No doubt you are peacefully settled on your ancestral estate with only a few months and a little patience between you and your grandfathers shier. You always were a lucky brute. People die just to leave you money, whereas Ill have to die to get out of jail.

I hope to land under the Stars and Stripes within a few days, either across country through El Paso or via New Orleanspreferably the former, as a mans social position is rated high in Texas in proportion to the amount of reward thats out for him. Theyd probably give me the freedom of the state if they knew my crimes had been the subject of debate in the House of Commons.

But the man across the table is casually looking over here for a glimpse of my signature, so I must give him a good one just for fun. With best wishes always, Faithfully yours, GEORGE WASHINGTON SMITH.

P. SI shant mail this here, but give it to a red-haired Irishman on a steamer that sails north to-night. Pleasant, I must say, this eternal dodging! Wish I could share your rural paradise for the length of a pipe and a bottle! Have forgotten whether you said Indian Territory or Indiana, but will take chances on the latter as more remotely suggesting the aborigines.

Bates gave me my coffee in the library, as I wished to settle down to an evening of reflection without delay. Larrys report of himself was not reassuring. I knew that if he had any idea of trying to reach me he would not mention it in a letter which might fall into the hands of the authorities, and the hope that he might join me grew. I was not, perhaps, entitled to a companion at Glenarm under the terms of my exile, but as a matter of protection in the existing condition of affairs there could be no legal or moral reason why I should not defend myself against my foes, and Larry was an ally worth having.

In all my hours of questioning and anxiety at Glenarm I never doubted the amiable intentions of my grandfather. His device for compelling my residence at his absurd house was in keeping with his character, and it was all equitable enough. But his dead hand had no control over the strange issue, and I felt justified in interpreting the will in the light of my experiences. I certainly did not intend to appeal to the local police authorities, at least not until the animus of the attack on me was determined.

My neighbor, the chaplain, had inadvertently given me a bit of important news; and my mind kept reverting to the fact that Morgan was reporting his injury to the executor of my grandfathers estate in New York. Everything else that had happened was tame and unimportant compared with this. Why had John Marshall Glenarm made Arthur Pickering the executor of his estate? He knew that I detested him, that Pickerings noble aims and high ambitions had been praised by my family until his very name sickened me; and yet my own grandfather had thought it wise to intrust his fortune and my future to the man of all men who was most repugnant to me. I rose and paced the floor in anger.

Instead of accepting Pickerings word for it that the will was all straight, I should have employed counsel and taken legal advice before suffering myself to be rushed away into a part of the world I had never visited before, and cooped up in a dreary house under the eye of a somber scoundrel who might poison me any day, if he did not prefer to shoot me in my sleep. My rage must fasten upon some one, and Bates was the nearest target for it. I went to the kitchen, where he usually spent his evenings, to vent my feelings upon him, only to find him gone. I climbed to his room and found it empty. Very likely he was off condoling with his friend and fellow conspirator, the caretaker, and I fumed with rage and disappointment. I was thoroughly tired, as tired as on days when I had beaten my way through tropical jungles without food or water; but I wished, in my impotent anger against I knew not what agencies, to punish myself, to induce an utter weariness that would drag me exhausted to bed.

The snow in the highway was well beaten down and I swung off countryward past St. Agathas. A gray mist hung over the fields in whirling clouds, breaking away occasionally and showing the throbbing winter stars. The walk, and my interest in the alternation of star-lighted and mist-wrapped landscape won me to a better state of mind, and after tramping a couple of miles, I set out for home. Several times on my tramp I had caught myself whistling the air of a majestic old hymn, and smiled, remembering my young friend Olivia, and her playing in the chapel. She was an amusing child; the thought of her further lifted my spirit; and I turned into the school park as I passed the outer gate with a half-recognized wish to pass near the barracks where she spent her days.

At the school-gate the lamps of a carriage suddenly blurred in the mist. Carriages were not common in this region, and I was not surprised to find that this was the familiar village hack that met trains day and night at Glenarm station. Some parent, I conjectured, paying a visit to St. Agathas; perhaps the father of Miss Olivia Gladys Armstrong had come to carry her home for a stricter discipline than Sister Theresas school afforded.

The driver sat asleep on his box, and I passed him and went on into the grounds. A whim seized me to visit the crypt of the chapel and examine the opening to the tunnel. As I passed the little group of school-buildings a man came hurriedly from one of them and turned toward the chapel.

I first thought it was Stoddard, but I could not make him out in the mist and I waited for him to put twenty paces between us before I followed along the path that led from the school to the chapel.

He strode into the chapel porch with an air of assurance, and I heard him address some one who had been waiting. The mist was now so heavy that I could not see my hand before my face, and I stole forward until I could hear the voices of the two men distinctly.

Bates!

Yes, sir.

I heard feet scraping on the stone floor of the porch.

This is a devil of a place to talk in but its the best we can do. Did the young man know I sent for you?

No, sir. He was quite busy with his books and papers.

Humph! We can never be sure of him.

I suppose that is correct, sir.

Well, you and Morgan are a fine pair, I must say! I thought he had some sense, and that youd see to it that he didnt make a mess of this thing. Hes in bed now with a hole in his arm and youve got to go on alone.

Ill do my best, Mr. Pickering.

Dont call me by name, you idiot. Were not advertising our business from the housetops.

Certainly not, replied Bates humbly.

The blood was roaring through my head, and my hands were clenched as I stood there listening to this colloquy.

Pickerings voice wasand isunmistakable. There was always a purring softness in it. He used to remind me at school of a sleek, complacent cat, and I hate cats with particular loathing.

Is Morgan lying or not when he says he shot himself accidentally? demanded Pickering petulantly.

I only know what I heard from the gardener here at the school. Youll understand, I hope, that I cant be seen going to Morgans house.

Of course not. But he says you havent played fair with him, that you even attacked him a few days after Glenarm came.

Yes, and he hit me over the head with a club. It was his indiscretion, sir. He wanted to go through the library in broad daylight, and it wasnt any use, anyhow. Theres nothing there.

But I dont like the looks of this shooting. Morgans sick and out of his head. But a fellow like Morgan isnt likely to shoot himself accidentally, and now that its done the works stopped and the time is running on. What do you think Glenarm suspects?

I cant tell, sir, but mighty little, I should say. The shot through the window the first night he was here seemed to shake him a trifle, but hes quite settled down now, I should say, sir.

He probably doesnt spend much time on this side of the fencedoesnt haunt the chapel, I fancy?

Lord, no, sir! I hardly suspect the young gentleman of being a praying man.

You havent seen him prowling about analyzing the architecture

Not a bit of it, sir. He hasnt, I should say, what his revered grandfather called the analytical mind.

Hearing yourself discussed in this frank fashion by your own servant is, I suppose, a wholesome thing for the spirit. The man who stands behind your chair may acquire, in time, some special knowledge of your mental processes by a diligent study of the back of your head. But I was not half so angry with these conspirators as with myself, for ever having entertained a single generous thought toward Bates. It was, however, consoling to know that Morgan was lying to Pickering, and that my own exploits in the house were unknown to the executor.

Pickering stamped his feet upon the paved porch floor in a way that I remembered of old. It marked a conclusion, and preluded serious statements.

Now, Bates, he said, with a ring of authority and speaking in a louder key than he had yet used, its your duty under all the circumstances to help discover the hidden assets of the estate. Weve got to pluck the mystery from that architectural monster over there, and the time for doing it is short enough. Mr. Glenarm was a rich man. To my own knowledge he had a couple of millions, and he couldnt have spent it all on that house. He reduced his bank account to a few thousand dollars and swept out his safety-vault boxes with a broom before his last trip into Vermont. He didnt die with the stuff in his clothes, did he?

Lord bless me, no, sir! There was little enough cash to bury him, with you out of the country and me alone with him.

He was a crank and I suppose he got a lot of satisfaction out of concealing his money. But this hunt for it isnt funny. I supposed, of course, wed dig it up before Glenarm got here or I shouldnt have been in such a hurry to send for him. But its over there somewhere, or in the grounds. There must he a plan of the house that would help. Ill give you a thousand dollars the day you wire me you have found any sort of clue.

Thank you, sir.

I dont want thanks, I want the money or securities or whatever it is. Ive got to go back to my car now, and youd better skip home. You neednt tell your young master that Ive been here.

I was trying hard to believe, as I stood there with clenched hands outside the chapel porch, that Arthur Pickerings name was written in the list of directors of one of the greatest trust companies in America, and that he belonged to the most exclusive clubs in New York. I had run out for a walk with only an inverness over my dinner-jacket, and I was thoroughly chilled by the cold mist. I was experiencing, too, an inner cold as I reflected upon the greed and perfidy of man.

Keep an eye on Morgan, said Pickering.

Certainly, sir.

And be careful what you write or wire.

Ill mind those points, sir. But Id suggest, if you please, sir

Well? demanded Pickering impatiently.

That you should call at the house. It would look rather strange to the young gentleman if youd come here and not see him.

I havent the slightest errand with him. And besides, I havent time. If he learns that Ive been here you may say that my business was with Sister Theresa and that I regretted very much not having an opportunity to call on him.

The irony of this was not lost on Bates, who chuckled softly. He came out into the open and turned away toward the Glenarm gate. Pickering passed me, so near that I might have put out my hand and touched him, and in a moment I heard the carriage drive off rapidly toward the village.

