CHAPTER XIII--THE WAY IT HAPPENED
Through consideration for the nerves and perhaps the credulity of thereader, it may be advisable at this juncture to go a little back in ourstory and relate the circumstances which led to the present perplexingcrisis. A great detective once said that "every mystery has a simplesolution"--meaning, of course, that the solution is simple when oncediscovered. Therefore, the puzzling mystery of the disappearance of babyJane and her two nurses, followed later by the vanishment of Mr. BulwerRunyon, was due to the one-time idiosyncracy of a certain SenorCristoval, happily deceased, rather than to any supernatural agency.
Until now we have only known Mildred Travers, as she called herself, ina casual way. We know that she was considered a competent nurse and hadproved her capability in the care of baby Jane. Also we know that shewas silent and reserved and that her eyes bore an habitual expressionthat was hard and repellent. Without being able to find any especialfault with the girl, no one was attracted toward her--always exceptingthe baby, who could not be expected to show discrimination at her tenderage.
A little of Mildred's former history had escaped her, but not enough tojudge her by. She had once lived in Southern California, near this veryplace. She had visited this house frequently with her father, when asmall child, and old Senor Cristoval had confided to her some of thesecrets of the mansion. That was all. What had become of friends andfamily, how she went to New York and studied nursing, or what mightaccount for that hard look in her eyes, no one now acquainted with herknew.
The Mexican girl, Inez, was nearly as peculiar and unaccountable asMildred. There was no mystery about her, however, except that she was socapable and intelligent, considering her antecedents. Inez' people livedin a small town in another part of the county and the girl was one of anumerous brood of children whose parents were indolent, dissipated andsteeped in ignorance. When fourteen years old she had left home to workfor some of the neighboring ranchers, never staying in one place longbut generally liked by her employers. The woman who had recommended Inezto Mrs. Weldon said she was bright and willing and more intelligent thanmost Mexicans of her class, but that she possessed a violent temper.
Louise had seen little evidence of that temper, however, for Inez fromthe first loved her new mistress and idolized the baby. It was onlyafter Mildred came to supplant her, as she thought, that the girldeveloped an unreasoning, passionate hatred for the other nurse and wasjealous of every attention Mildred lavished upon the little one.
The baby was impartial. She laughed and held out her chubby fists toeither nurse, perhaps realizing that both were kind to her. It was thisthat made Inez so furious and caused Mildred to disdain the Mexicangirl. The two were at sword's points from the first, although after alittle Mildred made an attempt to conciliate Inez, knowing that theuntutored Mexican was by nature irresponsible and jealous, but withalloving and generous.
Inez did not respond to these advances, but as the days passed shebecame less sullen when in the presence of Mildred, and at times, whenbusied over her duties, so far forgot her animosity as to converse withher in her old careless, unaffected way. Only Mildred was able to notethis slight change, and it encouraged her to believe she might win Inez'confidence in the end. Inez herself did not realize that she had changedtoward the "witch-woman," and when brooding over her fancied wrongshated Mildred as cordially as ever.
On the day when the Weldons and their guests rode into town, the twonurses had indulged in a longer and more friendly conversation thanusual. It began by Mildred's chiding the Mexican for taking baby to thequarters unknown to her, as she had been obliged to follow to see whathad become of the child. Inez retorted by accusing Mildred of spyingupon her. Their return to the house was anything but friendly, and Inezflatly refused to obey such instructions as Mildred gave her for thecare of baby. She even walked out of the court in a temper and was gonefor an hour. Then she stole in, a little ashamed of her revolt, butstill defiant and rebellious.
They were in the nursery and Mildred pretended not to notice herassistant's mood.
"I have prepared two bottles of baby's food," said she. "Please placeone in the hollow of the wall, in your room, to keep cool until we needit."
"I won't!" said Inez.
"Why not?" asked Mildred quietly.
"Because you are witch-woman," cried the Mexican; "because you use badmagic to make hollow in wall; because you try to make baby witch-woman,like yourself, by keeping her milk in the witch-place;because--because--I _hate_ you!" she concluded with a passionate stampof her foot.
