“Right,” said Wise; “go ahead, Miss Carnforth, tell me anything that seems to you different in meaning from what Mr. Tracy has described.”
Quite willing, Eve told of the ghostly visitant that had appeared to her the night she slept in the Room with the Tassels, and then described vividly the ghost that had appeared to Vernie, as Vernie had told it to her.
“You see,” she concluded, “there is no explanation for these things, other than supernatural, for the locks and bars on the house preclude intrusion of outsiders, and all the occupants of the house are accounted for. I tell you the things just as they happened.”
“With no wish to be discourteous, Miss Carnforth, I would advise you to tell those tales to the submarines. Even the marines couldn’t swallow those! Could they, Zizi?”
“No,” and now that they could see the girl, all noticed a slight smile of amusement on her young face. It was quickly followed by a look of horror in her black eyes, as she murmured, “What awful frights you must have had!” and she glanced at Milly, in sympathy. Then she turned toward Norma, and seemed about to speak, but thought better of it.
Not looking toward his “property,” Wise went on talking. “I can readily see how any one willing to believe in the occult could turn these weird happenings into plausible proof. But it is not so. Miss Carnforth’s own story convinces me even more strongly that there has been diabolical cleverness used, but by a human being, not a phantom.”
“And you will discover how, you will solve the mysteries?” asked the Professor, eagerly.
“I hope to. But it is the most difficult appearing case I have ever encountered.”
“It is not an eleventh case, then?” and Professor Hardwick told again of Andrew Lang’s percentage of proof.
“No, it is not. It is one of the ten that are the result of fraud. Now to find the perpetrator of the fraud.”
“At least you must admit, Mr. Wise,” said Eve, a little spitefully, “that your saying it is a case of fraud does not make it so.”
“No,” agreed Wise, smiling in an exasperatingly patronizing way, “it sure does not. In fact it has already made itself so.”
“And your discovery of the means used is bound to come?” asked Tracy, with interest.
“Bound to come,” repeated the detective. “But don’t let us begin by being at odds with each other. I came here to discover the truth. If any one wants the truth to remain undiscovered, now is the time to say so. For it will soon be too late.”
“Why should any one want the truth to remain undiscovered?” said Braye, abruptly.
“For two reasons,” replied Wise, seriously. “First, any one criminally implicated might wish it to remain unknown; second, any one wishing to shield another, might also wish no discoveries made.”
“But you don’t think any of us are criminally implicated, I hope,” and Braye looked questioning.
“There are others in this house beside you people,” Wise returned; “and I tell you frankly, I’m not ready yet to suspect any one or even imagine who the criminal may be. I only state positively that disembodied spirits are not responsible for those two tragic deaths. Also, may I ask you to remember, that I’ve only just arrived, that I’ve had a tiresome journey, that I’d like rest and refreshment, and that there are more days coming for my further work.”
“Why, bless my soul!” exclaimed the Professor, “that’s all true! Do you know, Mr. Wise, it seems as if you’d always been here, it seems as if you were already one of us.”
“Thank you, sir, that’s a pleasant compliment to my personality, anyway. And now, if you please, Mrs. Landon, may I be shown to my room?”
“Certainly,” said Milly, and she rang for Thorpe, as Landon rose to escort the guest himself.
“Where’s that girl?” said Norma, looking round after the detective had gone off, “what became of her?”
But there was no sight of the little black-robed figure.
“Oh, let her alone,” said Eve, “she slid out to the kitchen, I think. Hester will look after her. That man said to pay no more attention to her than to his hand luggage. She’ll look out for herself, I’ve no doubt. Isn’t she awful, anyway?”
“I think she’s pretty,” said Norma, “in a weird, elfin sort of way.”
“She knows it all,” said Braye. “I never saw such an effect of old head on young shoulders in my life. But what a funny way to treat her.”
“She’s a spy,” declared Eve, “that’s what she is, a spy! With her silent, gliding ways, and her sly, soft voice! I hate her!”
“Now, now, Evie, don’t be unjust!” and Braye smiled at her. “She is a bit your style and temperament, but don’t be jealous!”
“Nonsense!” and Eve laughed back at him, “why, she isn’t a bit like me! She has black hair and eyes——”
“I didn’t notice,” said Braye, “but she impressed me as being like you in lines and motions.”
“A pocket edition,” laughed Tracy. “Miss Carnforth would make two of that little shrimp, and Miss Carnforth is a sylph, herself.”
The party broke up into smaller groups, and Braye and Norma sauntered off for their usual afternoon stroll.
Eve watched them go, her eyes moodily staring.
“Won’t I do?” said Tracy’s quiet voice, and Eve pulled herself together and smiled at him.
“You’re the one I want most,” she declared gaily, unwilling to be thought disappointed. “Let’s walk down by the lake.”
The walk by the lake was always shaded, but as the day was murky it was gloomier than ever.
“You like this place?” asked Tracy, with a glance at the black grove of aspens, and their dark reflection in the still water of the deep pool.
“Yes, I do; or, I did, until that man came up here. There’s no use in pursuing our investigations with him around.”
“All the more use,” declared Tracy. “If any supernatural things happen it will refute his cocksure decisions.”
“Yes, it would. Oh, I do wish a ghost would appear to him, and scare him out of his wits!”
“He has plenty of wits, Miss Carnforth, and he’d take some scaring, I think. But if a real phantasm came, he’d know it, and he’d acknowledge it, I’m sure. He strikes me as an honourable man, and a decent, straightforward sort.”
“If he is,” and Eve ruminated, “perhaps he can help us to investigate——”
“That’s what he’s here for.”
“I mean investigate our beliefs. If he could be convinced, as we are, of the existence of phantoms, and of their visitations, he’d be a splendid help, wouldn’t he? Perhaps I am in wrong in disliking him.”
“You’re certainly premature. Why, not one man out of a thousand does believe in the occult. And not one in a million detectives, I daresay.”
Meantime, Braye and Norma were talking in like vein.
“I do believe it was a spirit that killed our dear Vernie, and Mr. Bruce,” Norma declared, “but if Mr. Wise can prove the contrary, we want him to do so, don’t we, Rudolph?”
“Of course, Norma, we all feel that way. I, especially, for as heir to Uncle Gif’s money, I’m in a peculiar position. But if anybody can get at the truth, this Wise person can. He’s a live wire, I can see that.”
“Shall