I heard Bates running home over the snow and listened to the clatter of the village hack as it bore Pickering back to Annandale.

Then out of the depths of the chapel porchout of the depths of time and space, it seemed, so dazed I stood some one came swiftly toward me, some one, light of foot like a woman, ran down the walk a little way into the fog and paused.

An exclamation broke from me.

Eavesdropping for two!it was the voice of Olivia. Id take pretty good care of myself if I were you, Squire Glenarm. Good night!

Good-by! I faltered, as she sped away into the mist toward the school.



CHAPTER XIV

THE GIRL IN GRAY

My first thought was to find the crypt door and return through the tunnel before Bates reached the house. The chapel was open, and by lighting matches I found my way to the map and panel. I slipped through and closed the opening; then ran through the passage with gratitude for the generous builder who had given it a clear floor and an ample roof. In my haste I miscalculated its length and pitched into the steps under the trap at a speed that sent me sprawling. In a moment more I had jammed the trap into place and was running up the cellar steps, breathless, with my cap smashed down over my eyes.

I heard Bates at the rear of the house and knew I had won the race by a scratch. There was but a moment in which to throw my coat and cap under the divan, slap the dust from my clothes and seat myself at the great table, where the candles blazed tranquilly.

Bates step was as steady as everthere was not the slightest hint of excitement in itas he came and stood within the door.

Beg pardon, Mr. Glenarm, did you wish anything, sir?

Oh, no, thank you, Bates.

I had stepped down to the village, sir, to speak to the grocer. The eggs he sent this morning were not quite up to the mark. I have warned him not to send any of the storage article to this house.

Thats right, Bates. I folded my arms to hide my hands, which were black from contact with the passage, and faced my man servant. My respect for his rascally powers had increased immensely since he gave me my coffee. A contest with so clever a rogue was worth while.

Im grateful for your good care of me, Bates. I had expected to perish of discomfort out here, but you are treating me like a lord.

Thank you, Mr. Glenarm. I do what I can, sir.

He brought fresh candles for the table candelabra, going about with his accustomed noiseless step. I felt a cold chill creep down my spine as he passed behind me on these errands. His transition from the rôle of conspirator to that of my flawless servant was almost too abrupt.

I dismissed him as quickly as possible, and listened to his step through the halls as he went about locking the doors. This was a regular incident, but I was aware to-night that he exercised what seemed to me a particular care in settling the bolts. The locking-up process had rather bored me before; to-night the snapping of bolts was particularly trying.

When I heard Bates climbing to his own quarters I quietly went the rounds on my own account and found everything as tight as a drum.

In the cellar I took occasion to roll some barrels of cement into the end of the corridor, to cover and block the trap door. Bates had no manner of business in that part of the house, as the heating apparatus was under the kitchen and accessible by an independent stairway. I had no immediate use for the hidden passage to the chapeland I did not intend that my enemies should avail themselves of it. Morgan, at least, knew of it and, while he was not likely to trouble me at once, I had resolved to guard every point in our pleasant game.

I was tired enough to sleep when I went to my room, and after an eventless night, woke to a clear day and keener air.

Im going to take a little run into the village, Bates, I remarked at breakfast.

Very good, sir. The weathers quite cleared.

If any one should call Ill be back in an hour or so.

Yes, sir.

He turned his impenetrable face toward me as I rose. There was, of course, no chance whatever that any one would call to see me; the Reverend Paul Stoddard was the only human being, except Bates, Morgan and the man who brought up my baggage, who had crossed the threshold since my arrival.

I really had an errand in the village. I wished to visit the hardware store and buy some cartridges, but Pickerings presence in the community was a disturbing factor in my mind. I wished to get sight of him, to meet him, if possible, and see how a man, whose schemes were so deep, looked in the light of day.

As I left the grounds and gained the highway Stoddard fell in with me.

Well, Mr. Glenarm, Im glad to see you abroad so early. With that library of yours the temptation must be strong to stay within doors. But a mans got to subject himself to the sun and wind. Even a good wetting now and then is salutary.

I try to get out every day, I answered. But Ive chiefly limited myself to the grounds.

Well, its a fine estate. The lake is altogether charming in summer. I quite envy you your fortune.

He walked with a long swinging stride, his hands thrust deep into his overcoat pockets. It was difficult to accept the idea of so much physical strength being wasted in the mere business of saying prayers in a girls school. Here was a fellow who should have been captain of a ship or a soldier, a leader of forlorn hopes. I felt sure there must be a weakness of some sort in him. Quite possibly it would prove to be a mild estheticism that delighted in the savor of incense and the mournful cadence of choral vespers. He declined a cigar and this rather increased my suspicions.

The village hack, filled with young women, passed at a gallop, bound for the station, and we took off our hats.

Christmas holidays, explained the chaplain. Practically all the students go home.

Lucky kids, to have a Christmas to go home to!

I suppose Mr. Pickering got away last night? he observed, and my pulse quickened at the name.

I havent seen him yet, I answered guardedly.

Then of course he hasnt gone! and these words, uttered in the big clergymans deep tones, seemed wholly plausible. There was, to be sure, nothing so unlikely as that Arthur Pickering, executor of my grandfathers estate, would come to Glenarm without seeing me.

Sister Theresa told me this morning he was here. He called on her and Miss Devereux last night. I havent seen him myself. I thought possibly I might run into him in the village. His cars very likely on the station switch.

No doubt we shall find him there, I answered easily.

The Annandale station presented an appearance of unusual gaiety when we reached the main street of the village. There, to be sure, lay a private car on the siding, and on the platform was a group of twenty or more girls, with several of the brown-habited Sisters of St. Agatha. There was something a little foreign in the picture; the girls in their bright colors talking gaily, the Sisters in their somber garb hovering about, suggesting France or Italy rather than Indiana.

I came here with the idea that St. Agathas was a charity school, I remarked to the chaplain.

Not a bit of it! Sister Theresa is really a swell, you know, and her school is hard to get into.

Im glad you warned me in time. I had thought of sending over a sack of flour occasionally, or a few bolts of calico to help on the good work. Youve saved my life.

I probably have. I might mention your good intentions to Sister Theresa.

Pray dont. If theres any danger of meeting her on that platform

No; she isnt coming down, Im sure. But you ought to know her,if you will pardon me. And Miss Devereux is charming,but really I dont mean to be annoying.

Not in the least. But under the circumstances, the will and my probationary year,you can understand

Certainly. A mans affairs are his own, Mr. Glenarm.

We stepped upon the platform. The private car was on the opposite side of the station and had been switched into a siding of the east and west road. Pickering was certainly getting on. The private car, even more than the yacht, is the symbol of plutocracy, and gaping rustics were evidently impressed by its grandeur. As I lounged across the platform with Stoddard, Pickering came out into the vestibule of his car, followed by two ladies and an elderly gentleman. They all descended and began a promenade of the plank walk.

Pickering saw me an instant later and came up hurriedly, with outstretched hand.

This is indeed good fortune! We dropped off here last night rather unexpectedly to rest a hot-box and should have been picked up by the midnight express for Chicago; but there was a miscarriage of orders somewhere and we now have to wait for the nine oclock, and its late. If Id known how much behind it was I should have run out to see you. How are things going?

As smooth as a whistle! It really isnt so bad when you face it. And the fact is Im actually at work.

Thats splendid. The year will go fast enough, never fear. I suppose you pine for a little human society now and then. A man can never strike the right medium in such things. In New York we are all rushed to death. I sometimes feel that Id like a little rustication myself. I get nervous, and working for corporations is wearing. The old gentleman there is Taylor, president of the Interstate and Western. The ladies are his wife and her sister. Id like to introduce you. He ran his eyes over my corduroys and leggings amiably. He had not in years addressed me so pleasantly.

Stoddard had left me to go to the other end of the platform to speak to some of the students. I followed Pickering rather loathly to where the companions of his travels were pacing to and fro in the crisp morning air.

I laugh still whenever I remember that morning at Annandale station. As soon as Pickering had got me well under way in conversation with Taylor, he excused himself hurriedly and went off, as I assumed, to be sure the station agent had received orders for attaching the private car to the Chicago express. Taylor proved to be a supercilious person,I believe they call him Chilly Billy at the Metropolitan Club,and our efforts to converse were pathetically unfruitful. He asked me the value of land in my county, and as my ignorance on this subject was vast and illimitable, I could see that he was forming a low opinion of my character and intelligence. The two ladies stood by, making no concealment of their impatience. Their eyes were upon the girls from St. Agathas on the other platform, whom they could see beyond me. I had jumped the conversation from Indiana farm-lands to the recent disorders in Bulgaria, which interested me more, when Mrs. Taylor spoke abruptly to her sister.

Thats shethe one in the gray coat, talking to the clergyman. She came a moment ago in the carriage.

The one with the umbrella? I thought you said

Mrs. Taylor glanced at her sister warningly, and they both looked at me. Then they sought to detach themselves and moved away. There was some one on the farther side of the platform whom they wished to see, and Taylor, not understanding their manoeuverhe was really anxious, I think, not to be left alone with me started down the platform after them, I following. Mrs. Taylor and her sister walked to the end of the platform and looked across, a biscuit-toss away, to where Stoddard stood talking to the girl I had already heard described as wearing a gray coat and carrying an umbrella.

