Presently they heard the rustle of a woman’s dress in the hallway. “Do you understand?” said Mr. Carteret, quickly. “You must ask her. You must force it out of her. If she refuses to tell you, you must choke it out of her. The ghosts have come back!” Then he hurriedly crossed the room to the French window that opened upon the terrace. As he reached the window, Edith stood in the doorway.
“Do you want me?” she asked.
“Frank wants you,” he answered, and stepped out blindly into the night. He groped his way across the terrace, and from the terrace went on to the lawn. Overhead the stars looked down and studded the lake with innumerable lights. The night insects were singing. The fireflies glimmered in the shrubbery. The perfume from the syringa thicket was heavy on the still air. Ordinarily these things did not appeal strongly to Mr. Carteret; but to-night they thrilled him. A few steps across the grass and he stopped and looked back. The house was silent. From the library windows the lamplight streamed out upon the terrace lawn. He turned away again and stood listening to the night things—the measured chorus of the frogs in the distant marsh, the whippoorwill that was calling in the darkness on the point. Then he resumed his progress across the lawns. Suddenly he came upon a figure in the darkness, and started.
“Has that fellow gone?” It was Whittlesea’s voice.
“Yes,” said Mr. Carteret.
“Then I must go back,” said the lawyer. “Carteret,” he went on, “this is wretched business. One would think that, in a spot like this, on such a night, people ought to be happy.”
“You are right,” said Mr. Carteret. “Whittlesea,” he added, “come along but don’t speak.” He slipped his arm through the lawyer’s and guided their steps back toward the terrace. They mounted it and stealthily approached the library window. From the darkness they could see into the lighted room, and not be seen. The lawyer gave a low exclamation, and drew his arm away.
Evanston and his wife were sitting side by side upon the couch. His arm was about her, and his face was bent close to hers. They made no sound, but her body shook a little, and trembled as if she were weeping silently. The two men parted in the darkness, Mr. Carteret retreating back across the terrace.