Mildred looked upon the girl pityingly as she crossed herself again andagain as if in defiance of the supposed witchcraft. The poor girl soughtby this method to ward off any evil charm Mildred might attempt inretaliation, and the action nettled the trained nurse because the unjustaccusation was so sincerely made.
She slowly rose and taking the bottle of milk carried it herself to thehollow in the wall and placed it upon a shelf. Then, returning, shestood before the petulant, crouching Mexican and said gently:
"Were I truly a witch, Inez, I would not be working as a nurse--just asyou are. Nor do I know any magic, more than you yourself know."
"Then how you know about that hole in the wall?" demanded Inez.
"I wish you would let me explain that. Indeed, I think a good talktogether will do us both good. Take this chair beside me, and try tobelieve in my good will. I do not hate you, Inez. I wish you did nothate me."
Inez slowly rose from the floor and seated herself in the chair, turningit so that she could eye Mildred's face as she spoke.
"When I was a girl," continued Mildred, "I often came to this house tovisit. Sometimes I stayed here for several days, while my father talkedwith his old friend, old Senor Cristoval."
"That is a lie," asserted Inez. "I have ask Miguel, who is here fortyyears, an' was house servant for Senor Cristoval. Miguel say there is noSenor Travers who is friend of Senor Cristoval. No Senor Travers didever come to this house for visit. What you say to that, Witch-Woman?"
Mildred flushed and seemed embarrassed. Then she answered calmly:
"I think Miguel speaks truly, for my father did not bear the name ofTravers. He was called by another name."
"Then why do you call yourself Travers?" retorted the other.
Mildred hesitated.
"I did not like my old name," she said, "and so I changed it. But thisis a secret I have told you, Inez, and you must not tell anyone of it."
Inez nodded, looking at the other curiously. This confession had arousedher sympathy, for the first time, for her fellow nurse. The fact thatthere was a secret between them dissolved to an extent her antipathy forMildred, and it might be a bond to eventually draw them nearer together.With more tolerance than she had yet shown she asked:
"Did Senor Cristoval show you the secrets of this house?"
"Yes. I was a little girl and he was good to me. I am not a witch-woman,Inez. Oh, if I were, I would witch a little happiness into my life!" sheadded miserably.
This burst of rebellious longing interested Inez even more than thesecret. She could understand such a protest against fate.
"At first," continued Mildred, reverting to her former cold speech,while the hard look, which for an instant had given way to a flash ofsentiment, again crept into her eyes, "I thought I had forgotten thequeer recesses and secret rooms built by the elder Cristoval; but now Iam beginning to remember them. In the days when this wing was built, thecountry was wild and lawless. Robbers often visited a house in broaddaylight and took away all that was of value; so the firstCristoval--the father of the one I knew--made the secret place to hidehis treasure in, and even to hide himself and his family if the thievesthreatened them."
"Is the treasure there now?" asked Inez eagerly.
Mildred frowned, as if the question displeased her.
"Of course not. That was long ago. When I was a girl they no longerneeded the rooms in the wall as a hiding-place from thieves; but theykept them secret, j
ust the same. I think I am the only person SenorCristoval ever told. He did it to please me, I suppose, because I was achild."
Inez was much impressed. She began to regard Mildred more amicably. Ifshe were not a witch-woman, she reflected, there was no reason to fearher. The Mexican girl thought deeply on what she had heard, during thenext half hour. She watched Mildred put the baby to sleep and then takeup a book to read as she sat beside the crib. Inez went out into thedeserted court and squatting beside the fountain pondered upon thefascinating mysteries of the old house.
She crept back, presently, and reentered the nursery where Mildred wassitting.
"Tell me," she began, in a friendly and familiar way that was new in herrelations with the other girl, "are there indeed rooms hidden in thesewalls--big enough for people to hide in?"
Mildred smiled and laid down her book. Inez in this mood was worthcultivating, if she hoped to win her confidence. It would be far easierto get on in her new situation if Inez would learn to like her.
Another thing influenced her: a reflection that had not been absent fromher mind since the Weldons departed for the day and had left herpractically in charge of the house. She had come to this house for apurpose. Could that purpose be best accomplished to-day, or at somelater period?