The girl in gray crossed the track quickly and addressed the two women cordially. Taylors back was to her and he was growing eloquent in a mild well-bred way over the dullness of our statesmen in not seeing the advantages that would accrue to the United States in fostering our shipping industry. His wife, her sister and the girl in gray were so near that I could hear plainly what they were saying. They were referring apparently to the girls refusal of an invitation to accompany them to California.

So you cant goits too bad! We had hoped that when you really saw us on the way you would relent, said Mrs. Taylor.

But there are many reasons; and above all Sister Theresa needs me.

It was the voice of Olivia, a little lower, a little more restrained than I had known it.

But think of the rose gardens that are waiting for us out there! said the other lady. They were showing her the deference that elderly women always have for pretty girls.

Alas, and again alas! exclaimed Olivia. Please dont make it harder for me than necessary. But I gave my promise a year ago to spend these holidays in Cincinnati.

She ignored me wholly, and after shaking hands with the ladies returned to the other platform. I wondered whether she was overlooking Taylor on purpose to cut me.

Taylor was still at his lecture on the needs of our American merchant marine when Pickering passed hurriedly, crossed the track and began speaking earnestly to the girl in gray.

The American flag should command the seas. What we need is not more battle-ships but more freight carriers Taylor was saying.

But I was watching Olivia Gladys Armstrong. In a long skirt, with her hair caught up under a gray toque that matched her coat perfectly, she was not my Olivia of the tam-o-shanter, who had pursued the rabbit; nor yet the unsophisticated school-girl, who had suffered my idiotic babble; nor, again, the dreamy rapt organist of the chapel. She was a grown woman with at least twenty summers to her credit, and there was about her an air of knowing the world, and of not being at all a person one would make foolish speeches to. She spoke to Pickering gravely. Once she smiled dolefully and shook her head, and I vaguely strove to remember where I had seen that look in her eyes before. Her gold beads, which I had once carried in my pocket, were clasped tight about the close collar of her dress; and I was glad, very glad, that I had ever touched anything that belonged to her.

As the years go by we are going to dominate trade more and more. Our manufactures already lead the world, and what we make weve got to sell, havent we? demanded Taylor.

Certainly, sir, I answered warmly.

Who was Olivia Gladys Armstrong and what was Arthur Pickerings business with her? And what was it she had said to me that evening when I had found her playing on the chapel organ? So much happened that day that I had almost forgotten, and, indeed, I had tried to forget I had made a fool of myself for the edification of an amusing little school-girl. I see you prefer to ignore the first time I ever saw you, she had said; but if I had thought of this at all it had been with righteous self-contempt. Or, I may have flattered my vanity with the reflection that she had eyed me her hero, perhapswith wistful admiration across the wall.

Meanwhile the Chicago express roared into Annandale and the private car was attached. Taylor watched the trainmen with the cool interest of a man for whom the proceeding had no novelty, while he continued to dilate upon the nations commercial opportunities. I turned perforce, and walked with him back toward the station, where Mrs. Taylor and her sister were talking to the conductor.

Pickering came running across the platform with several telegrams in his hand. The express had picked up the car and was ready to continue its westward journey.

Im awfully sorry, Glenarm, that our stops so short,and Pickerings face wore a worried look as he addressed me, his eyes on the conductor.

How far do you go? I asked.

California. We have interests out there and I have to attend some stock-holders meetings in Colorado in January.

Ah, you business men! You business men! I said reproachfully. I wished to call him a blackguard then and there, and it was on my tongue to do so, but I concluded that to wait until he had shown his hand fully was the better game.

The ladies entered the car and I shook hands with Taylor, who threatened to send me his pamphlet on The Needs of American Shipping, when he got back to New York.

Its too bad she wouldnt go with us. Poor girl! this must be a dreary hole for her; she deserves wider horizons, he said to Pickering, who helped him upon the platform of the car with what seemed to be unnecessary precipitation.

You little know us, I declared, for Pickerings benefit. Life at Annandale is nothing if not exciting. The people here are indifferent marksmen or thered be murders galore.

Mr. Glenarm is a good deal of a wag, explained Pickering dryly, swinging himself aboard as the train started.

Yes; its my humor that keeps me alive, I responded, and taking off my hat, I saluted Arthur Pickering with my broadest salaam.



CHAPTER XV

I MAKE AN ENGAGEMENT

The south-bound train had not arrived and as I turned away the station-agent again changed its time on the bulletin board. It was now due in ten minutes. A few students had boarded the Chicago train, but a greater number still waited on the farther platform. The girl in gray was surrounded by half a dozen students, all talking animatedly. As I walked toward them I could not justify my stupidity in mistaking a grown woman for a school-girl of fifteen or sixteen; but is was the tam-o-shanter, the short skirt, the youthful joy in the outdoor world that had disguised her as effectually as Rosalind to the eyes of Orlando in the forest of Arden. She was probably a teacher,quite likely the teacher of music, I argued, who had amused herself at my expense.

It had seemed the easiest thing in the world to approach her with an apology or a farewell, but those few inches added to her skirt and that pretty gray toque substituted for the tam-o-shanter set up a barrier that did not yield at all as I drew nearer. At the last moment, as I crossed the track and stepped upon the other platform, it occurred to me that while I might have some claim upon the attention of Olivia Gladys Armstrong, a wayward school-girl of athletic tastes, I had none whatever upon a person whom it was proper to address as Miss Armstrong,who was, I felt sure, quite capable of snubbing me if snubbing fell in with her mood.

She glanced toward me and bowed instantly. Her young companions withdrew to a conservative distance; and I will say this for the St. Agatha girls: their manners are beyond criticism, and an affable discretion is one of their most admirable traits.

I didnt know they ever grew up so fast,in a day and a night!

I was glad I remembered the number of beads in her chain; the item seemed at once to become important.

Its the air, I suppose. Its praised by excellent critics, as you may learn from the catalogue.

But you are going to an ampler ether, a diviner air. You have attained the beatific state and at once take flight. If they confer perfection like an academic degree at St. Agathas, then

I had never felt so stupidly helpless in my life. There were a thousand things I wished to say to her; there were countless questions I wished to ask; but her calmness and poise were disconcerting. She had not, apparently, the slightest curiosity about me; and there was no reason why she should haveI knew that well enough! Her eyes met mine easily; their azure depths puzzled me. She was almost, but not quite, some one I had seen before, and it was not my woodland Olivia. Her eyes, the soft curve of her cheek, the light in her hair,but the memory of another time, another place, another girl, lured only to baffle me.

She laughed,a little murmuring laugh.

Ill never tell if you wont, she said.

But I dont see how that helps me with you?

It certainly does not! That is a much more serious matter, Mr. Glenarm.

And the worst of it is that I havent a single thing to say for myself. It wasnt the not knowing that was so utterly stupid

Certainly not! It was talking that ridiculous twaddle. It was trying to flirt with a silly school-girl. What will do for fifteen is somewhat vacuous for

She paused abruptly, colored and laughed.

I am twenty-seven!

And I am just the usual age, she said.

Ages dont count, but time is important. There are many things I wish youd tell me,you who hold the key of the gate of mystery.

Then youll have to pick the lock!

She laughed lightly. The somber Sisters patrolling the platform with their charges heeded us little.

I had no idea you knew Arthur Pickeringwhen you were just Olivia in the tam-o-shanter.

Maybe you think he wouldnt have cared for my acquaintanceas Olivia in the tam-o-shanter. Men are very queer!

But Arthur Pickering is an old friend of mine.

So he told me.

We were neighbors in our youth.

I believe I have heard him mention it.

And we did our prep school together, and then parted!

You tell exactly the same story, so it must be true. He went to college and you went to Tech.

And you knew him? I began, my curiosity thoroughly aroused.

Not at college, any more than I knew you at Tech.

The trains coming, I said earnestly, and I wish you would tell mewhen I shall see you again!

Before we part for ever? There was a mischievous hint of the Olivia in short skirts in her tone.

Please dont suggest it! Our times have been strange and few. There was that first night, when you called to me from the lake.

How impertinent! How dare youremember that?

And there was that other encounter at the chapel porch. Neither you nor I had the slightest business there. I admit my own culpability.

She colored again.

But you spoke as though you understood what you must have heard there. It is important for me to know. I have a right to know just what you meant by that warning.

Real distress showed in her face for an instant. The agent and his helpers rushed the last baggage down the platform, and the rails hummed their warning of the approaching train.

I was eavesdropping on my own account, she said hurriedly and with a note of finality. I was there by intention, andthere was another hint of the tam-o-shanter in the mirth that seemed to bubble for a moment in her throatits too bad you didnt see me, for I had on my prettiest gown, and the fog wasnt good for it. But you know as much of what was said there as I do. You are a man, and I have heard that you have had some experience in taking care of yourself, Mr. Glenarm.

To be sure; but there are times

Yes, there are times when the odds seem rather heavy. I have noticed that myself.

She smiled, but for an instant the sad look came into her eyes,a look that vaguely but insistently suggested another time and place.

I want you to come back, I said boldly, for the train was very near, and I felt that the eyes of the Sisters were upon us. You can not go away where I shall not find you!

