Daphne Deane (19 page)

"Oh, but it makes me so ashamed, Donald," said Daphne almost ready to cry and putting her cold hands on her hot cheeks.

"Ashamed? My word! What've you got ta be ashamed about, I should liketa know?"

"Why, me, daring to speak out against something that an ordained minister says!"

"Ordained minister, my eye!" sneered Donald. "Who ordained him? Just men! And what did they ordain him for, I'd liketa know? A man that would talk the way he did! What would old Dr. Shaw say if he heard? Why, Daffy, d'you realize what he said? He actually said he thought better things of you than that you should be satisfied with the Lord! That's practically what he said. Yes, he did! I'll tell ya what I think, and I'll bet a hat I'm right. I don't think that man ever knew the Lord himself, or he couldn't talk such fool nonsense."

And the minister walking away by himself, somewhat baffled but not discouraged, was thinking to himself:
That girl has a fine mind! A little careful instruction will make her into a fine woman. What eyes she has. She would be a beauty if she were fixed up a little. Not much. It isn't her type. Just a touch of blush, a mere suggestion of lipstick, shadows under those eyes, and she would be magnificent! I must see what I can do for her. I must order my sermons so that they will unconsciously mold her thinking. It may even be that my message this morning stirred her to this antagonism by its very opposite viewpoint from what she has always held. But when she thinks it over she will see the truth of what I said. It won't be an easy task to change her, but it will be an interesting one. She needs a certain pleasant sophistication, which I feel sure I can give her, and then what a success she would be as a minister's wife in some rich city church! It certainly is worthwhile trying.

So he went on to visit his sick parishioner, quite satisfied and planning a series of educative sermons that should do the trick of turning Daphne Deane into a young woman of the world.

But Daphne went into the house greatly troubled. Was this the minister to whose coming they had looked forward with so much eagerness? They had felt that he would be such a wonderful influence on the young people in the community. He was said to be so full of life and so sympathetic with the young. She seemed to remember the exact phrases used by the elder who was chairman of the committee appointed to select a minister. Other phrases from his report concerning Mr. Addison kept coming to her mind as she went slowly upstairs to take off her hat and put on a house dress to help with the dinner. He had said that the young man was broad and progressive and had the name of gathering the young people around him and getting them into church work. But now that she thought it over, there had not been a single word about his spirituality, his consecration, his wisdom in winning souls. They had just taken all that for granted and read them into the endorsement eagerly, so glad to have found a minister at last after almost a year of candidating.

But it was too late to go back over that now. He was here, called and installed, established in the church and community. There was nothing to be done about it but pray, and after all, that was the greatest power a Christian had in any matter. God held even the hearts of kings in His hand, and He could make this all come out for the best. Arguing and disagreeing couldn't do any good, but God could change anything. With God all things were possible.

So before she went down to the kitchen, Daphne knelt beside her bed and prayed for the young minister who was just then planning a series of educative sermons for her benefit. Then with the burden laid down, she arose and went downstairs with a serene brow.

 

By Sunday night William Knox was almost beside himself, for Martha was on her high horse riding him to death. She had got out of him exactly how much money the man Gowney had given him, just how he had worded the receipt he had given, and where William had put the money. Indeed, she had made him let her count it and examine each ragged, dirty bill critically, although Martha would not have known a counterfeit twenty-dollar bill if there had been one there. And then she had made him rummage through the old toolbox in the woodshed till he found two chain bolts, which she had him put on the front and back doors. After which she had sent him forth again to find news of Gowney, since it was of no further use to try and get in touch with young Morrell until Monday, as they had only his office address.

While William was gone, she sat with nervous alertness by the telephone, ready to call the police in case anybody seemed to be getting into the house to steal that money.

And while she waited, she figured out just what they would do with that money in case the sale should go through after all, and whether they were duty bound to tell young Morrell about what Gowney had given privately to William to let him take possession or whether it was really all right for them just to keep it and shut up about it. Of course, a lot depended upon Morrell's attitude to the sale. And besides, she had always prided herself on being an honest woman. She wanted to do the right thing, but if the sale went through smoothly, what right had young Morrell to that extra money when he didn't know a thing about it? And, of course, he would be having
his
extra ten thousand anyway. That is
if
Gowney was not a crook, which she strongly feared he was.

But late in the afternoon William came back, reporting that Gowney had gone out to Chicago to his grandmother's funeral and might be gone several days yet. Martha sniffed unbelievingly and settled down to another night of anxious watching and waiting, while William, worn out by the unusual strain, ate a hearty supper surreptitiously from the pantry shelf, helping himself to a double portion of apple pie, which Martha was saving for the morrow. Then he went to bed and to sleep. He hadn't had such a strenuous time since the gangsters kidnapped Bennie Stebbins and hid him in the old Forrest place on the edge of town, and he was held responsible because he had it for rent while the family were in Europe. He had been supposed to get a caretaker for it but had been economizing by doing it himself; that is, he drove over that way once a fortnight and looked toward the place from a distance. That had been a really tight place when they tried to connect him with the kidnapping as an accessory, and Martha certainly had rubbed it into him then that she might have married any one of three better men than he had proved to be. He thought of it sadly as he eased his weary body into bed and sank down on the pillow gently. He wanted to make sure of being asleep before Martha discovered he had gone to bed, or he would certainly have a night of it. If he could be really asleep, Martha would not try much. She knew how hard he was to wake.

As he sank off to sleep he took comfort from the fact that he had finally got out of that kidnapping scrape, and probably some way would eventually be provided to get him out of this, but anyhow he was going to have one more night's rest.

But along toward midnight, when he was blissfully in his soundest, Martha shook him until his teeth chattered, and shouted in his good ear: "Wake up, William! Wake up! Something terrible must be happening over at the Morrell house, and likely you're in for another awful time. You'd better wake up and think what you're going to say when they come for you!"

