The person - Mr. Jeffrey, or
some other - was coming my way and in perfect darkness. I could
hear the faltering steps - the fingers dragging along the walls;
then a rustle as of skirts, proving the intruder to be a woman - a
fact which greatly surprised me - then a long drawn sigh or gasp.
"The last determined me. The situation was too intense for me to
leave without first learning who the woman was who in terror and
shrinking dared to drag her half resisting feet through these empty
halls and into a place cursed with such unwholesome memories. I
did not think of Veronica. No one looks for a butterfly in the
depths of a dungeon. But I did think of Miss Tuttle - that woman of
resolute will. Without attempting to imaging the reason for her
presence, I stood my ground and harkened till the heavy mahogany door
at the other end of the room began to swing in by jerks under the
faint and tremulous push of a terrified hand. Then there came
silence - a long silence - followed by a moan so agonized that I
realized that whatever was the cause of this panting woman's
presence here, it was due to no mere errand of curiosity. This
whetted my purpose. Anything done in this house was in a way done
to me; so I remained quiet and watched. But the sounds which now
and then came from the remote corner upon which my attention was
concentrated were very eloquent.
Pages:
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367