I did not know who this girl was, her home, or her relation to the school, but I knew that her life and mine had touched strangely; that her eyes were blue, and that her voice had called to me twice through the dark, in mockery once and in warning another time, and that the sense of having known her before, of having looked into her eyes, haunted me. The youth in her was so luring; she was at once so frank and so guarded,breeding and the taste and training of an ampler world than that of Annandale were so evidenced in the witchery of her voice, in the grace and ease that marked her every motion, in the soft gray tone of hat, dress and gloves, that a new mood, a new hope and faith sang in my pulses. There, on that platform, I felt again the sweet heartache I had known as a boy, when spring first warmed the Vermont hillsides and the mountains sent the last snows singing in joy of their release down through the brook-beds and into the wakened heart of youth.

She met my eyes steadily.

If I thought there was the slightest chance of my ever seeing you again I shouldnt be talking to you here. But I thought, I thought it would be good fun to see how you really talked to a grown-up. So I am risking the displeasure of these good Sisters just to test your conversational powers, Mr. Glenarm. You see how perfectly frank I am.

But you forget that I can follow you; I dont intend to sit down in this hole and dream about you. You cant go anywhere but I shall follow and find you.

That is finely spoken, Squire Glenarm! But I imagine you are hardly likely to go far from Glenarm very soon. It isnt, of course, any of my affair; and yet I dont hesitate to say that I feel perfectly safe from pursuit!and she laughed her little low laugh that was delicious in its mockery.

I felt the blood mounting to my cheek. She knew, then, that I was virtually a prisoner at Glenarm, and for once in my life, at least, I was ashamed of my folly that had caused my grandfather to hold and check me from the grave, as he had never been able to control me in his life. The whole countryside knew why I was at Glenarm, and that did not matter; but my heart rebelled at the thought that this girl knew and mocked me with her knowledge.

I shall see you Christmas Eve, I said, wherever you may be.

In three days? Then you will come to my Christmas Eve party. I shall be delighted to see you,and flattered! Just think of throwing away a fortune to satisfy ones curiosity! Im surprised at you, but gratified, on the whole, Mr. Glenarm!

I shall give more than a fortune, I shall give the honor I have pledged to my grandfathers memory to hear your voice again.

That is a great deal,for so small a voice; but money, fortune! A man will risk his honor readily enough, but his fortune is a more serious matter. Im sorry we shall not meet again. It would be pleasant to discuss the subject further. It interests me particularly.

In three days I shall see you, I said.

She was instantly grave.

No! Please do not try. It would be a great mistake. And, anyhow, you can hardly come to my party without being invited.

That matter is closed. Wherever you are on Christmas Eve I shall find you, I said, and felt my heart leap, knowing that I meant what I said.

Good-by, she said, turning away. Im sorry I shant ever chase rabbits at Glenarm any more.

Or paddle a canoe, or play wonderful celestial music on the organ.

Or be an eavesdropper or hear pleasant words from the master of Glenarm

But I dont know where you are goingyou havent told me anythingyou are slipping out into the world

She did not hear or would not answer. She turned away, and was at once surrounded by a laughing throng that crowded about the train. Two brown-robed Sisters stood like sentinels, one at either side, as she stepped into the car. I was conscious of a feeling that from the depths of their hoods they regarded me with un-Christian disdain. Through the windows I could see the students fluttering to seats, and the girl in gray seemed to be marshaling them. The gray hat appeared at a window for an instant, and a smiling face gladdened, I am sure, the guardians of the peace at St. Agathas, for whom it was intended.

The last trunk crashed into the baggage car, every window framed for a moment a girls face, and the train was gone.



CHAPTER XVI

THE PASSING OF OLIVIA

Bates brought a great log and rolled it upon exactly the right spot on the andirons, and a great constellation of sparks thronged up the chimney. The old relic of a houseI called the establishment by many names, but this was, I think, my favoritecould be heated in all its habitable parts, as Bates had demonstrated. The halls were of glacial temperature these cold days, but my room above, the dining-room and the great library were comfortable enough. I threw down a book and knocked the ashes from my pipe.

Bates!

Yes, sir.

I think my spiritual welfare is in jeopardy. I need counsel,a spiritual adviser.

Im afraid thats beyond me, sir.

Id like to invite Mr. Stoddard to dinner so I may discuss my souls health with him at leisure.

Certainly, Mr. Glenarm.

But it occurs to me that probably the terms of Mr. Glenarms will point to my complete sequestration here. In other words, I may forfeit my rights by asking a guest to dinner.

He pondered the matter for a moment, then replied:

I should think, sir,as you ask my opinion,that in the case of a gentleman in holy orders there would be no impropriety. Mr. Stoddard is a fine gentleman; I heard your late grandfather speak of him very highly.

That, I imagine, is hardly conclusive in the matter. There is the executor

To be sure; I hadnt considered him.

Well, youd better consider him. Hes the court of last resort, isnt he?

Well, of course, thats one way of looking at it, sir.

I suppose theres no chance of Mr. Pickerings dropping in on us now and then.

He gazed at me steadily, unblinkingly and with entire respect.

Hes a good deal of a traveler, Mr. Pickering is. He passed through only this morning, so the mail-boy told me. You may have met him at the station.

Oh, yes; to be sure; so I did I I replied. I was not as good a liar as Bates; and there was nothing to be gained by denying that I had met the executor in the village. I had a very pleasant talk with him. He was on the way to California with several friends.

That is quite his way, I understand,private cars and long journeys about the country. A very successful man is Mr. Pickering. Your grandfather had great confidence in him, did Mr. Glenarm.

Ah, yes! A fine judge of character my grandfather was! I guess John Marshall Glenarm could spot a rascal about as far as any man in his day.

I felt like letting myself go before this masked scoundrel. The density of his mask was an increasing wonder to me. Bates was the most incomprehensible human being I had ever known. I had been torn with a thousand conflicting emotions since I overheard him discussing the state of affairs at Glenarm House with Pickering in the chapel porch; and Pickerings acquaintance with the girl in gray brought new elements into the affair that added to my uneasiness. But here was a treasonable dog on whom the stress of conspiracy had no outward effect whatever.

It was an amazing situation, but it called for calmness and eternal vigilance. With every hour my resolution grew to stand fast and fight it out on my own account without outside help. A thousand times during the afternoon I had heard the voice of the girl in gray saying to me: You are a man, and I have heard that you have had some experience in taking care of yourself, Mr. Glenarm.

It was both a warning and a challenge, and the memory of the words was at once sobering and cheering.

Bates waited. Of him, certainly, I should ask no questions touching Olivia Armstrong. To discuss her with a blackguard servant even to gain answers to baffling questions about her was not to my liking. And, thank God! I taught myself one thing, if nothing more, in those days at Glenarm House: I learned to bide my time.

Ill give you a note to Mr. Stoddard in the morning. You may go now.

Yes, sir.

The note was written and despatched. The chaplain was not at his lodgings, and Bates reported that he had left the message. The answer came presently by the hand of the Scotch gardener, Ferguson, a short, wiry, raw-boned specimen. I happened to open the door myself, and brought him into the library until I could read Stoddards reply. Ferguson had, I thought, an uneasy eye, and his hair, of an ugly carrot color, annoyed me.

Mr. Paul Stoddard presented his compliments and would be delighted to dine with me. He wrote a large even hand, as frank and open as himself.

That is all, Ferguson. And the gardener took himself off.

Thus it came about that Stoddard and I faced each other across the table in the refectory that same evening under the lights of a great candelabrum which Bates had produced from the store-room below. And I may say here, that while there was a slight hitch sometimes in the delivery of supplies from the village; while the fish which Bates caused to be shipped from Chicago for delivery every Friday morning failed once or twice, and while the grape-fruit for breakfast was not always what it should have been,the supply of candles seemed inexhaustible. They were produced in every shade and size. There were enormous ones, such as I had never seen outside of a Russian church,and one of the rooms in the cellar was filled with boxes of them. The House of a Thousand Candles deserved and proved its name.

Bates had certainly risen to the occasion. Silver and crystal of which I had not known before glistened on the table, and on the sideboard two huge candelabra added to the festival air of the little room.

Stoddard laughed as he glanced about.

Here I have been feeling sorry for you, and yet you are living like a prince. I didnt know there was so much splendor in all Wabana County.

Im a trifle dazzled myself. Bates has tapped a new cellar somewhere. Im afraid Im not a good housekeeper, to speak truthfully. There are times when I hate the house; when it seems wholly ridiculous, the whim of an eccentric old man; and then again Im actually afraid that I like its seclusion.

Your seclusion is better than mine. You know my little two-room affair behind the chapel,only a few, books and a punching bag. That chapel also is one of your grandfathers whims. He provided that all the offices of the church must be said there daily or the endowment is stopped. Mr. Glenarm lived in the past, or liked to think he did. I suppose you knowor maybe you dont knowhow I came to have this appointment?

Indeed, I should like to know.

We had reached the soup, and Bates was changing our plates with his accustomed light hand.

It was my name that did the business,Paul. A bishop had recommended a man whose given name was Ethelbert,a decent enough name and one that you might imagine would appeal to Mr. Glenarm; but he rejected him because the name might too easily be cut down to Ethel, a name which, he said, was very distasteful to him.

That is characteristic. The dear old gentleman! I exclaimed with real feeling.

But he reckoned without his host, Stoddard continued. The young ladies, I have lately learned, call me Pauline, as a mark of regard or otherwise,probably otherwise. I give two lectures a week on church history, and I fear my course isnt popular.

But it is something, on the other hand, to be in touch with such an institution. They are a very sightly company, those girls. I enjoy watching them across the garden wall. And I had a closer view of them at the station this morning, when you ran off and deserted me.

