“Beg your pardon, miss, we’ll find them all out as we comes to them,” the man said. “It’s hard work, and it’s harder still when we haves to do it in the face of a lot of ladies as is innocent of everything, and don’t even know what we means when we speak. Won’t you say to the lady, sir, as she’ll be far better in her own room, and to let us do what is our painful dooty?”
“It is unnecessary for you to say anything, Charley,” said Mrs. Harwood; “if my house is to be treated like a thieves’ den, at least I shall stay here.”
“If it upsets you, lady, don’t blame us,” said the policeman, respectfully enough.
They went through all the rooms while she sat watching, Meredith lounging beside her in a chair, occasionally getting up to take a turn about the hall. If the policeman had been a man of any penetration, he would have seen that his investigations in these rooms were of no interest to the watchers, but that their excitement grew fierce every time he emerged into the hall.
Meredith felt the fire in his veins burn stronger as they came back and forward. It was with difficulty he could restrain his agitation. Mrs. Harwood’s chair had been pushed aside, leaving the access open to that mysterious door. She sat with her head turned away a little, her hands clasped together, an image of suspense and painful anxiety, listening for the men’s steps as they drew nearer. Gussy had followed the rest of the party, though it was against all her principles to yield to this excitement and make a show, as she said, of her feelings. She was vexed especially to see her mother “give way.”
“Let me put you back into the drawing-room, mamma. What is the use of staying here? Dolff has gone out, evidently. It is very silly of him, but still he has done so. It will do him no good for you to catch cold here. Charley, do tell her to come in. As for you, you will throw yourself back a week at least. Oh, for goodness’ sake, do not make everything worse by staying here!”
Mrs. Harwood made no reply. She shook her head with speechless impatience, and turned her face away. She was beyond all considerations but one, and she could not bear any interruptions, a voice, a sound, which kept her strained ears from the knowledge of the men’s movements, and where they were. Gussy’s whisper continued to Meredith was torture to her. She raised her hand with an imperative gesture to have silence, silence! her heart beating in her ears like a sledgehammer rising and falling was surely enough, without having any whispering and foolish, vain, ineffectual words.
“There’s nothing now but this door,” said the policeman, coming out somewhat crestfallen. “He’s nowhere else, that’s clear. If he ain’t here he’s given us the slip—for the moment. Hallo! it’s locked, this one is! I’ll thank you, sir, to get me the key.”
“I have always understood,” said Meredith, blandly, “that the door was built up, or fastened up. It has never been used since I have known the house.”
“I told you so,” said Julia, “if you had listened to me. It isn’t a door at all, and leads to nowhere. It was once the door of the wing,” she continued, with the liking of a child for giving information, “but it has never once been opened since ever I was born.”