounded this very morning, but on what
pretext? I could not take Mrs. Packard into my counsel, for that
would be to lessen the force of the discovery with which I yet
hoped to dissipate at one blow the superstitious fears I saw it
was otherwise impossible to combat. I might interest Ellen, and I
was quite certain that I could interest the cook; but this meant
Nixon, also, who was always around and whose animosity to myself
was too mysteriously founded for me to trust him with any of my
secrets or to afford him any inkling of my real reason for being in
the house.
Yet help I must have and very efficient help, too. Should I
telegraph to Mayor Packard for some sort of order which would lead
to the tearing up of this end of the house? I could not do this
without fuller explanations than I could give in a telegram.
Besides, he was under sufficient pressure just now for me to spare
him the consideration of so disturbing a matter, especially as he
had left a substitute behind whose business it was, not only to
relieve Mrs. Packard in regard to the libelous paragraph, but in
all other directions to which his attention might be called. I
would see Mr. Steele; he would surely be able to think up some
scheme by which that aperture might be investigated without
creating too much disturbance in the house.
An opportunity for doing this was not long in presenting itself.
Mr. Steele came in about nine o'clock and passed at once into the
study. The next moment I was knocking at his door, my heart in any
mouth, but my determination strung up to the point of daring
anything and everything for the end I had in view.
Fortunately he came to the door; I could never have entered without
his encouragement. As I met his eye I was ashamed of the color my
cheeks undoubtedly showed, but felt reconciled the next minute, for
he was not quite disembarrassed himself, though he betrayed it by
a little extra paleness rather than by a flush, such as had so
disturbed myself. Both of us were quite natural in a moment,
however, and answering his courteous gesture I stepped in and at
once opened up my business.
"You must pardon me," said I, "for this infringement upon the usual
rules of this office. I have something very serious to say about
Mrs. Packard--oh, she's quite well; it has to do with a matter I
shall presently explain--and I wish to make a request."
"Thank you for the honor," he said, drawing up a chair for me.
But I did not sit, neither did I speak for a moment. I was
contemplating his features and thinking how faultless they were.
"I hardly know where to begin," I ventured at last. "I am burdened
with a secret, and it may all appear puerile to you. I don't know
whether to remind you first of Mayor Packard's intense desire to
see his wife's former cheerfulness restored--a task in which I have
been engaged to assist--or to plunge at once into my discoveries,
which are a little peculiar and possibly important, in spite of my
short acquaintance with the people under this roof and the nature
of my position here."
"You excite me," were his few quick but sharply accentuated words.
"What secret? What discoveries? I didn't know that the house held
any that were worth the attention of sensible persons like
ourselves."
I had not been looking at him directly, but I looked up at this and
was astonished to find that his interest in what I had said was
greater than appeared from his tone or even from his manner.
"You know the cause of Mrs. Packard's present uneasiness?" I asked.
"Mayor Packard told me--the paragraph which appeared in yesterday
morning's paper. I have tried to find out its author, but I have
failed so far."
"That is a trifle," I said. "The real cause--no, I prefer to
stand," I put in, for he was again urging me by a gesture to seat
myself.
"The real cause--" he repeated.
"--is one you will smile at, but which you must nevertheless
respect. She thinks--she has confided to us, in fact--that she has
seen, within these walls, what many others profess to have seen.
You understand me, Mr. Steele?"
"I don't know that I do, Miss Saunders."
"I find it hard to speak it; you have heard, of course, the common
gossip about this house."
"That it is haunted?" he smiled, somewhat disdainfully.
"Yes. Well, Mrs. Packard believes that she has seen what--what
gives this name to the house."
"A ghost?"
"Yes, a ghost--in the library one night."
"Ah!"
The ejaculation was eloquent. I did not altogether understand it,
but its chief expression seemed to be contempt. I began to fear he
would not have sufficient sympathy with such an unreasoning state
of mind to give me the attention and assistance I desired. He saw
the effect it had upon me and hastened to say:
"The impression Mrs. Packard has made upon me was of a common-sense
woman. I'm sorry to hear that she is the victim of an
hallucination. What do you propose to do about it?--for I see that
you have some project in mind."