He laughed,his big wholesome cheering laugh.

I take good care not to see much of them socially.

Afraid of the eternal feminine?

Yes, I suppose I am. Im preparing to go into a Brotherhood, as you probably dont know. And girls are distracting.

I glanced at my companion with a new inquiry and interest.

I didnt know, I said.

Yes; Im spending my year in studies that I may never have a chance for hereafter. Im going into an order whose members work hard.

He spoke as though he were planning a summer outing. I had not sat at meat with a clergyman since the death of my parents broke up our old home in Vermont, and my attitude toward the cloth was, I fear, one of antagonism dating from those days.

Well, I saw Pickering after all, I remarked.

Yes, I saw him, too. What is it in his case, genius or good luck?

Im not a competent witness, I answered. Ill be frank with you: I dont like him; I dont believe in him.

Oh! I beg your pardon. I didnt know, of course.

The subject is not painful to me, I hastened to add, though he was always rather thrust before me as an ideal back in my youth, and you know how fatal that is. And then the gods of success have opened all the gates for him.

Yes,and yet

And yet I repeated. Stoddard lifted a glass of sherry to the light and studied it for a moment. He did not drink wine, but was not, I found, afraid to look at it.

And yet, he said, putting down the glass and speaking slowly, when the gates of good fortune open too readily and smoothly, they may close sometimes rather too quickly and snap a mans coat-tails. Please dont think Im going to afflict you with shavings of wisdom from the shop-floor, but life wasnt intended to be too easy. The spirit of man needs arresting and chastening. It doesnt flourish under too much fostering or too much of what we call good luck. Im disposed to be afraid of good luck.

Ive never tried it, I said laughingly.

I am not looking for it, and he spoke soberly.

I could not talk of Pickering with Batesthe masked beggar!in the room, so I changed the subject.

I suppose you impose penances, prescribe discipline for the girls at St. Agathas,an agreeable exercise of the priestly office, I should say!

His laugh was pleasant and rang true. I was liking him better the more I saw of him.

Bless you, no! I am not venerable enough. The Sisters attend to all that,and a fine company of women they are!

But there must be obstinate cases. One of the young ladies confided to meI tell you this in cloistral confidencethat she was being deported for insubordination.

Ah, that must be Olivia! Well, her case is different. She is not one girl,she is many kinds of a girl in one. I fear Sister Theresa lost her patience and hardened her heart.

I should like to intercede for Miss Armstrong, I declared.

The surprise showed in his face, and I added:

Pray dont misunderstand me. We met under rather curious circumstances, Miss Armstrong and I.

She is usually met under rather unconventional circumstances, I believe, he remarked dryly. My introduction to her came through the kitten she smuggled into the alms box of the chapel. It took me two days to find it.

He smiled ruefully at the recollection.

Shes a young woman of spirit, I declared defensively. She simply must find an outlet for the joy of youth,paddling a canoe, chasing rabbits through the snow, placing kittens in durance vile. But shes demure enough when she pleases,and a satisfaction to the eye.

My heart warmed at the memory of Olivia. Verily the chaplain was rightshe was many girls in one!

Stoddard dropped a lump of sugar into his coffee.

Miss Devereux begged hard for her, but Sister Theresa couldnt afford to keep her. Her influence on the other girls was bad.

Thats to Miss Devereuxs credit, I replied. You neednt wait, Bates.

Olivia was too popular. All the other girls indulged her. And Ill concede that shes pretty. That gipsy face of hers bodes ill to the hearts of menif she ever grows up.

I shouldnt exactly call it a gipsy face; and how much more should you expect her to grow? At twenty a womans grown, isnt she?

He looked at me quizzically.

Fifteen, you mean! Olivia Armstrongthat little witchthe kid that has kept the school in turmoil all the fall?

There was decided emphasis in his interrogations.

Im glad your glasses are full, or I should say

There was, I think, a little heat for a moment on both sides.

The wires are evidently crossed somewhere, he said calmly. My Olivia Armstrong is a droll child from Cincinnati, whose escapades caused her to be sent home for discipline to-day. Shes a little mite who just about comes to the lapel of your coat, her eyes are as black as midnight

Then she didnt talk to Pickering and his friends at the station this morningthe prettiest girl in the worldgray hat, gray coat, blue eyes? You can have your Olivia; but who, will you tell me, is mine?

I pounded with my clenched hand on the table until the candles rattled and sputtered.

Stoddard stared at me for a moment as though he thought I had lost my wits. Then he lay back in his chair and roared. I rose, bending across the table toward him in my eagerness. A suspicion had leaped into my mind, and my heart was pounding as it roused a thousand questions.

The blue-eyed young woman in gray? Bless your heart, man, Olivia is a child; I talked to her myself on the platform. You were talking to Miss Devereux. She isnt Olivia, shes Marian!

Then, who is Marian Devereuxwhere does she livewhat is she doing here?

Well, he laughed, to answer your questions in order, shes a young woman; her home is New York; she has no near kinfolk except Sister Theresa, so she spends some of her time here.

Teachesmusic

Not that I ever heard of! She does a lot of things well,takes cups in golf tournaments and is the nimblest hand at tennis you ever saw. Also, shes a fine musician and plays the organ tremendously.

Well, she told me she was Olivia! I said.

I should think she would, when you refused to meet her; when you had ignored her and Sister Theresa, both of them among your grandfathers best friends, and your nearest neighbors here!

My grandfather be hanged! Of course I couldnt know her! We cant live on the same earth. Im in her way, hanging on to this property here just to defeat her, when shes the finest girl alive!

He nodded gravely, his eyes bent upon me with sympathy and kindness. The past events at Glenarm swept through my mind in kinetoscopic flashes, but the girl in gray talking to Arthur Pickering and his friends at the Annandale station, the girl in gray who had been an eavesdropper at the chapel,the girl in gray with the eyes of blue! It seemed that a year passed before I broke the silence.

Where has she gone? I demanded.

He smiled, and I was cheered by the mirth that showed in his face.

Why, shes gone to Cincinnati, with Olivia Gladys Armstrong, he said. Theyre great chums, you know!



CHAPTER XVII

SISTER THERESA

There was further information I wished to obtain, and I did not blush to pluck it from Stoddard before I let him go that night. Olivia Gladys Armstrong lived in Cincinnati; her father was a wealthy physician at Walnut Hills. Stoddard knew the family, and I asked questions about them, their antecedents and place of residence that were not perhaps impertinent in view of the fact that I had never consciously set eyes on their daughter in my life. As I look back upon it now my information secured at that time, touching the history and social position of the Armstrongs of Walnut Hills, Cincinnati, seems excessive, but the curiosity which the Reverend Paul Stoddard satisfied with so little trouble to himself was of immediate interest and importance. As to the girl in gray I found him far more difficult. She was Marian Devereux; she was a niece of Sister Theresa; her home was in New York, with another aunt, her parents being dead; and she was a frequent visitor at St. Agathas.

The wayward Olivia and she were on excellent terms, and when it seemed wisest for that vivacious youngster to retire from school at the mid-year recess Miss Devereux had accompanied her home, ostensibly for a visit, but really to break the force of the blow. It was a pretty story, and enhanced my already high opinion of Miss Devereux, while at the same time I admired the unknown Olivia Gladys none the less.

When Stoddard left me I dug out of a drawer my copy of John Marshall Glenarms will and re-read it for the first time since Pickering gave it to me in New York. There was one provision to which I had not given a single thought, and when I had smoothed the thin type-written sheets upon the table in my room I read it over and over again, construing it in a new light with every reading.

Provided, further, that in the event of the marriage of said John Glenarm to the said Marian Devereux, or in the event of any promise or contract of marriage between said persons within five years from the date of said John Glenarms acceptance of the provisions of this will, the whole estate shall become the property absolutely of St. Agathas School at Annandale, Wabana County, Indiana, a corporation under the laws of said state.

Bully for the old boy! I muttered finally, folding the copy with something akin to reverence for my grandfathers shrewdness in closing so many doors upon his heirs. It required no lawyer to interpret this paragraph. If I could not secure his estate by settling at Glenarm for a year I was not to gain it by marrying the alternative heir. Here, clearly, was not one of those situations so often contrived by novelists, in which the luckless heir presumptive, cut off without a cent, weds the pretty cousin who gets the fortune and they live happily together ever afterward. John Marshall Glenarm had explicitly provided against any such frustration of his plans.

Bully for you, John Marshall Glenarm! I rose and bowed low to his photograph.

On top of my mail next morning lay a small envelope, unstamped, and addressed to me in a free running hand.

Ferguson left it, explained Bates.

I opened and read:

If convenient will Mr. Glenarm kindly look in at St. Agathas some day this week at four oclock. Sister Theresa wishes to see him.

I whistled softly. My feelings toward Sister Theresa had been those of utter repugnance and antagonism. I had been avoiding her studiously and was not a little surprised that she should seek an interview with me. Quite possibly she wished to inquire how soon I expected to abandon Glenarm House; or perhaps she wished to admonish me as to the perils of my soul. In any event I liked the quality of her note, and I was curious to know why she sent for me; moreover, Marian Devereux was her niece and that was wholly in the Sisters favor.

At four oclock I passed into St. Agatha territory and rang the bell at the door of the building where I had left Olivia the evening I found her in the chapel. A Sister admitted me, led the way to a small reception-room where, I imagined, the visiting parent was received, and left me. I felt a good deal like a school-boy who has been summoned before a severe master for discipline. I was idly beating my hat with my gloves when a quick step sounded in the hall and instantly a brown-clad figure appeared in the doorway.