"I believe," she answered musingly, "that this wall back of us is hollowand contains several rooms, which may be entered at various secretplaces--if one knows where the places are."
"They cannot be very big rooms," said Inez in a hushed, awed voice, asshe glanced at the wall.
"No; they must be narrow. But they are quite long and high--some ofthem--and there are stairs leading from one floor to another, just likethe big stairs in the hall."
Inez stared at her.
"How you know that?" she inquired.
"Why, I've seen the rooms," was the reply. "Let me think a moment."
During the pause she scrutinized the Mexican girl closely, wondering ifit would be advisable to take her into her confidence. Then shecontinued, speaking slowly:
"I'm almost sure it was in this very room that one of the secretentrances was built. It was not a nursery when I was here before, youknow; it was Senor Cristoval's office, where he kept his books and hismoney-boxes."
She rose, as she spoke, and looked uncertainly up and down the wall.Then, with a nod of satisfaction, she quickly walked to the east cornerand counted four blocks of adobe, starting from the floor. The fourthline of blocks she followed to the third one, and placed her hand uponit.
"I think I am right, so far," she said. "This is the door to the secretrooms, but the key that unlocks it is somewhere in the floor. Turn backthe rug, please, Inez."
The girl obeyed, her brown fingers trembling with excitement. The floorwas of adobe blocks similar to those which formed the wall, but smallerin size. Mildred regarded them reflectively and then placed her foot onthe edge of the second block directly in a line with the place where herhand rested. The pressure of her foot made the block tip slightly, andobserving this she pressed hard with her hand against the inner edge ofthe upper block.
The result seemed magical. Three seemingly solid blocks of the wallswung slowly outward, disclosing a dimly lighted recess beyond.
Mildred stepped in, stooping her head slightly because the opening wasso small. Inez followed her, nervously seizing the other girl's hand forsupport. The light seemed to come from some place far above and as theireyes grew accustomed to it they could discern a passage about three feetin width and fourteen feet long, which occupied the center of the wall.At the right, a flight of steps led upward, and to their left the placewas occupied by some chairs and stools. Against the walls were severalnarrow shelves, easily reached by one standing upright.
"Why, they have left the place furnished, just as it was when SenorCristoval first showed it to me," said Mildred. "The mattings andupholstery must be ready to fall to pieces, by this time; but you see,Inez, I was right about the secret rooms."
Just then little Jane wakened with a lusty cry.
"See to the baby," said Mildred quickly, and the Mexican girlreluctantly turned away to obey.
Mildred remained in the recess, thoughtfully eyeing the various antiqueobjects which had been allowed to remain there, some of which were ofreal value. She reflected that the last Cristoval had doubtless passedaway without disclosing the secret of the wall to anyone, and hisexecutors, in selling the mansion, had been quite unaware that anythingwas hidden in the adobe wall. Without doubt the property might now bejustly claimed by the new owner, Arthur Weldon, and this thought madeMildred flush with eager resolve to take full advantage of her presentopportunity. For here was the consummation of her hopes; here was therealization of the important plan which had brought her to SouthernCalifornia and to this house.
Inez had caught the baby from its cradle and, holding a bottle of freshmilk-food to its lips to comfort it, again advanced through the opening.Mildred had stepped a few paces along the passage and Inez, the baby inher arms, started to join her.
At that moment she heard a sound in the court, as of some oneapproaching, and to avoid letting others know of this fascinating secretthe girl thoughtlessly grasped the adobe door with her free hand andswung it shut behind her.
It closed with a sharp "click!" and Mildred, hearing the sound, turnedwith a low cry of fear.
"Great heavens, what have you done?" she exclaimed in tense tones andbrushing the Mexican aside she threw her whole weight against the wall.It did not yield a hair's breadth.
Inez, with terror in her eyes, stared at her companion.
"Is it lock?" she whispered.
Mildred pushed again, straining every muscle. Then she bent and examinedthe wall. It was easy to see, from this side, where the series of threeblocks were firmly joined together. Also the butts of three huge ironhinges protruded slightly into the passage. There could be no mistake.The closing of the door had made them prisoners.