Then I told him as much of my story as seemed necessary to obtain
his advice and to secure his cooperation. I confided to him my
theory of the unexplainable sights and sounds which had so
unfortunately aroused Mrs. Packard's imagination, and what I had
done so far to substantiate it. I did not mention the bonds, nor
tell him of Bess and her box, but led him to think that my
experiments in the cellar had been the result of my discoveries in
the side entrance.
He listened gravely--I hardly feel justified in saying with a
surprise that was complimentary. I am not sure that it was. Such
men are difficult to understand. When I had finished, he remarked
with a smile:
"So you conclude that the floor of this place is movable and that
the antiquated ladies you mention have stretched their old limbs in
a difficult climb, just for the game of frightening out tenants
they did not desire for neighbors?"
"I know that it sounds ridiculous," I admitted, refraining still,
in spite of the great temptation, from mentioning the treasure
which it was the one wish of their lives to protect from the
discovery of others. "If they were quite sane I should perhaps not
have the courage to suggest this explanation of what has been heard
and seen here. But they are not quite sane; a glance at their faces
is enough to convince one of this, and from minds touched with
insanity anything can be expected. Will you go with me to this side
entrance and examine the floor for yourself? The condition of things
under it I will ask you to take my word for; you will hardly wish to
visit the cellar on an exploring expedition till you are reasonably
assured of its necessity."
His eye, which had grown curiously cold and unresponsive through
this, turned from me toward the desk before which he had been
sitting. It was heaped high with a batch of unopened letters, and
I could readily understand what was in his mind.
"You will be helping the mayor more by listening to me," I
continued earnestly, "than by anything you can do here. Believe
me, Mr. Steele, I am no foolish, unadvised girl. I know what I am
talking about."
He suppressed an impatient sigh and endeavored to show a proper
appreciation of my own estimate of myself and the value of my
communication.
"I am at your service," said he.
I wished he had been a little more enthusiastic, but, careful not
to show my disappointment, I added, as I led the way to the door:
"I wish we could think of some way of securing ourselves from
interruption. Nixon does not like me, and will be sure to interest
himself in our movements if he sees us go down that hall together."
"Is there any harm in that?"
"There might be. He is suspicious of me, which makes it impossible
for one to count upon his conduct. If he saw us meddling with the
cabinet, he would be very apt to rush with his complaints to Mrs.
Packard, and I am not ready yet to take her into our confidence.
I want first to be sure that my surmises are correct."
"You are quite right." If any sarcasm tinged this admission, he
successfully hid it. "I think I can dispose of Nixon for a short
time," he went on. "You are bent upon meddling with that vestibule
floor?"
"Yes."
"Even if I should advise not?"
"Yes, Mr. Steele; even if you roused the household and called Mrs.
Packard down to witness my folly. But I should prefer to make my
experiments quickly and without any other witness than yourself.
I am not without some pride to counterbalance my presumption."
We had come to a stand before the door as I said this. As I
finished, he laid his hand on the knob, saying kindly:
"Your wishes shall be considered. Take a seat in the library, Miss
Saunders, and in a few moments I will join you. I have a task for
Nixon which will keep him employed for some time."
At this he opened the door and I glided out. Making my way to the
library I hastened in and threw myself into one of its great
chairs. In another minute I heard Mr. Steele summon Nixon, and in
the short interview which followed between them heard enough to
comprehend that he was loading the old butler's arms with a large
mass of documents and papers for immediate consumption in the
furnace. Nixon was not to leave till they were all safely
consumed. The grumble which followed from the old fellow's lips
was not the most cheerful sound in the world, but he went back with
his pile. Presently I heard the furnace door rattle and caught the
smell, which I was careful to explain to Ellen as she went by the
library door on her way up-stairs, lest Mrs. Packard should be
alarmed and come running down to see what was the matter.
The next moment Mr. Steele appeared in the doorway.
"Now what are we to do?" said he.
I led the way to what I have sometimes called "the recess" for lack
of a better name.
"This is the place," I cried, adding a few explanations as I saw
the curiosity with which he now surveyed its various features.
"Don't you see now that cabinet leans to the left? I declare it
leans more than it did yesterday; the floor certainly dips at that
point."
He cast a glance where I pointed and instinctively put out his
hand, but let it fall as I remarked:
"The cabinet is not so very heavy. If I take out a few of those
big pieces of pottery, don't you think we could lift it away from
this corner?"
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