The Mystery of the Hasty Arrow

  XXVI

  THE FACE IN THE WINDOW

  "Is this the place?"

  "According to our instructions, yes. The first house after the firstturn to the right. We took the first turn, and this is the first house.Romantic situation, eh? But a bit lonesome for a city chap? Shall I helpyou down?"

  While talking, Sweetwater, who was already in the road, held up his elbowto Mr. Gryce, who slowly descended. It was early morning, and the gloryof sunshine was everywhere misleading the eye from the ravages of thenight before; yet neither of these two men wore an air in keeping withthe freshness of renewed life and the joyous aspect of exultant nature.There seemed to be an oppression upon them both--a hesitation not commonto either, and to all appearance without cause.

  To end what he probably considered a weakness, Sweetwater approachedthe door staring somewhat blankly from the flat front of the primitiveold house whose privacy they were about to invade, and rapped on itsweather-beaten panels, first gently and then with quick insistence.

  There was no response from within; no sound of movement; no token that hehad been so much as heard. Sweetwater turned and consulted his companionbefore making another attempt.

  "It's early. Perhaps she's not up yet," rejoined the old detective as hepainfully advanced. The storm of the preceding night had got into hisbones.

  "I don't know. There's something uncanny about this silence. She ought tobe here; but I'm afraid she isn't." Sweetwater rapped again, this timewith decided vehemence.

  Suddenly in one of the uncurtained windows a face appeared. They saw it,and both drew a deep breath. The eyes were looking their way, but theywere like ghost's eyes. Without sight or speculation in them, they simplylooked; then the face slowly withdrew, growing ghastlier every minute,and the window stared on, but the woman was gone. Yet the door did notopen.

  "I hate to use force," objected Sweetwater.

  Before answering, Mr. Gryce stepped to one side and cast a glance aroundthe corner of the house in the direction of the gorge opening in therear.

  "There is something like a yard at the back," he announced, "but thefence which shut it in is so high and so protected by means of pricklyunderbrush that you would have difficulty in climbing it."

  "Just so at this end," called out Sweetwater after a short run to theleft. "If we get in at all," he remarked on coming back, "it will have tobe by the window you see there with one pane knocked out."

  "I don't like that; I don't like any of it. But we can't stay out hereany longer. The looks of the woman herself forbid it. We sha'n't forgetthat hollow stare."

  "They said the woman who lived here was dead."

  "Yes. It's a bad business, Sweetwater. Rap once more, and then if shedoesn't come, throw up the window and climb in."

  Sweetwater did as he was bid, and meeting with no more response thanbefore, thrust his hand through the hole made by the broken pane; andfinding the window had been left unlocked, he pushed it up and entered.In another moment he appeared at the front door, where Mr. Gryce joinedhim, and together they took their first look at the small butsurprisingly well-furnished interior.

  The hall in which they stood was without staircase and had many of theappointments of a room. Doors opened here and there along its length, andin the rear they saw a closed one evidently leading into the yard. Therewas no one within sight. One would have said that with the death andcarrying out of the owner of this little dwelling, all life had departedfrom it. Yet these two men knew that life was there; and raising hisvoice, Mr. Gryce called out in the least alarming way possible:

  "Madame Duclos!" following this utterance of her name with an apology forthe intrusion and a prayer for one minute's interview.

  Silence was his answer--no stir anywhere.

  Apprehensive of they knew not what, the two detectives startedsimultaneously, one for the door on their right, the other for that onthe left. When they met again in the ill-lighted hall, Mr. Gryce wasshaking his head, but Sweetwater had lifted a beckoning finger.Unconsciously moderating his step, Mr. Gryce followed him through oneroom to the door of another which he saw standing partly open.

  Through the crack thus made between the hinges, they could get a veryfair glimpse of what was going on inside. They saw a bed, and a womankneeling beside this bed, her eyes upraised in prayer. The look which hadawed them at the window was gone, and in its place was one so high and sofull of religious faith that for an instant they were conscious of thereversal of all their ideas.

  But only for an instant; for while they waited, hesitating to break inupon her evidently sincere devotions, she started to her feet and with ahalf-insane look about her, disappeared from their view in the directionof the hall.

  Sweetwater was after her in a twinkling; but by the time he and Mr.Gryce, each going his separate way, had themselves reached the hall, itwas to see the end door--the one giving upon the plateau--closing behindher.

  "Madame!" called out Sweetwater, bounding briskly in her wake.

  Mr. Gryce said nothing but approached with hastening steps the door whichSweetwater had left open behind him, and took a quick survey of thefenced-in plateau, the bridge and the towering trees beyond, toward whichshe seemed to be making.

  "She cannot escape," was his ready conclusion; and he shouted toSweetwater to go easy.

  Sweetwater, who was in the act of setting foot upon the bridge down whichshe was running, slacked up at this command and presently stopped, forshe had stopped herself and was looking back from a spot about halfwayacross, with the air of one willing, at last, to hear what they had tosay.

  "Who are you?" she cried. "And what do you want of me?"

  "Are you not Madame Duclos?"

  "Yes, I am Antoinette Duclos."

  "Then you must know why you are wanted by the police authorities of NewYork. Your daughter--"

  Her hand went up.

  "I've nothing to say--nothing. Will you take that for your answer and letme go?"

  "Alas, madam, we cannot!" spoke up Mr. Gryce in his calm, benevolent way."Miss Duclos' death was of a nature demanding an inquest. Your testimony,hard as it may be for you to give it, is necessary for a righteousverdict. That is all we want--"

  "It is too much!" she cried. And with a quick glance upward she tookanother step or two along the bridge till she had reached the brokenrail; and before Sweetwater in his dismay could more than give ahorrified bound in her direction, she had made the fatal leap and wasgone from their sight into the gorge below.

  BOOK IV

  NEMESIS