Mr. Glenarm?

It was a deep, rich voice, a voice of assurance, a voice, may I say? of the world,a voice, too, may I add? of a woman who is likely to say what she means without ado. The white band at her forehead brought into relief two wonderful gray eyes that were alight with kindliness. She surveyed me a moment, then her lips parted in a smile.

This room is rather forbidding; if you will come with me

She turned with an air of authority that was a part of her undeniable distinction, and I was seated a moment later in a pretty sitting-room, whose windows gave a view of the dark wood and frozen lake beyond.

Im afraid, Mr. Glenarm, that you are not disposed to be neighborly, and you must pardon me if I seem to be pursuing you.

Her smile, her voice, her manner were charming. I had pictured her a sour old woman, who had hidden away from a world that had offered her no pleasure.

The apologies must all be on my side, Sister Theresa. I have been greatly occupied since coming here, distressed and perplexed even.

Our young ladies treasure the illusion that there are ghosts at your house she said, with a smile that disposed of the matter.

She folded her slim white hands on her knees and spoke with a simple directness.

Mr. Glenarm, there is something I wish to say to you, but I can say it only if we are to be friends. I have feared you might look upon us here as enemies.

That is a strong word, I replied evasively.

Let me say to you that I hope very much that nothing will prevent your inheriting all that Mr. Glenarm wished you to have from him.

Thank you; that is both kind and generous, I said with no little surprise.

Not in the least. I should be disloyal to your grandfather, who was my friend and the friend of my family, if I did not feel kindly toward you and wish you well. And I must say for my niece

Miss Devereux. I found a certain pleasure in pronouncing her name.

Miss Devereux is very greatly disturbed over the good intentions of your grandfather in placing her name in his will. You can doubtless understand how uncomfortable a person of any sensibility would be under the circumstances. Im sorry you have never met her. She is a very charming young woman whose happiness does not, I may say, depend on other peoples money.

She had never told, then! I smiled at the recollection of our interviews.

I am sure that is true, Sister Theresa.

Now I wish to speak to you about a matter of some delicacy. It is, I understand perfectly, no business of mine how much of a fortune Mr. Glenarm left. But this matter has been brought to my attention in a disagreeable way. Your grandfather established this school; he gave most of the money for these buildings. I had other friends who offered to contribute, but he insisted on doing it all. But now Mr. Pickering insists that the moneyor part of it at leastwas only a loan.

Yes; I understand.

Mr. Pickering tells me that he has no alternative in the matter; that the law requires him to collect this money as a debt due the estate.

That is undoubtedly true, as a general proposition. He told me in New York that he had a claim against you for fifty thousand dollars.

Yes; that is the amount. I wish to say to you, Mr. Glenarm, that if it is necessary I can pay that amount.

Pray do not trouble about it, Sister Theresa. There are a good many things about my grandfathers affairs that I dont understand, but Im not going to see an old friend of his swindled. Theres more in all this than appears. My grandfather seems to have mislaid or lost most of his assets before he died. And yet he had the reputation of being a pretty cautious business man.

The impression is abroad, as you must know, that your grandfather concealed his fortune before his death. The people hereabouts believe so; and Mr. Pickering, the executor, has been unable to trace it.

Yes, I believe Mr. Pickering has not been able to solve the problem, I said and laughed.

But, of course, you and he will coöperate in an effort to find the lost property.

She bent forward slightly; her eyes, as they met mine, examined me with a keen interest.

Why shouldnt I be frank with you, Sister Theresa? I have every reason for believing Arthur Pickering a scoundrel. He does not care to coöperate with me in searching for this money. The fact is that he very much wishes to eliminate me as a factor in the settlement of the estate. I speak carefully; I know exactly what I am saying.

She bowed her head slightly and was silent for a moment. The silence was the more marked from the fact that the hood of her habit concealed her face.

What you say is very serious.

Yes, and his offense is equally serious. It may seem odd for me to be saying this to you when I am a stranger; when you may be pardoned for having no very high opinion of me.

She turned her face to me,it was singularly gentle and refined,not a face to associate with an idea of self-seeking or duplicity.

I sent for you, Mr. Glenarm, because I had a very good opinion of you; because, for one reason, you are the grandson of your grandfather,and the friendly light in her gray eyes drove away any lingering doubt I may have had as to her sincerity. I wished to warn you to have a care for your own safety. I dont warn you against Arthur Pickering alone, but against the countryside. The idea of a hidden fortune is alluring; a mysterious house and a lost treasure make a very enticing combination. I fancy Mr. Glenarm did not realize that he was creating dangers for the people he wished to help.

She was silent again, her eyes bent meditatively upon me; then she spoke abruptly.

Mr. Pickering wishes to marry my niece.

Ah! I have been waiting to hear that. I am exceedingly glad to know that he has so noble an ambition. But Miss Devereux isnt encouraging him, as near as I can make out. She refused to go to California with his partyI happen to know that.

That whole California episode would have been amusing if it had not been ridiculous. Marian never had the slightest idea of going with him; but she is sometimes a littleshall I say perverse?

Please do! I like the wordand the quality!

and Mr. Pickerings rather elaborate methods of wooing

Hes as heavy as lead! I declared.

amuse Marian up to a certain point; then they annoy her. He has implied pretty strongly that the claim against me could be easily adjusted if Marian marries him. But she will never marry him, whether she benefits by your grandfathers will or however that may be!

I should say not, I declared with a warmth that caused Sister Theresa to sweep me warily with those wonderful gray eyes. But first he expects to find this fortune and endow Miss Devereux with it. That is a part of the scheme. And my own interest in the estate must be eliminated before he can bring that condition about. But, Sister Theresa, I am not so easily got rid of as Arthur Pickering imagines. My staying qualities, which were always weak in the eyes of my family, have been braced up a trifle.

Yes. I thought pleasure and hope were expressed in the monosyllable, and my heart warmed to her.

Sister Theresa, you and I are understanding each other much better than I imagined we should,and we both laughed, feeling a real sympathy growing between us.

Yes; I believe we are,and the smile lighted her face again.

So I can tell you two things. The first is that Arthur Pickering will never find my grandfathers lost fortune, assuming that any exists. The second is that in no event will he marry your niece.

You speak with a good deal of confidence, she said, and laughed a low murmuring laugh. I thought there was relief in it. But I didnt suppose Marians affairs interested you.

They dont, Sister Theresa. Her affairs are not of the slightest importance,but she is!

There was frank inquiry in her eyes now.

But you dont know her,you have missed your opportunity.

To be sure, I dont know her; but I know Olivia Gladys Armstrong. Shes a particular friend of mine, we have chased rabbits together, and she told me a great deal. I have formed a very good opinion of Miss Devereux in that way. Oh, that note you wrote about Olivias intrusions beyond the wall! I should thank you for it,but I really didnt mind.

A note? I never wrote you a note until to-day!

Well, some one did! I said; then she smiled.

Oh, that must have been Marian. She was always Olivias loyal friend!

I should say so!

Sister Theresa laughed merrily.

But you shouldnt have known Olivia,it is unpardonable! If she played tricks upon you, you should not have taken advantage of them to make her acquaintance. That wasnt fair to me!

I suppose not! But I protest against this deportation. The landscape hereabouts is only so much sky, snow and lumber without her.

We miss her, too, replied Sister Theresa. We have less to do!

And still I protest! I declared, rising. Sister Theresa, I thank you with all my heart for what you have said to me,for the disposition to say it! And this debt to the estate is something, I promise you, that shall not trouble you.

Then theres a truce between us! We are not enemies at all now, are we?

No; for Olivias sake, at least, we shall be friends.

I went home and studied the time-table.



CHAPTER XVIII

GOLDEN BUTTERFLIES

If you are one of those captious people who must verify by the calendar every new moon you read of in a book, and if you are pained to discover the historian lifting anchor and spreading sail contrary to the reckonings of the nautical almanac, I beg to call your attention to these items from the time-table of the Mid-Western and Southern Railway for December, 1901.

The south-bound express passed Annandale at exactly fifty-three minutes after four P. M. It was scheduled to reach Cincinnati at eleven oclock sharp. These items are, I trust, sufficiently explicit.

To the student of morals and motives I will say a further word. I had resolved to practise deception in running away from Glenarm House to keep my promise to Marian Devereux. By leaving I should forfeit my right to any part of my grandfathers estate; I knew that and accepted the issue without regret; but I had no intention of surrendering Glenarm House to Arthur Pickering, particularly now that I realized how completely I had placed myself in his trap. I felt, moreover, a duty to my dead grandfather; andnot leastthe attacks of Morgan and the strange ways of Bates had stirred whatever fighting blood there was in me. Pickering and I were engaged in a sharp contest, and I was beginning to enjoy it to the full, but I did not falter in my determination to visit Cincinnati, hoping to return without my absence being discovered; so the next afternoon I began preparing for my journey.

Bates, I fear that Im taking a severe cold and Im going to dose myself with whisky and quinine and go to bed. I shant want any dinner,nothing until you see me again.

I yawned and stretched myself with a groan.

Im very sorry, sir. Shant I call a doctor?

Not a bit of it. Ill sleep it off and be as lively as a cricket in the morning.

