and then returned and continued her search, peeping into papers one after another, tolerably methodically, and reading some quite through.
While this felonious business was going on, I was freezing with fear lest she should accidentally look round and her eyes light on me; for I could not say what she might not do rather than have her crime discovered.
Sometimes she would read a paper twice over; sometimes a whisper no louder than the ticking of a watch, sometimes a brief chuckle under her breath, bespoke the interest with which here and there a letter or a memorandum was read.
For about half an hour, I think, this went on; but at the time it seemed to me all but interminable. On a sudden she raised her head and listened for a moment, replaced the papers deftly, closed the desk without noise, except for the tiny click of the lock, extinguished the candle, and rustled stealthily out of the room, leaving in the darkness the malign and hag-like face on which the candle had just shone still floating filmy in the dark.
Why did I remain silent and motionless while such an outrage was being committed? If, instead of being a very nervous girl, preoccupied with an undefinable terror of that wicked woman, I had possessed courage and presence of mind, I dare say I might have given an alarm, and escaped from the room without the slightest risk. But so it was; I could no more stir than the bird who, cowering under its ivy, sees the white owl sailing back and forward under its predatory cruise.
Not only during her presence, but for more than an hour after, I remained cowering in my hiding-place, and afraid to stir, lest she might either be lurking in the neighborhood, or return and surprise me.
You will not be astonished, that after a night so passed I was ill and feverish in the morning. To my horror, Madame de la Rougierre came to visit me at my bedside. Not a trace of guilty consciousness of what had passed ruing the night was legible in her face. She had no sign of late watching, and her toilet was exemplary.
As she sat smiling by me, full of anxious and affectionate enquiry, and smoothed the coverlet with her great felonious hand, I could quite comprehend the dreadful feeling with which the deceived husband in the “Arabian Nights” met his ghoul wife, after his nocturnal discovery.
Ill as I was, I got up and found my father in that room which adjoined his bedchamber. He perceived, I am sure, by my looks, that something unusual had happened. I shut the door, and came close beside his chair.
“Oh, papa, I have such a thing to tell you!” I forgot to call him “Sir.” “A secret; and you won’t say who told you? Will you come down to the study?”
He looked hard at me, got up, and kissing my forehead, said —“Don’t be frightened, Maud; I venture to say it is a mare’s nest; at all events, my child, we will take care that no danger reaches you; come, child.”
And by the hand he led me to the study. When the door was shut, and we had reached the far end of the room next the window, I said, but in a low tone, and holding his arm fast —
“Oh, sir, you don’t know what a dreadful person we have living with us — Madame de la Rougierre, I mean. Don’t let her in if she comes; she would guess what I am telling you, and one way or another I am sure she would kill me.”
“Tut, tut, child. You must know that’s nonsense,” he said, looking pale and stern.
“Oh no, papa. I am horribly frightened, and Lady Knollys thinks so too.”
“Ha! I dare say; one fool makes many. We all know what Monica thinks.”
“But I saw it, papa. She stole your key last night, and opened your desk, and read all the papers.”
“Stole my key!” said my father, staring at me perplexed, but at the same instant producing it. “Stole it! Why here it is!”
“She unlocked your desk; she read your papers for ever so long. Open it now, and see whether they have not been stirred.”
He looked at me this time in silence, with a puzzled air; but he did unlock the desk, and lifted the papers curiously and suspiciously. As he did so he uttered a few of those inarticulate interjections which are made with closed lips, and not always intelligible; but he made no remark.
Then he placed me on a chair beside him, and sitting down himself, told me to recollect myself, and tell him distinctly all I had seen. This accordingly I did, he listening with deep attention.
“Did she remove any paper?” asked my father, at the same time making a little search, I suppose, for that which he fancied might have been stolen.
“No; I did not see her take anything.”
“Well, you are a good girl, Maud. Act discreetly. Say nothing to anyone — not even to your cousin Monica.”
Directions which, coming from another person would have had no great weight, were spoken by my father with an earnest look and a weight of emphasis that made them irresistibly impressive, and I went away with the seal of silence upon my lips.
“Sit down, Maud, there. You have not been very happy with Madame de la Rougierre. It is time you were relieved. This occurrence decides it.”
He rang the bell.
“Tell Madame de la Rougierre that I request the honour of seeing her for a few minutes here.”
My father’s communications to her were always equally ceremonious. In a few minutes there was a knock at the door, and the same figure, smiling, courtesying, that had scared me on the threshold last night, like the spirit of evil, presented itself.
My father rose, and Madame having at his request taken a chair opposite, looking, as usual in his presence, all amiability, he proceeded at once to the point.
“Madame de la Rougierre, I have to request you that you will give me the key now in your possession, which unlocks this desk of mine.”
With which termination he tapped his gold pencil-case suddenly on it.
Madame, who had expected something very different, became instantly so pale, with a dull purplish hue upon her forehead, that, especially when she had twice essayed with her white lips, in vain, to answer, I expected to see her fall in a fit.
She was not looking in his face; her eyes were fixed lower, and her mouth and cheek sucked in, with a strange distortion at one side.
She stood up suddenly, and staring straight in his face, she succeeded in saying, after twice clearing her throat —
“I cannot comprehend, Monsieur Ruthyn, unless you intend to insult me.
“It won’t do, Madame; I must have that false key. I give you the opportunity of surrendering it quietly here and now.”
“But who dares to say I possess such thing?” demanded Madame, who, having rallied from her momentary paralysis, was now fierce and voluble as I had often seen her before.
“You know, Madame, that you can rely on what I say, and I tell you that you were seen last night visiting this room, and with a key in your possession, opening this desk, and reading my letters and papers contained in it. Unless you forthwith give me that key, and any other false keys in your possession — in which case I shall rest content with dismissing you summarily — I will take a different course. I know I am a magistrate; — and I shall have you, your boxes, and places up-stairs, searched forthwith, and I will prosecute you criminally. The thing is clear; you aggravate by denying; you must give me that key, if you please, instantly, otherwise I ring this bell, and you shall see I mean what I say.”
There was a little pause. He rose and extended his hand towards the bell-rope. Madame glided round the table, extended her hand to arrest his.
“I will do everything, Monsieur Ruthyn — whatever you wish.”
And with these words Madame de la Rougierre broke down altogether. She sobbed, she wept, she gabbled piteously, all manner of incomprehensible roulades of lamentation and entreaty; coyly, penitently, in a most interesting agitation, she produced the very key from her breast, with a string tied