My tone sobered the boy, but he did not pretend to be influenced by any such high motives as those which I persuaded myself actuated me, far more than idle curiosity.
“I don’t see that you or any stranger could possibly be of the least use to them,” he said. “All the same I’d give anything to find out about it, and I don’t see but what we might make some investigations without doing any one any harm. You are plucky enough for anything—not like Isabel; and just supposing, Reggie, that there is somebody shut up there that no one has ever seen; that man you met might be a kind of a keeper.”
“He was a gentleman,” I replied.
“He might have been some sort of a doctor,” said Moore consideringly.
“And don’t think for a moment,” I said, without noticing his last remark, “that they are the kind of people to do anything wicked or cruel. They are the sufferers themselves, of that I am certain.”
“I’ll have a good look at them in church next Sunday,” he replied. “I do remember noticing them in their big square pew, and thinking they looked gloomy and queer, but I could not see them very well from where I sat. Have you been back to the door in the wall again to see if it is still open?”
I shook my head.
“No,” I replied, “I have kept quite out of the way of it since Isabel got so frightened. Indeed I have not spoken to her about it for some time, and I have often thought how much I should like to tell you about it; I knew you’d be so interested. Only, Moore—remember what you have promised,” I added impressively.
“Of course I shall,” he replied. “You’ve never known me break my word, now, have you, Reggie?”
“No,” I allowed.