Читать книгу The Mystery of Murrawang - Edward S Sorenson - Страница 5

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Lydia came smartly into the room, but on noticing the visitor she half-stopped, and the pink faded magically from her cheeks. She was a strongly-built woman of middle age, good looking above the average, in whose face, however, there were unmistakable signs of care. Only Rory noticed her concern. What he saw whetted his curiosity, and directed his attention more closely to Rhea when she had finally withdrawn. The man who wanted to have a quiet talk with her had merely given her one shifty glance.

"For some unaccountable reason," Mrs. Borrn commenced, "Ralston had a great antipathy to that west-end room. It was given to Lydia during her last term with them. She still had it when we took her over with the station, and she's got it yet. It isn't a nice room, by any means; no one else here would have it, but she prefers it to any other.

"Now, as soon as her work is finished she goes to that room, locks the door and window, and no amount of knocking or calling can bring her out of it or elicit an answer, until she emerges next morning. She says she does not hear—that she goes to bed and to sleep immediately. But that's all my eye. Just wait till I tell you."

This was a pet phrase of Mrs. Borrn's when she wished to be impressive.

"One night I had to come down for something—I forget what it was—but, anyhow, I couldn't get it without going to Lydia. Receiving no answer to my knock—as usual—I tried the door, and, very much to my surprise, I found it unlocked. I thought this a fortunate circumstances. Entering quietly, I relit my candle, which the wind had blown out, and looked for Lydia. She wasn't there. Not a sign of her.

"I was angry, you may be sure, at finding the woman out at that hour. It was 12 o'clock, mind you. I was also puzzled as to where she could be. The only outside place where she could look for company, so far as I know, was the hut; and she hadn't been seen there. As a matter of fact. I have never known Lydia to go to the hut. She was always a girl who kept much to herself.

"I fastened the window inside, and locked the door. 'Now my lady,' I says, 'I'll see what your little game is, for now that the kitchen keys are locked up in your room, you'll have to wait outside until I let you in."

"I went down early next morning, expecting to find Lydia nursing her chin on the doorstep. Instead, I found the window wide open. The bed was as I had seen it the night before. Apparently she had not long come home, but how did she open the window? I went to the kitchen. There was Lydia at her work as usual!

"'Where were you last night, Lydia?' I asked. I didn't speak very gently either, for I was annoyed at the woman's duplicity.

"'Nowhere, ma'am.' She seemed astonished at the question.

"'Now, Lydia, speak the truth. I went to your room at twelve last night, and you were not there.'

"'I fell asleep in th' chair at th' foot of the bed. I left my candle in the kitchen,' she answered.

"'You sat down in the dark?' I questioned.

"'Just to take my shoes off. Then I fell asleep,' she replied.

"'You must have been very sleepy indeed,' I said, 'when you couldn't keep awake long enough to take your shoes off."

"She began to get a little bit cantankerous then; she's not the most amiable person in the world, I can tell you.

"'There's a lot of work on this place for one girl to do, an' I'm kept goin' all day. I often wonder meself how I do it,' was her answer.

"It seemed incredulous that she should be there and I not see her; but I let it remain at that. Next night, however, I posted Rory in the garden to watch the room. He saw her enter with something in her arms, and heard her lock the door and window.

"He waited till an hour after she had put the light out. Then he banged at the door, and called her by name. But there was no response. So he smashed a window-pane to get at the lock. By this means he got into the room. The bed was undisturbed, and Lydia was nowhere to be seen, It was a puzzle to Rory, as it was to the rest of us, how she had got out."

"You are sure she didn't pass out by the door unseen by you?" Ellis Rhea inquired of Rory Borrn.

"Quite sure. The door was locked and the key inserted inside."

"But wait till I tell you," Mrs. Borrn resumed. "'Well,' says Rory, 'I'll wait till you come back, my good woman, if I have to wait all night.' So he lit a cigar and sat down, very much elated; for Rory, you must know, is in his glory when engaged on a mysterious case. It's often struck me that we should have made a detective of him. He has an aptitude for that sort of thing, only" and Mrs. Borrn smiled with the utmost urbanity, "if he were shadowing a suspect it would be with a pair of long-necked spurs dangling at his heels, and a stockwhip doubled over his shoulder. You'll see his spur tracks round the legs of the chairs, and on the linoleum in front of them. Certainly they couldn't be on better heels, for there was never a horse on Tiaro Creek that could throw him out of the saddle. As for his father—well, I've seen a kick-up put him over the horse's neck like a frog leaping into a billabong."

