Some Must Watch by Ethel Lina White (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕
For all that, it offered a solidly resistant front to the solitude. Its state of excellent repair was evidence that no money was spared to keep it weather-proof. There was no blistered paint, no defective guttering. The whole was somehow suggestive of a house which, at a pinch, could be rendered secure as an armored car.
It glowed with electric-light, for Oates' principal duty was to work the generating plant. A single wire overhead was also a comfortable reassurance of its link with civilization.
Helen no longer felt any wish to linger outside. The evening mists were rising so that the evergreen shrubs, which clumped the lawn, appeared to quiver into life. Viewed through a veil of vapor, they looked black and grim, like mourners assisting at a funeral.
"If I don't hurry, they'll get between me and the house,
Read free book «Some Must Watch by Ethel Lina White (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Ethel Lina White
- Performer: -
Read book online «Some Must Watch by Ethel Lina White (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕». Author - Ethel Lina White
outside the house—if only for a minute—will not return. The door will be
locked on him, or her, and it will not be opened again.”
A host of disturbing possibilities flitted across Helen’s mind. In
particular, she had a vision of Dr. Parry—on a special mission which
concerned herself—standing outside in the rain.
“But, if we recognize the voice, will that alter things?” she asked
timidly.
“Certainly not,” said the Professor. “Voices can be imitated. I repeat.
You are to open to no one, man, woman or child.”
“Oh, but, Professor, you can’t mean a child?” cried Helen. “If I heard
baby crying outside I’d just have to take it in.”
The Professor smiled bleakly.
“You’d probably find your baby waiting to grip your throat,” he told
her. Surely you’ve heard child-impersonators over the wireless, whose
imitations are faultless?”
“He could squeal his head off for all the effect he’d make on me,” said
Stephen brutally. “I was done out of my chance of a fortune by an
unexpected Blessed Event in my family… And I promise you this,
too. I wouldn’t cross the room for any woman alive.”
The look which Simione threw him was a challenge, which was intercepted
by Newton. He gave a faint hoot of laughter.
“Ever heard of Shakespeare, Rice?” he asked caustically.
“Or of a quotation-‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much’? We hear so
much about your being a woman-hater, and see so little evidence.”
The Professor rapped the table, as though he would silence a noisy
Session.
“That is all,” he said. “Miss Capel, will you please pass on my orders
immediately to Mrs. Oates and Nurse Barker?”
“Yes, Professor,” said Helen.
Suddenly she was assailed by a fresh complication.
“What about Oates?” she asked.
“He will remain outside,” was the relentless reply. “He can garage the
car, and remain there, until the dawn.”
“But Lady Warren might want her oxygen?”
“Lady Warren must take her chance with the rest. I am committed to a
policy of Safety First. Perhaps I understand the situation better than
the rest of you… When I was in India, in my youth, I remember a
tiger which prowled outside a cattle-enclosure. Again and again it broke
through the defense, in spite of every precaution.”
He dropped his voice, as he added, “There is a tiger, outside this
house, now.”
As he spoke, there was the sound of loud knocking on the front door.
SECRET INTELLIGENCE
The knocking ceased, and a bell was pealed which brought Helen
instinctively to her feet.
“I’ll answer the door,” she said,
She crossed the room before she realized the significance of her action.
No one else had moved; but all were looking at her—their expressions
passive, scornful, or amused, according to temperament.
The Professor nodded at his sister—a sardonic gleam in his gleam in his
eye.
“The weak link,” he observed, in an undertone.
The familiarity of the phrase brought home to Helen its special meaning,
so that she colored to the rqots of her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she faltered, “but it’s second-nature for me to answer a
bell.”
“You gave us a demonstration of that,” said the Professor acidly. “I
don’t wish to be severe, but you must remember that forgetfulness, in
this case, ranks with disobedience.”
The knocking was repeated, and again a bell pealed in the distance. Even
although she was under observation, and on her guard, Helen found it an
ordeal to stand by and do nothing.
“It’s like watching milk boil over,” she thought, “or seeing a child
play with fire. Someone ought to do something. I’m sure it is all
wrong.”
She noticed how the muscles of Miss Warren’s face quivered at every
blow, and her own nerves twitched in sympathy.
A third assault was made on the door. This time Stephen seemed conscious
of the tension.
“Look here, sir, with due deference to you and all that isn’t this
going a bit too far? Cutting all the wires, I mean. That may be the
postman, with an unstamped letter for me, to say my Cousin Fanny has
passed out, and left me her heir.”
The Professor explained, with the dreary patience with which he
enlightened a pupil’s ignorance. “I have just given an order, Rice. It
would be reactionary conduct on my part to commit the same fault for
which I’ve just rebuked Miss Capel. If once we begin to make exceptions
to a precaution which is intended for the general safety, it ceases to
have any value.”
“Yes, sir.” Stephen grimaced at a fourth, and louder assault on the
knocker and bell. “But it gets my goat not knowing who’s outside.”
“Oh, my dear Rice, why didn’t you say that in the beginning?” The
Professor’s smile flickered and went out. “Of course, it is the Police.”
“Police?” echoed Newton. “Why have they to come here?”
“A mere formality, since the Summit is in the radius of—of this affair.
They will want to know if we can furnish them with any information. If
they would accept a negative answer, and go, I would relax my rule in
their favor.”
“But you can’t keep them out, Sebastian,” cried Miss Warren.
“I have no intention of keeping them out. When they call tomorrow, they
will be admitted. I’m master of my house, and I’ve wasted too much time
already, tonight.”
