"Bates!"-I found him busy replenishing the candlesticks
in the library,-it seemed to me that he was always
poking about with an armful of candles,-"there
are a good many queer things in this world, but I guess
you're one of the queerest. I don't mind telling you
that there are times when I think you a thoroughly bad
lot, and then again I question my judgment and don't
give you credit for being much more than a doddering
fool."
He was standing on a ladder beneath the great crystal
chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling,
and looked down upon me with that patient injury
that is so appealing in a dog-in, say, the eyes of an
Irish setter, when you accidentally step on his tail.
That look is heartbreaking in a setter, but, seen in a
man, it arouses the direst homicidal feelings of which
I am capable.
"Yes, Mr. Glenarm," he replied humbly.
"Now, I want you to grasp this idea that I'm going
to dig into this old shell top and bottom; I'm going
to blow it up with dynamite, if I please; and if I catch
you spying on me or reporting my doings to my enemies,
or engaging in any questionable performances
whatever, I'll hang you between the posts out there in
the school-wall-do you understand?-so that the sweet
Sisters of St. Agatha and the dear little school-girls
and the chaplain and all the rest will shudder through
all their lives at the very thought of you."
"Certainly, Mr. Glenarm,"-and his tone was the
same he would have used if I had asked him to pass
me the matches, and under my breath I consigned him
to the harshest tortures of the fiery pit.
"Now, as to Morgan-"
"Yes, sir."
"What possible business do you suppose he has with
Mr. Pickering?" I demanded.
"Why, sir, that's clear enough. Mr. Pickering owns
a house up the lake,-he got it through your grandfather.
Morgan has the care of it, sir."
"Very plausible, indeed!"-and I sent him off to his
work.
After luncheon I went below and directly to the end
of the corridor, and began to sound the walls. To the
eye they were all alike, being of cement, and substantial
enough. Through the area window I saw the solid earth
and snow; surely there was little here to base hope upon,
and my wonder grew at the ease with which Morgan
had vanished through a barred window and into frozen
ground.
The walls at the end of the passage were as solid as
rock, and they responded dully to the stroke of the
hammer. I sounded them on both sides, retracing my
steps to the stairway, becoming more and more impatient
at my ill-luck or stupidity. There was every reason
why I should know my own house, and yet a stranger
and an outlaw ran through it with amazing daring.