Читать книгу The Smugglers' Secret - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 8

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Tony was resting comfortably by midnight. The doctor had announced that the bullet could not be found, having lodged itself so deeply that nothing but an X-ray picture could reveal its position. Consequently, Tony was scheduled to accompany the medical man to the hospital the next morning.

The doctor had retired to one of the guest rooms leaving Hal and Blake alone with little, white-haired Mrs. Marsh. The old lady, being naturally of a nervous disposition, was terribly upset by her grandson’s misfortune.

“Just when he had a chance to have a nice long Thanksgiving vacation,” she said wistfully, rocking back and forth in a big chair.

Hal looked up from where he was sitting and smiled. “It’s a mean trick, that’s a fact,” he said, “but I’m glad he’s not hurt any worse. Another thing, if he’s got to stay at the hospital for a few days he won’t mind it. The doctor says there’s some mighty pretty nurses in that place.” He winked at Blake who stood before the fireplace.

Mrs. Marsh smiled indulgently. “You’re just like your Uncle Denis, Hal,” she said in a gentle chiding tone. “Just the same, I’m awfully thankful you came for if Tony can’t be here with me I just have to have someone else and I’m glad it’s you. You see, Blake, since he came to me two weeks ago, insists on sleeping in the servants’ quarters upstairs and that has left me all alone on this lower floor every night. I’ve been so nervous that I have had but little sleep. And I stayed over from the summer season on the doctor’s advice that I need the peace and quiet and mountain air at this time of the year. My, I’m afraid it’s been anything but peaceful for me since that gypsy woman showed up here one morning.”

“Gypsy woman?” Hal repeated politely.

“My, yes,” said the old lady, evidently glad to pour out her troubles. “That was about four weeks ago when Mr. Dudley came. Such a nice young gentleman he was too.”

Hal looked at his hostess inquiringly. She smiled.

“Mr. Dudley happened by here and asked if I had any work he could do. It seems he was willing to do anything and said that he simply wanted to be up here for his health and would not require any pay, just his board and room if I could give it to him. Of course I was delighted for my chauffeur, James, like most modern chauffeurs, doesn’t care to do much general utility work like chopping wood and so forth. Also it took some of the work from Mary’s shoulders (she’s my cook) and besides I liked him immediately.”

“And that was when the gypsy woman came, huh?” Hal asked as a little reminder.

“Yes, but she was very lovely for a gypsy woman and spoke English quite well,” the old lady chattered. “She wanted to tell my fortune and, of course, that’s one of my weaknesses—superstition. I told her that and we had a good laugh over it.” She smiled reminiscently.

Hal grinned. “No wonder Tony’s got it so bad then. He comes by it honestly.”

“Your uncle always teases me about that failing,” she said good-naturedly. “As many years as he and I have been friends he seems never to tire of teasing me about it. Nevertheless, even he wouldn’t laugh at the apparent truths that gypsy woman told me. Two of the events she foretold have come to pass and one happened within the week of her telling. She said that Mr. Dudley would suddenly disappear and that I would never know the reason why, or where he disappeared to. And he did disappear!” Hal smiled skeptically. “He could have walked off just as quickly as he came, couldn’t he?” he suggested, consolingly.

“Of course,” said the old lady, “but he gave no indication of it, and he left behind some nice clothes. The night he disappeared—it was after supper—he said he was awfully pleased with everything and loved the place. Then he said he was going out for a walk. Mary and James and I all saw him sauntering off down the road. That was the last we saw of him.”

“Granted that there is something mysterious about his disappearance, Mrs. Marsh,” said Hal, “how about the gypsy woman? Where did she come from?”

“I really don’t know,” the old lady replied. “Mr. Dudley said he thought they had a camp in the thick of the woods about five miles from here. He wasn’t positive, but he said he saw a little smoke rising from between the trees in that direction one day when he was out collecting firewood.”

Quite by chance Hal happened to look Blake’s way and caught that silent young person staring hard into space. A curious expression filled his straight, aquiline features, and that he was suppressing some very great emotion was obvious.

Mystified, Hal turned again to Mr. Marsh. “Where did this Dudley come from?” he asked quickly.

“I really couldn’t tell you, Hal,” the old lady answered nervously. “He never said and I hesitated to ask him. Mary said he wrote letters in his room during the week he was here and James saw him mail them one day when they were down in Hightown shopping.”

“And what was the other catastrophe that the gypsy foretold, Mrs. Marsh?” Hal asked whimsically.

“Oh, you can laugh, young man,” said she graciously, “but I can’t help but think that I should have taken her advice and gone to the city as she warned me.”

Hal bit his under lip thoughtfully. “She advised you to go to the city, did she?” he asked.

“My, yes,” said the old lady with surprising naivete, “and I guess she knew what she was talking about at that. She said the Fates were going to go against me if I stayed.” And despite the fact that she was a singularly bright and intelligent woman, it was obvious that she implicitly believed in the gypsy’s prophecies for she added: “Besides it came about that the house did catch fire, just as it was predicted. I smelled smoke and I got up to find that our back pantry was afire. It was a fortunate thing that Mr. Blake had just come along that day for it took the four of us to put it out. Mary and James and I could never have done it alone. Goodness, I fairly shiver when I think how near we all were to being burned alive in our beds!”

Blake met Hal’s inquiring glance with smiling equanimity. “It was exciting while it lasted,” he said simply.

Hal grinned sardonically. “I dare say, it must have been,” he agreed. Then he turned to Mrs. Marsh: “Does that conclude the list of hair-raising predictions?”

“My, no,” answered the old lady nervously, “that’s why I’m so glad to have you stay here with me a little while. There are to be a series of fires and one that will finally consume the camp, and finally there is to be a death!” The last the poor, frightened old soul fairly whispered in terror. “You see why I shouldn’t stay....”

Hal got to his feet. “That gypsy ought to be put in jail for frightening you like that!” he exclaimed. “It’s an outrage! Now listen, Mrs. Marsh, you go to bed and put all those fool notions out of your head.”

“I have given Mrs. Marsh that same advice, Keen,” Blake said quietly. “That’s why I’m intruding here tonight, sort of—she’s insisted on someone being with her all the time. You see she hates to be alone!”

“I see,” Hal said, levelling his eyes on Blake suspiciously. “Good thing you happened along, huh?”

“My, yes,” Mrs. Marsh interposed. “Blake happened along miraculously—just like poor Mr. Dudley.”

“For his health, I suppose?” Hal asked, politely sarcastic.

To his surprise, Blake answered, “Yes indeed—for my health!”

Mrs. Marsh arose at that juncture and announced that she would retire. “Now that you two young men know each other,” she said, “I’ll get along so I can get up to get Tony and the doctor off in the morning, early. I’m going to sleep with a contented mind,” she said sweetly, appraising Hal’s powerful physique with maternal satisfaction, “knowing that you’re going to snore in the room next to mine.”

Hal managed a grin. “I never heard myself snore, so I don’t believe I do,” he said gaily, and wished her a pleasant good-night.

When the door of her room had closed, Hal turned to Blake. “Want to come outside and have a smoke with me before we turn in?” he asked, strangely solemn.

Blake nodded, his face drawn and weary looking. “Don’t mind if I do,” he answered hoarsely.