"You're drifting away from the point, my dear," Mr. Borrn quietly interjected.

His wife laughed softly. "Let me see! Where was I?"

"You left me smoking a cigar, mother," said Rory; "when you've finished I'll go and smoke another."

"You're quite welcome to go and smoke it now," his mother rejoined. "But wait till I tell you. When he had sat there for somewhere about three hours, he heard a noise at the window. He kept very quiet, though he was shivering with excitement, you may be sure, but on the alert for any emergency, nevertheless. His eyes were riveted on the window, and he was wondering if she would detect the broken pane, and throw a light within as a precautionary preliminary, when all at once he heard a plaintive me-e-ow! It was the cat.

"He composed himself again, and sat hour after hour, smoking no end of cigars, flavored now and again with something out of a flask, probably limejuice, or milk and water.

"The night passed, and just at dawn, when Rory's head was getting too heavy to hold up, a match was struck close against his shoulder. Rory sprang up, very much alarmed, and saw Lydia standing behind his chair. She darted past him before he could compose himself, the light being extinguished immediately; and—my goodness! didn't she scream.

"She had the household keys in her pocket, and in a few minutes she was at my door, yelling at the top of her voice. I hurried out, and found her cowering in the passage, in a state of panic. She said Master Rory was in her room....She'd never heard of such a thing on Broonah before....It was a shame that I should allow such carryings-on. Then, she started to cry, and wound up by giving me a week's notice.

"However, I smoothed her ruffled feathers after awhile, promising that she should not be molested again. So the mystery has remained unsolved to this day."

"How did she explain her absence?" asked Rhea.

"She didn't admit it." Mrs. Borrn replied. "She said she'd been sitting on the floor behind the bed looking over some old letters in her box. The candle burnt out and she fell asleep and did not wake till dawn. She was in her stockings, so could walk on the carpet without being heard by Rory. The statement may be true; but it's a hard morsel to swallow."

They left the table shortly afterwards, and the matter was not referred to again; but later in the evening Rory, who had become suspicious and circumspective, discovered Ellis Rhea at Lydia's window. Somewhat surprised, Rory crept closer, watching with tense interest.

Rhea's movements were stealthy. He tried the window, which was fastened; then he endeavored to peer into the room, but in this he was foiled by a thick blind. There was a faint light within, but no sound could be heard. It was a still night, softly lit by the brilliance of countless stars bejewelling a clear blue sky.

Frustrated in his secret purpose, Rhea left the window, and was moving cautiously round the wall when Rory, seeing that he must be discovered, stepped into the light. Rhea started guiltily, but in a moment recovered his composure.

"Halloa!" he said, with a forced laugh, "are you at it too?"

"At what?" queried Rory, coldly.

"Trying to discover the secret of the vanishing Lydia," said Rhea.

"No. I wasn't," answered Rory. "I thought I had bumped a burglar."

Rhea chuckled mirthlessly. "Well, you know," he said, thrusting his hands into his pockets and moving away from the room, "I was immensely interested in what your mother told me. Strolling round this way, where I used to enjoy many a stroll years ago, when I lived here with the Ralstons, I was curious to know if she had gone to sleep in the wrong place again. What do you make of that woman?"

"All I know is that she's our cook," said Rory. "You know a lot more than that, don't you?"

Rhea looked at him sharply. "What makes you think so?"

"She was at the bank in Berrinong when you were there, wasn't she?"

Rhea swung half round, eyeing his questioner with resentment. "What's that got to do with what your mother told us?" he demanded.

"I don't know—except that she was mightily concerned on seeing you here."

"Indeed!" There was a sneer in the utterance of the word. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, I have eyes to see," said Rory, with a shrug of his shoulders. "What's behind it might be illuminating."

"If there's anything behind it, I suppose it's best known to herself." said Rhea, nastily. "I'm sorry I can't enlighten you."

"I judged that her perturbation didn't arise from anything that was confined to herself," Rory returned.

"I think you imagine things," snapped Rhea, looking away at the black skyline. "I saw nothing—"

"I observed that," Rory broke in quickly. "You hardly looked at her, though you used to know her well, and hadn't seen her for seven years, and she was the subject of the discussion that you were particularly interested in."

Rhea walked on without speaking, and presently he entered the house, his moody demeanor implying something different from a growing regard for Rory.