Through his glasses, his eyes flashed hungrily over the papers on his
desk…
Helen hoped fervently that Mrs. Oates would answer the door, for the
Police seemed a direct answer to prayer. She had a mental vision of a
compact body of solid, uniformed men, bringing with them the protection
of the Law.
Suddenly she thought that she might force the Pro fessor’s hand.
“But I could tell them something,” she said.
“Miss Capel,” he said, in measured tones, “have you any clear, concise
knowledge that will be of definite use to the Police? For.
instance—have you seen the criminal, so that you could describe him?”
“No,” replied Helen.
“Then, have you any idea as to who he is, or where he is?”
“No,” replied Helen, wishing she could sink into the floor.
“Well—have you any valuable theory?”
“No, but—but I think he hides behind trees.”
Simone led the suppressed laughter, in which even Miss Warren joined.
“Thank you, Miss Capel,” said the Professor. “I think the Police can
wait for your help, until tomorrow morning.”
Helen’s heart sank, It seemed always “tomorrow,” and she still dreaded
the night which divided her from the dawn.
The Professor, however, seemed to have some pity for her confusion, for
he spoke to her, in the voice of a considerate employer.
“Now, Miss Capel, will you be so kind as to tell Mrs. Oates and Nurse
Barker, my decision.”
“Indeed, I will,” Helen assured him.
“I suppose Gran doesn’t know about the murder?” asked Newton.
“No,” replied Miss Warren, “neither she nor the nurse can know. I’m the
only person who has been upstairs, since Dr. Parry brought us the news.
And I should certainly not dream of alarming her.”
“She must not be told,” commanded the Professor.
The hall was silent when Helen passed through it. The Professor had worn
down the patience of the Police, who happened to be in the singular
person. After exposure to what was practically a water-spout, he drew
his own conclusion from the barred windows, and decided to call
bydaylight. Apparently the fear of the maniac had spread from the
cottages to the big houses of the neighborhood.
When Helen reached the kitchen, to her surprise, she was unable to
enter. At first, Mrs. Oates did not answer her tap; but presently, a
huge distorted shadow crossed the frosted glass of the door, and a key
clicked in the lock.
Mrs. Oates towered over her, with a confused red face and sleepy eyes.
“Must have lost myself,” she explained.
“But is it safe to go to sleep with the door locked?” asked Helen,
“Suppose your clothes caught on fire, and we couldn’t get at you?”
“Yes, you could. Nearly all the locks here has the same key; only you
can’t turn them, because they’re never used,”
“Naturally,” said Helen. “You only lock your door in loose houses, and
hotels. I’ve always taken pure situations, and I’ve never locked my door
in my life.”
“Well, if I was you, I’d oil my key, and lock my door, tonight,” said
Mrs: Oates.
“How useful,” laughed Helen, “if any other key would fit it.”
“But theirs would be rusty,” explained Mrs. Oates.
When Helen delivered the Professor’s message, she jerked her head
defiantly.
“Thank his lordship for nothing. Doors are not my work, and never was.”
As she retreated inside the kitchen, Helen caught her sleeve.
“Please, Mrs. Oates, don’t lock the door,” she entreated.
“I’d hate to feel I couldn’t reach you. I’m such a fool, tonight. But I
depend on you, more than anyone else in the house.”
“That’s right.” Mrs. Oates shot out her jaw in the old aggressive way.
“If anyone gets in, I’ll knock his block off.”
With the comforting assurance ringing in her ears, Helen mounted the
stairs, to the blue room, which had regained some of its former
fascination. As though she had been listening for her step, the door
slid open an inch, to reveal. Nurse Barker.
“I’ve something to tell you,” Helen whispered. “There’s been another
murder.”
Nurse Barker listened to every detail. She asked questions about
Ceridwen’s character, her duties about the house, her lovers. At the end
of the story, she gave a short laugh.
“She’s no loss, Her sort asks for it.”
“What d’you mean by ‘her sort’?” asked Helen.
“Oh, I know the type. You’ve not got to tell me’… Sluttish. Little
dark eyes, saying ‘Come into a dark corner,’ to every man. A slobbery
red mouth, saying ‘Kiss me. A lump of lust.”
Helen stared as Nurse Barker reeled off the glib description, for she
had not mentioned Ceridwen’s personal appearance.
“Have you heard of Ceridwen before?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“Then how did you know what she looked like?”
“Welsh.”
“But all Welsh girls are not like that.”
Nurse Barker merely changed the subject. “As for the Professor’s orders
about the doors, they are not necessary, Answering doors is not part of
a nurse’s duty. And I should certainly not risk my life by going
outside, in this storm. It is an insult to my intelligence.”
Helen felt more at her ease when Nurse Barker exalted her own
importance. She became a definite type—which, although unpleasant—was
only too common, in her experience. It did not pair with that mephitic
shade—raised by Mrs. Oates—the midnight hag, who crept down the stairs,
when the household was asleep, to let in Murder.
“Nurse!”
At the familiar bass voice, Nurse Barker turned to Helen.
“I want to go down to the kitchen, to see about certain things,” she
said, “Could you stay with her?”
“Certainly,” replied Helen.
“Not frightened now?” sneered Nurse Barker. “When did you have a change
of heart?” “I was just silly before,” explained Helen. “I’m a bit run
down. But now we’ve got something real to fight, fancies must go to the
wall.”
With her old confidence, she entered the bllle room, expecting a
welcome. But Lady Warren seemed to have for gotten her former interest.
Comments (0)