"Is the place his? Has Miss Cumberland made a will?"
"Her will will be read to-morrow. For to-night, Arthur Cumberland's position here is the position of a master."
"I will respect it, sir, up to all reasonable bounds. I don't think he meditates giving any trouble. He's not at all impressed by our presence. All he seems to care about is what his sister may be led to say in her delirium."
"That's how you look at it?" The coroner's tone was one of gloom. Then, after a moment of silence: "You may call my carriage, Sweetwater. I can do nothing further here to-day. The atmosphere of this house stifles me. Dead flowers, dead hopes, and something worse than death lowering in the prospect. I remember my old friend—this was his desk. Let us go, I say."
Sweetwater threw open the door, but his wistful look did not escape the older man's eye.
"You're not ready to go? Wish to search the house, perhaps."
"Naturally."
"It has already been done in a general way."
"I wish to do it thoroughly."
The coroner sighed.
"I should be wrong to stand in your way. Get your warrant and the house is yours. But remember the sick girl."
"That's why I wish to do the job my self."
"You're a good fellow, Sweetwater." Then as he was passing out, "I'm going to rely on you to see this thing through, quietly if you can, openly and in the public eye if you must. The keys tell the tale—the keys and the hat. If the former had been left in the club-house and the latter found without the mark set on it by the mechanic's wife, Ranelagh's chances would look as slim to-day as they did immediately after the event. But with things as they are, he may well rest easily to-night; the clouds are lifting for him."
Which shows how little we poor mortals realise what makes for the peace even of those who are the nearest to us and whose lives and hearts we think we can read like an open book.
The coroner gone, Sweetwater made his way to the room where he had last seen Mr. Clifton. He found it empty and was soon told by Hexford that the lawyer had left. This was welcome news to him; he felt that he had a fair field before him now; and learning that it would be some fifteen minutes yet before he could hope to see the carriages back, he followed Hexford upstairs.
"I wish I had your advantages," he remarked as they reached the upper floor.
"What would you do?"
"I'd wander down that hall and take a long look at things."
"You would?"
"I'd like to see the girl and I'd like to see the brother when he thought no one was watching him."
"Why see the girl?"
"I don't know. I'm afraid that's just curiosity. I've heard she was a wonder for beauty."
"She was, once."
"And not now?"
"You cannot tell; they have bound up her cheeks with cloths. She fell on the grate and got burned."
"But I say that's dreadful, if she was so beautiful."
"Yes, it's bad, but there are worse things than that. I wonder what she meant by that wild cry of 'Tear it open! See if her heart is there?' Tear what open? the coffin?"
"Of course. What else could she have meant?"
"Well! delirium is a queer thing; makes a fellow feel creepy all over. I don't reckon on my nights here."
"Hexford, help me to a peep. I've got a difficult job before me and I need all the aid I can get."
"Oh, there's no trouble about that! Walk boldly along; he won't notice—"
"He won't notice?"
"No, he notices nothing but what comes from the sick room."
"I see." Sweetwater's jaw had fallen, but it righted itself at this last word.
"Listening, eh?"
"Yes—as a fellow never listened before."
"Expectant like?"
"Yes, I should call it expectant."
"Does the nurse know this?"
"The nurse is a puzzler."
"How so?"
"Half nurse and half—but go see for yourself. Here's a package to take in,—medicine from the drug store. Tell her there was no one else to bring it up. She'll show no surprise."
Muttering his thanks, Sweetwater seized the proffered package, and hastened with it down the hall. He had been as far as the turn before, but now he passed the turn to find, just as he expected, a closed door on the left and an open alcove on the right. The door led into Miss Cumberland's room; the alcove, circular in shape and lighted by several windows, projected from the rear of the extension, and had for its outlook the stable and the huge sycamore tree growing beside it.
Sweetwater's fingers passed thoughtfully across his chin as he remarked this and took in the expressive outline of its one occupant. He could not see his face; that was turned towards the table before which he sat. But his drooping head, rigid with desperate thinking; his relaxed hand closed around the neck of a decanter which, nevertheless, he did not lift, made upon Sweetwater an impression which nothing he saw afterwards ever quite effaced.
"When I come back, that whiskey will be half gone," thought he, and lingered to see the tumbler filled and the first draught taken.
But no. The hand slowly unclasped and fell away from the decanter; his head sank forward until his chin rested on his breast; and a sigh, startling to Sweetwater, fell from his lips. Hexford was right; only one thing could arouse him.
Sweetwater now tried that thing. He knocked softly on the sick-room door.
This reached the ear oblivious to all else. Young Cumberland started to his feet; and for a moment Sweetwater saw again the heavy features which, an hour before, had produced such a repulsive effect upon him in the rooms below. Then the nerveless figure sank again into place, with the same constraint in its lines, and the same dejection.
Sweetwater's hand, lifted in repetition of his knock, hung suspended. He had not expected quite such indifference as this. It upset his calculations just a trifle. As his hand fell, he reminded himself of the coroner's advice to go easy. "Easy it is," was his internal reply. "I'll walk as lightly as if eggshells were under my feet."
The door was opened to him, this time. As it swung back, he saw, first, a burst of rosy color as a room panelled in exquisite pink burst upon his sight; then the great picture of his life—the bloodless features of Carmel, calmed for the moment into sleep.
Perfect beauty is so rare, its effect so magical! Not even the bandage which swathed one cheek could hide the exquisite symmetry of the features, or take from the whole face its sweet and natural distinction. Frenzy, which had distorted the muscles and lit the eyes with a baleful glare, was lacking at this moment. Repose had quieted the soul and left the body free to express its natural harmonies.
Sweetwater gazed at the winsome, brown head over the nurse's shoulder, and felt that for him a new and important factor had entered into this case, with his recognition of this woman's great beauty. How deep a factor, he was far from suspecting, or he would not have met the nurse's eye with quite so cheery and self-confident a smile.
"Excuse the intrusion," he said. "We thought you might need these things. Hexford signed for them."
"I'm obliged to you. Are you—one of them?" she sharply asked.
"Would it disturb you if I were? I hope not. I've no wish to seem intrusive."
"What do you want? Something, I know. Give it a name before there's a change there."
She nodded towards the bed, and Sweetwater took advantage of the moment to scrutinise more closely the nurse herself. She was a robust, fine-looking woman, producing an impression of capability united to kindness. Strength of mind and rigid attendance to duty dominated the kindness, however. If crossed in what she considered best for her patient, possibly for herself, she could be severe, if not biting, in her speech and manner. So much Sweetwater read in the cold, clear eye and firm, self-satisfied mouth of the woman awaiting his response to the curt demand she had made.