But William, inert, gave a carefully calculated snore and turned over into his pillow. Long practice had made him perfect in this sort of thing.

What had happened was this. Martha, attired in an old bathrobe over her daytime clothes, her feet thrust into large fleece-lined slippers and her hair in curlers, had established herself in the old Morris chair beside the telephone for the night. She had turned out the lights and put her flashlight on the table beside her. But in spite of her firm resolves, she had fallen asleep in her chair.

Suddenly into the midst of her dreams the telephone sounded out piercingly, and she was awake and on the job at once.

"Is this William Knox's residence?" asked a sharp feminine voice, for which Martha Knox was wholly unprepared.

"It is!" she said, stiffening visibly in the dark and fumbling on the table for her flashlight, which continually evaded her.

"Well, is he there?"

"He
is
!" said Martha severely, as if her husband had been insulted by the suggestion that he would not be in his bed at that hour of the night.

"Well, I'd like to speak to him at once."

"Who is this?" demanded Martha irately.

"Why, this is Harriet Gassner," was the answer. "Is this Martha Knox?"

"This is
Mrs.
Knox, yes," said Martha haughtily.

"Well, I thought so. I thought I knew your voice. Well, would you just call Mr. Knox, please? It's about the Morrell house. Doesn't William, I mean, doesn't your husband, have charge of that?"

"Oh, no!" said Martha with sudden apprehension in her voice. "No, indeed! He doesn't have charge of it. He never takes charge of houses. He merely has it for sale or rent. He's the agent, you know. Did you want to buy it? Because, I'm afraid--" Her voice trailed off into uncertainty as she realized that she must not tell anything she knew.

"Oh, mercy no! Buy that house? At this time of night? Well, I should say not. I'm Mrs. Gassner, you know, back on Emerson Street. I merely wanted to say I saw a light there and I thought maybe I ought to report it."

"A light!" said Martha catching her breath. "Well, perhaps the young Morrell who owns it has come home."

"No," said Mrs. Gassner, "I don't think so. He was just home a few days ago and went away. I happen to know, for I saw him running for the train. And I went over to Mrs. Deane's where he was all that day and asked her was he coming back to live, and she said she didn't think so, that he had gone back to New York. So, I'm sure it can't be him. Besides, the light is in the oddest place, away down near the ground. I thought at first it was a cat's eyes reflecting the light from the street, but then I saw it was larger than any cat's eyes. There are two lights, you know, round and a little way apart, and they are steady. They don't move. You see, I've been watching them a long time, and my husband thought I ought to do something about it. At least, I was going to call the police, but he suggested your husband might be able to explain it."

Martha struggled with the frightened lump in her throat.

"Well, that's very strange, isn't it?" she said trying to sound affable. "But don't you worry. I'll tell my husband, and he'll attend to it. Of course, since he has the house for rent I suppose he'll say it's all right for him to see what is going on. The cellar, you say? No, I wouldn't call the police if I were you, they're so nosy. I wonder if the plumber was down in the cellar fixing a leak or something and left the light on? Maybe my husband will know."

"Well, I hadn't thought of that," said Mrs. Gassner. "I was afraid it might be tramps got in."

"How did you happen to be watching the house this time of night?" asked Martha, the keen ferret, suddenly. "I shouldn't think you could see so far."

"Well, I don't sleep sa good, and I can see the house from my bed, and light travels a good piece, you know."

"Yes, I s'pose it does. Well, you better get back to bed. My husband will look after it if he thinks it's anything to worry about!" And so she had eased off the other woman and hung up, shaking with cold and fright, and had hurried to waken William.

It was not until she had poured the whole story out incoherently several times that William decided it was time for him to appear to rouse and get the particulars.

It was perhaps an hour later and a streak of dawn was beginning to appear in the sky when William Knox, attired in trousers over his pajamas and carrying an old-fashioned lantern, which Martha kept ready for emergencies, started out on his furtive pilgrimage. Martha wanted to go along until he persuaded her that she should stay at home and look after the valuables and be ready to send assistance in case he didn't return in a reasonable time. But he extinguished his lantern as soon as he was out of sight of the house, and he made a wide detour around the block in the dark, viewed the old Morrell house from a safe distance, and went home to reassure Martha.

"It's that Gassner woman. It's her imagination, Martha. You might have known that. There wasn't a sign of light anywhere!" And he crept comfortably into bed again and slept till Martha roused him in the morning to get ready for the new day, which she feared was going to be full of trouble.

But Mrs. Gassner was not the only one who had seen the mysterious light on Sunday night. Emily Lynd had seen that low spot of brightness that could be just glimpsed afar over her windowsill more than once since she had told Daphne about it. And in spite of the fact that they had both decided there must be some simple, natural explanation to it, she could not get it off her mind. As she lay praying after her light had been turned out and her nurse was sound asleep in the next room, she could not help opening her eyes now and then toward that light that came and went so mysteriously.

It had not been there for two nights, but now this Sunday night it shone long and steadily, low down just above the terrace, always in that same place. If she were only well and able to be up, she would be out the first thing tomorrow morning and she would walk straight to the place to satisfy herself what it could be. But she was bound here on this bed and could only watch and wonder.

She could not get to sleep at all that night, so she spent the time praying for the son of her old friend Nellie Morrell. But when the morning came, the matter of the light was still on her mind and she decided to write a little note to Keith. That would be better surely than giving the matter to the police. If Keith thought it was anything that ought to be looked into, he would know what to do about it. So she wrote her note and had it posted early in the morning, sending it special delivery.

Keith Morrell got William Knox's letter Monday morning when he went to the office, and he answered it promptly by telegram:

 

Will not sell at any price. Cancel immediately and return retainer.