reakedbeneathourtread.Sometimesitseemedimpossiblethatheshouldfailtohearourapproach.However,themanisfortunatelyratherdeaf,andhewasentirelypreoccupiedinthatwhichhewasdoing.Whenatlastwereachedthedoorandpeepedthroughwefoundhimcrouchingatthewindow,candleinhand,hiswhite,intentfacepressedagainstthepane,exactlyasIhadseenhimtwonightsbefore.
Wehadarrangednoplanofcampaign,butthebaronetisamantowhomthemostdirectwayisalwaysthemostnatural.Hewalkedintotheroom,andashedidsoBarrymoresprangupfromthewindowwithasharphissofhisbreathandstood,lividandtrembling,beforeus.Hisdarkeyes,glaringoutofthewhitemaskofhisface,werefullofhorrorandastonishmentashegazedfromSirHenrytome.
“Whatareyoudoinghere,Barrymore?”
“Nothing,sir.”Hisagitationwassogreatthathecouldhardlyspeak,andtheshadowssprangupanddownfromtheshakingofhiscandle.“Itwasthewindow,sir.Igoroundatnighttoseethattheyarefastened.”
“Onthesecondfloor?”
“Yes,sir,allthewindows.”
“Lookhere,Barrymore,”saidSirHenrysternly,“wehavemadeupourmindstohavethetruthoutofyou,soitwillsaveyoutroubletotellitsoonerratherthanlater.Come,now!Nolies!Whatwereyoudoingatthatwindow?”
Thefellowlookedatusinahelplessway,andhewrunghishandstogetherlikeonewhoisinthelastextremityofdoubtandmisery.
“Iwasdoingnoharm,sir.Iwasholdingacandletothewindow.”
“Andwhywereyouholdingacandletothewindow?”
“Don’taskme,SirHenry—don’taskme!Igiveyoumyword,sir,thatitisnotmysecret,andthatIcannottellit.IfitconcernednoonebutmyselfIwouldnottrytokeepitfromyou.”
Asuddenideaoccurredtome,andItookthecandlefromthetremblinghandofthebutler.
“Hemusthavebeenholdingitasasignal,”saidI.“Letusseeifthereisanyanswer.”Ihelditashehaddone,andstaredoutintothedarknessofthenight.VaguelyIcoulddiscerntheblackbankofthetreesandthelighterexpanseofthemoor,forthemoonwasbehindtheclouds.AndthenIgaveacryofexultation,foratinypinpointofyellowlighthadsuddenlytransfixedthedarkveil,andglowedsteadilyinthecentreoftheblacksquareframedbythewindow.
“Thereitis!”Icried.
“No,no,sir,itisnothing—nothingatall!”thebutlerbrokein“Iassureyou,sir—”
“Moveyourlightacrossthewindow,Watson!”criedthebaronet.“See,theothermovesalso!Now,yourascal,doyoudenythatitisasignal?Come,speakup!Whoisyourconfederateoutyonder,andwhatisthisconspiracythatisgoingon?”
Theman’sfacebecameopenlydefiant.“Itismybusiness,andnotyours.Iwillnottell.”
“Thenyouleavemyemploymentrightaway.”
“Verygood,sir.IfImustImust.”
“Andyougoindisgrace.Bythunder,youmaywellbeashamedofyourself.Yourfamilyhaslivedwithmineforoverahundredyearsunderthisroof,andhereIfindyoudeepinsomedarkplotagainstme.”
“No,no,sirno,notagainstyou!”Itwasawoman’svoice,andMrs.Barrymore,palerandmorehorror-struckthanherhusband,wasstandingatthedoor.Herbulkyfigureinashawlandskirtmighthavebeencomicwereitnotfortheintensityoffeelinguponherface.
“Wehavetogo,Eliza.Thisistheendofit.Youca