"William," said I, "Deacon Spear is too good a man, and, as I take it, is in possession of too great worldly advantages for you to be at enmity with him. Remember that he is a neighbor, and that you are a landed proprietor in this lane."
"Good for you!" was the elegant reply with which this young boor honored me. "I didn't think you had such an eye for the main chance."
"Deacon Spear is rich, is he not?" I pursued, with an ulterior motive he was far from suspecting.
"Rich? Why, I don't know; that depends upon what you city ladies call rich; I shouldn't call him so, but then, as you say, I am a landed proprietor myself."
His laugh was boisterously loud, and as we were then nearly in front of the Deacon's house, it rang in through the open windows, causing such surprise, that more than one head bobbed up from within to see who dared to laugh like that in Lost Man's Lane. While I noted these heads and various other small matters about the house and place, William tied up the horse and held out his hand for me to descend.
"I begin to suspect," he whispered as he helped me out, "why you are so anxious to have me on good terms with the Deacon." At which insinuation I attempted to smile, but only succeeded in forcing a grim twitch or two to my lips, for at that moment and before I could take one step towards the house, a couple of pigeons rose up from behind the house and flew away in a bee-line for Mother Jane's cottage.
"Ha!" thought I; "my instinct has not failed me. Behold the link between this house and the hut in which those tokens of crime were found," and was for the moment so overwhelmed by this confirmation of my secret suspicions, that I quite forgot to advance, and stood stupidly staring after these birds now rapidly disappearing in the distance.
William's voice aroused me.
"Come!" he cried. "Don't be bashful. I don't think much of Deacon Spear myself, but if you do—Why, what's the matter now?" he asked, with a startled look at me. I had clutched him by the arm.
"Nothing," I protested, "only—you see that window over there? The one in the gable of the barn, I mean. I thought I saw a hand thrust out,—a white hand that dropped crumbs. Have they a child on this place?"