“How large is it?” I asked, quite as breathless as herself, as I realized the possibilities underlying this remarkable request.
“It is so small that you can conceal it under an apron or in the pocket of your coat. In exchange for it, I will give you all I can afford—ten dollars.”
“No more than that?” I asked, testing her.
“No more at first. Afterward—if it brings me what it ought to, I will give you whatever you think it is worth. Does that satisfy you? Are you willing to risk an encounter with the ghost, for just ten dollars and a promise?”
The smile with which she said this was indescribable. I think it gave me a more thrilling consciousness of human terror in face of the supernatural than anything which I had yet heard in this connection. Surely her motive for remaining in the haunted house had been extraordinarily strong.
“You are afraid,” she declared. “You will shrink, when the time comes, from going into that cellar at night.”
I shook my head; I had already regained both my will-power and the resolution to carry out this adventure to the end.
“I will go,” said I.
“And get me my box?”
“Yes!”
“And bring it to me here as early the next day as you can leave Mrs. Packard?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, you don’t know what this means to me.”
I had a suspicion, but held my peace and let her rhapsodize.
“No one in all my life has ever shown me so much kindness! Are you sure you won’t be tempted to tell any one what you mean to do?”
“Quite sure.”
“And will go down into the cellar and get this box for me, all by yourself?”
“Yes, if you demand it.”
“I do; you will see why some day.”
“Very well, you can trust me. Now tell me where I am to find the brick you designate.”
“It’s in the cellar wall, about half-way down on the right-hand side. You will see nothing but stone for a foot or two above the floor, but after that comes the brick wall. On one of these bricks you will detect a cross scratched. That’s the one. It will look as well cemented as the rest, but if you throw water against it, you will find that in a little while you will be able to pry it out. Take something to do this with, a knife or a pair of scissors. When the brick falls out, feel behind with your hand and you will find the box.”
“A questionable task. What if I should be seen at it?”
“The ghost will protect you!”
Again that smile of mingled sarcasm and innuendo. It was no common servant girl’s smile, any more than her language was that of the ignorant domestic.
“I believe the ghost fails to walk since the present tenants came into the house,” I remarked.
“But its reputation remains; you’ll not be disturbed.”
“Possibly not; a good reason why you might safely undertake the business yourself. I can find some way of letting you in.”
“No, no. I shall never again cross that threshold!” Her whole attitude showed revolt and bitter determination.
“Yet you have never been frightened by anything there?”
“I know; but I have suffered; that is, for one who has no feelings. The box will have to remain in its place undisturbed if you won’t get it for me.”
“Positively?”
“Yes, Miss; nothing would induce me even to cross the street. But I want the box.”
“You shall have it,” said I.
CHAPTER XII. SEARCHINGS
I seemed bound to be the prey of a divided duty. As I crossed the street, I asked myself which of the two experiments I had in mind should occupy my attention first. Should I proceed at once with that close study and detailed examination of the house, which I contemplated in my eagerness to establish my theory of a secret passage between it and the one now inhabited by the Misses Quinlan, or should I wait to do this until I had recovered the box, which might hold still greater secrets?
I could not decide, so I resolved to be guided by circumstances. If Mrs. Packard were still out, I did not think I could sit down till I had a complete plan of the house as a start in the inquiry which interested me most.
Mrs. Packard was still out,—so much Nixon deigned to tell me in answer to my question. Whether the fact displeased him or not I could not say, but he was looking very sour and seemed to resent the trouble he had been to in opening the door for me. Should I notice this, even by an attempt to conciliate him? I decided not. A natural manner was best; he was too keen not to notice and give his own interpretation to uncalled for smiles or words which contrasted too strongly with his own marked reticence. I therefore said nothing as he pottered slowly back into his own quarters in the rear, but lingered about down-stairs till I was quite sure he was out of sight and hearing. Then I came back and took up my point of view on the spot where the big hall clock had stood in the days of Mr. Dennison. Later, I made a drawing of this floor as it must have looked at that time. You will find it on the opposite page.
[transcriber’s note: The plan shows the house to have two rows of rooms with a hall between. In the front each room ends in a bow window. On the right the drawing-room has two doors opening into the hall, equally spaced near the front and rear of the room. Across the hall are two rooms of apparently equal size; a reception room in front and the library behind it, both rooms having windows facing on the alley. There is a stairway in the hall just behind the door to the reception room. The study is behind the drawing-room.
Opposite this is a side hall and the dining-room. The library and dining-room both open off this hall with the dining room also having doors to the main hall and kitchen. The side hall ends with a stoop in the alley. A small room labeled kitchen, etc. lies behind the dining-room and the hall extends beyond the study beside the kitchen with the cellar stairs on the kitchen side. There is a small rectangle in the hall about two-thirds of the way down the side of the drawing-room which is labeled A.]
Near the place where I stood [marked A on the plan], had occurred most of the phenomena, which could be located at all. Here the spectral hand had been seen stopping the clock. Here the shape had passed encountered by Mr. Weston’s cook, and just a few steps beyond where the library door opened under the stairs Mr. Searles had seen the flitting figure which had shut his mouth on the subject of his tenants’ universal folly. From the front then toward the back these manifestations had invariably peeped to disappear—where? That was what I was to determine; what I am sure Mayor Packard would wish me to determine if he knew the whole situation as I knew it from his wife’s story and the record I had just read at the agent’s office.
Alas! there were many points of exit from this portion of the hall. The drawing-room opened near; so did Mayor Packard’s study; then there was the kitchen with its various offices, ending as I knew in the cellar stairs. Nearer I could see the door leading into the dining-room and, opening closer yet, the short side hall running down to what had once been the shallow vestibule of a small side entrance, but which, as I had noted many times in passing to and from the dining-room, was now used as a recess or alcove to hold a cabinet of Indian curios. In which of these directions should I carry my inquiry? All looked equally unpromising, unless it was Mayor Packard’s study, and that no one with the exception of Mr. Steele ever entered save by his invitation, not even his wife. I could not hope to cross that threshold, nor did I greatly desire to invade the kitchen, especially while Nixon was there. Should I have to wait till the mayor’s return for the cooperation my task certainly demanded? It looked that way. But before yielding to the discouragement following this thought, I glanced about me again and suddenly remembered, first the creaking board, which had once answered to the so-called spirit’s flight, and secondly the fact which common sense should have suggested before, that if my theory were true and the secret presence, whose coming and going I had been considering, had fled by some secret passage leading to the neighboring house, then by all laws of convenience and natural propriety that passage should open from the side facing the Quinlan domicile, and not from that holding Mayor Packard’s study and the remote drawing-room.