At four oclock I told him to carry some hot water and lemons to my room; bade him an emphatic good night and locked the door as he left. Then I packed my evening clothes in a suit-case. I threw the bag and a heavy ulster from a window, swung myself out upon the limb of a big maple and let it bend under me to its sharpest curve and then dropped lightly to the ground.

I passed the gate and struck off toward the village with a joyful sense of freedom. When I reached the station I sought at once the south-bound platform, not wishing to be seen buying a ticket. A few other passengers were assembling, but I saw no one I recognized. Number six, I heard the agent say, was on time; and in a few minutes it came roaring up. I bought a seat in the Washington sleeper and went into the dining-car for supper. The train was full of people hurrying to various ports for the holidays, but they had, I reflected, no advantage over me. I, too, was bound on a definite errand, though my journey was, I imagined, less commonplace in its character than the homing flight of most of my fellow travelers.

I made myself comfortable and dozed and dreamed as the train plunged through the dark. There was a wait, with much shifting of cars, where we crossed the Wabash, then we sped on. It grew warmer as we drew southward, and the conductor was confident we should reach Cincinnati on time. The through passengers about me went to bed, and I was left sprawled out in my open section, lurking on the shadowy frontier between the known world and dreamland.

Were running into Cincinnatiten minutes late, said the porters voice; and in a moment I was in the vestibule and out, hurrying to a hotel. At the St. Botolph I ordered a carriage and broke all records changing my clothes. The time-table informed me that the Northern express left at half-past one. There was no reason why I should not be safe at Glenarm House by my usual breakfast hour if all went well. To avoid loss of time in returning to the station I paid the hotel charge and carried my bag away with me.

Doctor Armstrongs residence? Yes, sir; Ive already taken one load there

The carriage was soon climbing what seemed to be a mountain to the heights above Cincinnati. To this day I associate Ohios most interesting city with a lonely carriage ride that seemed to be chiefly uphill, through a region that was as strange to me as a trackless jungle in the wilds of Africa. And my heart began to perform strange tattoos on my ribs I was going to the house of a gentleman who did not know of my existence, to see a girl who was his guest, to whom I had never, as the conventions go, been presented. It did not seem half so easy, now that I was well launched upon the adventure.

I stopped the cabman just as he was about to enter an iron gateway whose posts bore two great lamps.

That is all right, sir. I can drive right in.

But you neednt, I said, jumping out. Wait here.

Doctor Armstrongs residence was brilliantly lighted, and the strains of a waltz stole across the lawn cheerily. Several carriages swept past me as I followed the walk. I was arriving at a fashionable hourit was nearly twelveand just how to effect an entrance without being thrown out as an interloper was a formidable problem, now that I had reached the house. I must catch my train home, and this left no margin for explanation to an outraged host whose first impulse would very likely be to turn me over to the police.

I made a detour and studied the house, seeking a door by which I could enter without passing the unfriendly Gibraltar of a host and hostess on guard to welcome belated guests.

A long conservatory filled with tropical plants gave me my opportunity. Promenaders went idly through and out into another part of the house by an exit I could not see. A handsome, spectacled gentleman opened a glass door within a yard of where I stood, sniffed the air, and said to his companion, as he turned back with a shrug into the conservatory:

Theres no sign of snow. It isnt Christmas weather at all.

He strolled away through the palms, and I instantly threw off my ulster and hat, cast them behind some bushes, and boldly opened the door and entered.

The ball-room was on the third floor, but the guests were straggling down to supper, and I took my stand at the foot of the broad stairway and glanced up carelessly, as though waiting for some one. It was a large and brilliant company and many a lovely face passed me as I stood waiting. The very size of the gathering gave me security, and I smoothed my gloves complacently.

The spectacled gentleman whose breath of night air had given me a valued hint of the open conservatory door came now and stood beside me. He even put his hand on my arm with intimate friendliness.

There was a sound of mirth and scampering feet in the hall above and then down the steps, between the lines of guests arrested in their descent, came a dark laughing girl in the garb of Little Red Riding Hood, amid general applause and laughter.

Its Olivia! Shes won the wager! exclaimed the spectacled gentleman, and the girl, whose dark curls were shaken about her face, ran up to us and threw her arms about him and kissed him. It was a charming picture,the figures on the stairway, the pretty graceful child, the eager, happy faces all about. I was too much interested by this scene of the comedy to be uncomfortable.

Then, at the top of the stair, her height accented by her gown of white, stood Marian Devereux, hesitating an instant, as a bird pauses before taking wing, and then laughingly running between the lines to where Olivia faced her in mock abjection. To the charm of the girl in the woodland was added now the dignity of beautiful womanhood, and my heart leaped at the thought that I had ever spoken to her, that I was there because she had taunted me with the risk of coming.



Above, on the stair landing, a deep-toned clock began to strike midnight and every one cried Merry Christmas! and Olivias won! and there was more hand-clapping, in which I joined with good will.

Some one behind me was explaining what had just occurred. Olivia, the youngest daughter of the house, had been denied a glimpse of the ball; Miss Devereux had made a wager with her host that Olivia would appear before midnight; and Olivia had defeated the plot against her, and gained the main hall at the stroke of Christmas.

Good night! Good night! called Oliviathe real Oliviain derision to the company, and turned and ran back through the applauding, laughing throng.

The spectacled gentleman was Olivias father, and he mockingly rebuked Marian Devereux for having encouraged an infraction of parental discipline, while she was twitting him upon the loss of his wager. Then her eyes rested upon me for the first time. She smiled slightly, but continued talking placidly to her host. The situation did not please me; I had not traveled so far and burglariously entered Doctor Armstrongs house in quest of a girl with blue eyes merely to stand by while she talked to another man.

I drew nearer, impatiently; and was conscious that four other young men in white waistcoats and gloves quite as irreproachable as my own stood ready to claim her the instant she was free. I did not propose to be thwarted by the beaux of Cincinnati, so I stepped toward Doctor Armstrong.

I beg your pardon, Doctor, I said with an assurance for which I blush to this hour.

All right, my boy; I, too, have been in Arcady! he exclaimed in cheerful apology, and she put her hand on my arm and I led her away.

He called me my boy, so I must be passing muster, I remarked, not daring to look at her.

Hes afraid not to recognize you. His inability to remember faces is a town joke.

We reached a quiet corner of the great hall and I found a seat for her.

You dont seem surprised to see me,you knew I would come. I should have come across the world for this,for just this.

Her eyes were grave at once.

Why did you come? I did not think you were so foolish. This is allso wretched,so unfortunate. You didnt know that Mr. PickeringMr. Pickering

She was greatly distressed and this name came from her chokingly.

Yes; what of him? I laughed. He is well on his way to California,and without you!

She spoke hurriedly, eagerly, bending toward me.

Noyou dont knowyou dont understandhes here; he abandoned his California trip at Chicago; he telegraphed me to expect himhereto-night! You must go at once,at once!

Ah, but you cant frighten me, I said, trying to realize just what a meeting with Pickering in that house might mean.

No,she looked anxiously about,they were to arrive late, he and the Taylors; they know the Armstrongs quite well. They may come at any moment now. Please go!

But I have only a few minutes myself,you wouldnt have me sit them out in the station down town? There are some things I have come to say, and Arthur Pickering and I are not afraid of each other!

But you must not meet him here! Think what that would mean to me! You are very foolhardy, Mr. Glenarm. I had no idea you would come

But you wished to try me,you challenged me.

That wasnt me,it was Olivia, she laughed, more at ease, I thought

Yes, what did you think? I asked. That I was tied hand and foot by a dead mans money?

No, it wasnt that wretched fortune; but I enjoyed playing the child before youI really love Oliviaand it seemed that the fairies were protecting me and that I could play being a child to the very end of the chapter without any real mischief coming of it. I wish I were Olivia! she declared, her eyes away from me.

Thats rather idle. Im not really sure yet what your name is, and I dont care. Lets imagine that we havent any names,Im sure my name isnt of any use, and Ill be glad to go nameless all my days if only

If only she repeated idly, opening and closing her fan. It was a frail blue trifle, painted in golden butterflies.

There are so many if onlies that I hesitate to choose; but I will venture one. If only you will come back to St. Agathas! Not to-morrow, or the next day, but, say, with the first bluebirds. I believe they are the harbingers up there.

Her very ease was a balm to my spirit; she was now a veritable daughter of repose. One arm in its long white sheath lay quiet in her lap; her right hand held the golden butterflies against the soft curve of her cheek. A collar of pearls clasped her throat and accented the clear girlish lines of her profile. I felt the appeal of her youth and purity. It was like a cry in my heart, and I forgot the dreary house by the lake, and Pickering and the weeks within the stone walls of my prison.

The friends who know me best never expect me to promise to be anywhere at a given time. I cant tell; perhaps I shall follow the bluebirds to Indiana; but why should I, when I cant play being Olivia any more?

No! I am very dull. That note of apology you wrote from the school really fooled me. But I have seen the real Olivia now. I dont want you to go too farnot where I cant followthis flight I shall hardly dare repeat.

Her lips closedlike a rose that had gone back to be a bud againand she pondered a moment, slowly freeing and imprisoning the golden butterflies.

You have risked a fortune, Mr. Glenarm, very, very foolishly,and moreif you are found here. Why, Olivia must have recognized you! She must have seen you often across the wall.

