“Dare?” I repeated.
She smiled deprecatingly. “That was a silly word to use, was n't it?” Again that tormented little sigh. “You see, I'm a silly little person. I'm not fit to carry the weight of other people's secrets.”
Again I repeated like some brainless parrot, “Secrets?”
“Of course there are secrets, child,” she said impatiently. “Every one has secrets, their own or other people's. You have secrets, without doubt?”
I had. She had successfully silenced me. After that we worked steadily, and there was no further attempt at confidence.
Nevertheless, as I lay on my bed trying to read and waiting for Mary's summons, I decided that I would make a strong effort to get Mrs. Brane and Robbie out of the house. I had come to the conclusion that my employer was the victim of a mild sort of mania, one symptom of which was a fear of leaving her home. I thought I would consult with Dr. Haverstock and get him to order Robbie and Robbie's mother a change of air. It might cure the little fellow of his nervous terrors. How I wish I had thought of this plan a few days sooner! What dreadful reason I have for regretting my delay!
Mary was a long time in coming. I must have fallen asleep, for a while later, I became aware that I had slipped down on my pillows and that my book had fallen to the floor. I got up, feeling rather startled, and looked at my clock. It was already half-past twelve, and Mary had not called me. I went to my door and found that it was locked. I remembered that it had been my alternate plan for Mary to lock me in, and I supposed that she had forgotten that our final decision was in favor of the other scheme, or she had preferred to watch over Robbie alone. I was a little hurt, but I acquiesced in my imprisonment and went back to bed. I put out the light, and was very soon asleep again.
I was waked by a dreadful sound of screaming. I sat up in bed, stiff with fear, my heart leaping. Then I ran towards the door, remembered that it was locked, and stood in the middle of the room, pressing my hands together.
The screaming stopped. Robbie had had his nightmare, and it was over. Thank God! this time my alibi was established without doubt. I was enormously relieved, for I had begun myself to fear that I had been walking in my sleep, and, perhaps, influenced by the description of Robbie's favorite nightmare, had unconsciously acted out the horror beside his bed. After a while, the house being fairly quiet, though I thought I would hear Mary moving about, I went back to my bed. When she could leave her charge I knew that she would come to me with her story. I tried to be calm and patient, but of course I was anything but that.
It was nearly morning, a faint, greenish light spread in the sky, opening fanlike fingers through the slats of my shutter. After a while, it seemed interminable, a step came down the hall. It was not Mary's padded, nurselike tread, it was the quick, resolute footstep of a man. It stopped outside my door. There was no ceremony of knocking, no key turned. The handle was sharply moved, and, to my utter amazement, the door opened.