“He done me out of a thousand dollars,” growled another slouching figure. “I’m glad his house is gone! I hated to see it here.”
“I guess Poole’s own children won’t starve,” said a woman’s shrill voice. “He’ll take care of that!”
“How many’s he got?”
“Only two; a baby an’ that proud, stuck-up piece who used to ride around last summer, don’t you know? They say she——”
“Oh, she ain’t so bad!” One of the women who had seen Anne dance had interrupted. But Anne moved hastily away before she heard more. She fancied one of the men was looking at her as if he recognized Poole’s daughter. She stumbled along in the dark which was now lighting into a grey dawn, thinking vaguely that she would find Cap’n Sackett and ask him why he suspected Sal Seguin, and what all these strange sayings meant. She passed behind the garage and greenhouse, the vegetable garden all dry and weedy. Between her and Idlewild was the little hollow containing the old spring-house and a tomb-like structure of stone, built into the side of the hollow, that was the ice-house and cellar. Anne remembered it as windowless and mysterious, lined with sawdust—at least the part she knew. There was another part that was kept locked and only Mr. Poole and the butler held keys.
Anne was amazed to see the door of the ice-house open, and the ground outside littered with something. She flashed her light. They were jugs and bottles like those in the hut on the mountain. Somebody had been putting them in—or taking them out?
More eager than ever to find Cap’n Sackett, Anne hurried on around the burning building to the other side. It was a night full of mystery and fear. Not until she clasped the great hand of Cap’n Sackett, who was standing still for a moment watching the last crumbling ruin of the front wall fall into ashes, did Anne feel safe.
“Why Anne, child!” cried the Cap’n looking down at her. “Where did you come from? Hugh said you was safe with the other girls. You look tired and hot. You’re tremblin’, honey!” He put an arm about her. “Come right home with me. I’ll tell the boys you’ve gone.”
It was no use arguing. And indeed Anne had no mind to argue with the Captain. It seemed so restful and safe to be under his wing, asking no questions yet, hearing no explanations of all that puzzled her. She gave a sigh, and allowed him to lead her by the hand as he used to do when she was a little child, down the hill and across the field to the white house in the Cove.
“Sakes alive!” cried Aunt Polly who like everybody else in the neighborhood, including Nelly, was up and dressed. “If this ain’t Anne!” She stared as if she saw a ghost.