"I told you so," said Mr. Nathan, with a quiet chuckle. "Sister Ann, Sister Ann, do you see any one coming?"
"I am frightened to go in," said Margaret, shrinking back.
"Nonsense, my dear, nonsense; we shan't have our heads cut off."
She followed him into the room, but saw nothing to alarm her. There was but little furniture; two chairs, a. table, and a desk, all in a very dusty condition. The windows had not been cleaned for some time, and it was evident that no use was made of the room. Mr. Nathan opened a cupboard--it was empty; tried a desk--it was locked. If it was a Bluebeard's room, the secret was well hidden; the only thing to excite comment was that a number of pictures were hanging with their faces turned to the wall.
"To preserve them from the dust, I should say," observed Mr. Nathan; "one--two--three--thirteen of 'em, my dear. We'll have a peep at them at all events."
They were all portraits, and were all painted by the same hand. Mr. Nathan seemed to find some cause for curiosity in this circumstance. One of the portraits, Margaret said, was like Mr. Weston when he was a young man.
"Taken a good many years ago," said Mr. Nathan, placing the pictures in their original position. "There is something in it, my dear. If the old gentleman has a secret, it lies in those pictures."
"What is to be done now?" asked Margaret in despair.
"Well, my dear, it's a puzzle. But we'll try and work it out. We must put our heads together, and use stratagem. Don't be downcast; nothing is done without courage. We won't be beaten if we can help it. Come and see me to-morrow, and in the meantime get at the story of these pictures if you can. I dare say the old gentleman has told Mr. Hart something about them."
They left Bluebeard's room in not a very hopeful frame of mind.