But I dont careIm not staying at that ruin up there for money. My grandfather meant more to me than that

Yes; I believe that is so. He was a dear old gentleman; and he liked me because I thought his jokes adorable. My father and he had known each other. But there wasno expectationno wish to profit by his friendship. My name in his will is a great embarrassment, a source of real annoyance. The newspapers have printed dreadful pictures of me. That is why I say to you, quite frankly, that I wouldnt accept a cent of Mr. Glenarms money if it were offered me; and that is why,and her smile was a flash of spring,I want you to obey the terms of the will and earn your fortune.

She closed the fan sharply and lifted her eyes to mine.

But there isnt any fortune! Its all a myth, a joke, I declared.

Mr. Pickering doesnt seem to think so. He had every reason for believing that Mr. Glenarm was a very rich man. The property cant be found in the usual places,banks, safety vaults, and the like. Then where do you think it is,or better, where do you think Mr. Pickering thinks it is?

But assuming that its buried up there by the lake like a pirates treasure, it isnt Pickerings if he finds it. There are laws to protect even the dead from robbery! I concluded hotly.

How difficult you are! Suppose you should fall from a boat, or be shotaccidentallythen I might have to take the fortune after all; and Mr. Pickering might think of an easier way of getting it than by

Stealing it! Yes, but you wouldnt!

Half-past twelve struck on the stairway and I started to my feet.

You wouldnt I repeated.

I might, you know!

I must go,but not with that, not with any hint of that,please!

If you let him defeat you, if you fail to spend your year there,well overlook this one lapse,she looked me steadily in the eyes, wholly guiltless of coquetry but infinitely kind,then,

She paused, opened the fan, held it up to the light and studied the golden butterflies.

Yes

Thenlet me seeoh, I shall never chase another rabbit as long as I live! Now goquicklyquickly!

But you havent told me when and where it was we met the first time. Please!

She laughed, but urged me away with her eyes.

I shant do it! It isnt proper for me to remember, if your memory is so poor. I wonder how it would seem for us to meet just onceand be introduced! Good night! You really came. You are a gentleman of your word, Squire Glenarm!

She gave me the tips of her fingers without looking at me.

A servant came in hurriedly.

Miss Devereux, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Pickering are in the drawing-room.

Yes; very well; I will come at once.

Then to me:

They must not see youthere, that way! and she stood in the door, facing me, her hands lightly touching the frame as though to secure my way.

I turned for a last look and saw her waitingher eyes bent gravely upon me, her arms still half-raised, barring the door; then she turned swiftly away into the hall.

Outside I found my hat and coat, and wakened my sleeping driver. He drove like mad into the city, and I swung upon the north-bound sleeper just as it was drawing out of the station.



CHAPTER XIX

I MEET AN OLD FRIEND

When I reached the house I found, to my astonishment, that the window I had left open as I scrambled out the night before was closed. I dropped my bag and crept to the front door, thinking that if Bates had discovered my absence it was useless to attempt any further deception. I was amazed to find the great doors of the main entrance flung wide, and in real alarm I ran through the hall and back to the library.

The nearest door stood open, and, as I peered in, a curious scene disclosed itself. A few of the large cathedral candles still burned brightly in several places, their flame rising strangely in the gray morning light. Books had been taken from the shelves and scattered everywhere, and sharp implements had cut ugly gashes in the shelving. The drawers containing sketches and photographs had been pulled out and their contents thrown about and trampled under foot.

The house was as silent as a tomb, but as I stood on the threshold trying to realize what had happened, something stirred by the fireplace and I crept forward, listening, until I stood by the long table beneath the great chandelier. Again I heard a sound as of some animal waking and stretching, followed by a moan that was undoubtedly human. Then the hands of a man clutched the farther edge of the table, and slowly and evidently with infinite difficulty a figure rose and the dark face of Bates, with eyes blurred and staring strangely, confronted me.

He drew his body to its height, and leaned heavily upon the table. I snatched a candle and bent toward him to make sure my eyes were not tricking me.

Mr. Glenarm! Mr. Glenarm! he exclaimed in broken whispers. It is Bates, sir.

What have you done; what has happened? I demanded.

He put his hand to his head uncertainly and gaped as though trying to gather his wits.

He was evidently dazed by whatever had occurred, and I sprang around and helped him to a couch. He would not lie down but sat up, staring and passing his hand over his head. It was rapidly growing lighter, and I saw a purple and black streak across his temple where a bludgeon of some sort had struck him.

What does this mean, Bates? Who has been in the house?

I cant tell you, Mr. Glenarm.

Cant tell me! You will tell me or go to jail! Theres been mischief done here and I dont intend to have any nonsense about it from you. Well?

He was clearly suffering, but in my anger at the sight of the wreck of the room I grasped his shoulder and shook him roughly.

It was early this morning, he faltered, about two oclock, I heard noises in the lower part of the house. I came down thinking likely it was you, and remembering that you had been sick yesterday

Yes, go on.

The thought of my truancy was no balm to my conscience just then.

As I came into the hall, I saw lights in the library. As you werent down last night the room hadnt been lighted at all. I heard steps, and some one tapping with a hammer

Yes; a hammer. Go on!

It was, then, the same old story! The war had been carried openly into the house, but Bates,just why should any one connected with the conspiracy injure Bates, who stood so near to Pickering, its leader? The fellow was undoubtedly hurt,there was no mistaking the lump on his head. He spoke with a painful difficulty that was not assumed, I felt increasingly sure, as he went on.

I saw a man pulling out the books and tapping the inside of the shelves. He was working very fast. And the next thing I knew he let in another man through one of the terrace doors,the one there that still stands a little open.

He flinched as be turned slightly to indicate it, and his face twitched with pain.

Never mind that; tell the rest of your story.

Then I ran in, grabbed one of the big candelabra from the table, and went for the nearest man. They were about to begin on the chimney-breast there,it was Mr. Glenarms pride in all the house,and that accounts for my being there in front of the fireplace. They rather got the best of me, sir.

Clearly; I see they did. You had a hand-to-hand fight with them, and being two to one

No; there were two of us,dont you understand, two of us! There was another man who came running in from somewhere, and he took sides with me. I thought at first it was you. The robbers thought so, too, for one of them yelled, Great God; its Glenarm! just like that. But it wasnt you, but quite another person.

Thats a good story so far; and then what happened?

I dont remember much more, except that some one soused me with water that helped my head considerably, and the next thing I knew I was staring across the table there at you.

Who were these men, Bates? Speak up quickly!

My tone was peremptory. Here was, I felt, a crucial moment in our relations.

Well, he began deliberately, I dislike to make charges against a fellow man, but I strongly suspect one of the men of being

Yes! Tell the whole truth or it will be the worse for you.

I very much fear one of them was Ferguson, the gardener over the way. Im disappointed in him, sir.

Very good; and now for the other one.

I didnt get my eyes on him. I had closed with Ferguson and we were having quite a lively time of it when the other one came in; then the man who came to my help mixed us all up,he was a very lively person, and what became of Ferguson and the rest of it I dont know.

There was food for thought in what he said. He had taken punishment in defense of my propertythe crack on his head was undeniableand I could not abuse him or question his veracity with any grace; not, at least, without time for investigation and study. However, I ventured to ask him one question.

If you were guessing, shouldnt you think it quite likely that Morgan was the other man?

He met my gaze squarely.

I think it wholly possible, Mr. Glenarm.

And the man who helped youwho in the devil was he?

Bless me, I dont know. He disappeared. Id like mightily to see him again.

Humph! Now youd better do something for your head. Ill summon the village doctor if you say so.

No; thank you, sir. Ill take care of it myself.

And now well keep quiet about this. Dont mention it or discuss it with any one.

Certainly not, sir.

He rose, and staggered a little, but crossed to the broad mantel-shelf in the great chimney-breast, rested his arm upon it for a moment, passed his hand over the dark wood with a sort of caress, then bent his eyes upon the floor littered with books and drawings and papers torn from the cabinets and all splashed with tallow and wax from the candles. The daylight had increased until the havoc wrought by the nights visitors was fully apparent. The marauders had made a sorry mess of the room, and I thought Bates lip quivered as he saw the wreck.

It would have been a blow to Mr. Glenarm; the room was his pride,his pride, sir.

He went out toward the kitchen, and I ran up stairs to my own room. I cursed the folly that had led me to leave my window open, for undoubtedly Morgan and his new ally, St. Agathas gardener, had taken advantage of it to enter the house. Quite likely, too, they had observed my absence, and this would undoubtedly be communicated to Pickering. I threw open my door and started back with an exclamation of amazement.

Standing at my chiffonnier, between two windows, was a man, clad in a bath-gownmy own, I saw with furyhis back to me, the razor at his face, placidly shaving himself.

Without turning he addressed me, quite coolly and casually, as though his being there was the most natural thing in the world.

Good morning, Mr. Glenarm! Rather damaging evidence, that costume. I suppose its the custom of the country for gentlemen in evening clothes to go out by the window and return by the door. You might think the other way round preferable.

Larry! I shouted.

Jack!

Kick that door shut and lock it, he commanded, in a sharp, severe tone that I remembered welland just now welcomedin him.

How, why and when?

Never mind about me. Im herethrown the enemy off for a few days; and you give me lessons in current history first, while I climb into my armor. Pray pardon the informality

He seized a broom and began work upon a pair of trousers to which mud and briers clung tenaciously. His coat and hat lay on a chair, they, too, much the worse for rough wear.