in,andwilltakenostepsuntilyouarrive.”
Hewaswaitingontheplatformwhenwesteppedout,andwecouldseeinthelightofthestationlampsthathewasverypale,andquiveringwithagitation.
“Theyarestillthere,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe,layinghishandharduponmyfriend’ssleeve.“IsawlightsinthecottageasIcamedown.Weshallsettleitnowonceandforall.”
“Whatisyourplan,then?”askedHolmes,ashewalkeddownthedarktree-linedroad.
“Iamgoingtoforcemywayinandseeformyselfwhoisinthehouse.Iwishyoubothtobethereaswitnesses.”
“Youarequitedeterminedtodothis,inspiteofyourwife’swarningthatitisbetterthatyoushouldnotsolvethemystery?”
“Yes,Iamdetermined.”
“Well,Ithinkthatyouareintheright.Anytruthisbetterthanindefinitedoubt.Wehadbettergoupatonce.Ofcourse,legally,weareputtingourselveshopelesslyinthewrongbutIthinkthatitisworthit.”
Itwasaverydarknight,andathinrainbegantofallasweturnedfromthehighroadintoanarrowlane,deeplyrutted,withhedgesoneitherside.Mr.GrantMunropushedimpatientlyforward,however,andwestumbledafterhimasbestwecould.
“Therearethelightsofmyhouse,”hemurmured,pointingtoaglimmeramongthetrees.“AndhereisthecottagewhichIamgoingtoenter.”
Weturnedacornerinthelaneashespoke,andtherewasthebuildingclosebesideus.Ayellowbarfallingacrosstheblackforegroundshowedthatthedoorwasnotquiteclosed,andonewindowintheupperstorywasbrightlyilluminated.Aswelooked,wesawadarkblurmovingacrosstheblind.
“Thereisthatcreature!”criedGrantMunro.“Youcanseeforyourselvesthatsomeoneisthere.Nowfollowme,andweshallsoonknowall.”
Weapproachedthedoorbutsuddenlyawomanappearedoutoftheshadowandstoodinthegoldentrackofthelamp-light.Icouldnotseeherfaceinthedarkness,butherarmswerethrownoutinanattitudeofentreaty.
“ForGod’ssake,don’tJack!”shecried.“Ihadapresentimentthatyouwouldcomethisevening.Thinkbetterofit,dear!Trustmeagain,andyouwillneverhavecausetoregretit.”
“Ihavetrustedyoutoolong,Effie,”hecried,sternly.“Leavegoofme!Imustpassyou.MyfriendsandIaregoingtosettlethismatteronceandforever!”Hepushedhertooneside,andwefollowedcloselyafterhim.Ashethrewthedooropenanoldwomanranoutinfrontofhimandtriedtobarhispassage,buthethrustherback,andaninstantafterwardswewerealluponthestairs.GrantMunrorushedintothelightedroomatthetop,andweenteredathisheels.
Itwasacosey,well-furnishedapartment,withtwocandlesburninguponthetableandtwouponthemantelpiece.Inthecorner,stoopingoveradesk,theresatwhatappearedtobealittlegirl.Herfacewasturnedawayasweentered,butwecouldseethatshewasdressedinaredfrock,andthatshehadlongwhitegloveson.Asshewhiskedroundtous,Igaveacryofsurpriseandhorror.Thefacewhichsheturnedtowardsuswasofthestrangestlividtint,andthefeatureswereabsolutelydevoidofanyexpression.Aninstantlaterthemysterywasexplained.Holmes,withalaugh,passedhishandbehindthechild’sear,amaskpeeledofffromhercountenance,andtherewasalittlecoalblacknegress,withallherwhiteteethflashinginamusementatouramazedfaces.Iburstoutlaughing,outofsympathywithhermerrimentbutGrantMunrostoodstaring,withhishandclutchinghisthroat.
“MyGod!”hecried.“Whatcanbethemeaningofthis?”
“Iwilltellyouthemeaningofit,”criedthelady,sweepingintotheroomwithaproud,setface.“Youhaveforcedme,againstmyownjudgment,totellyou,andnowwemustbothmakethebestofit.MyhusbanddiedatAtlanta.Mychildsurvived.”
“Yourch