Chapter XVI
_Ad Interim_
I never sent for Warriner to come and discuss Eunice Trevor'sastonishing communication. Why? Well, what would have been the use?After all, the woman had told us little or nothing which we had notknown already; certainly, there was no definite information in herstatement upon which to base a working hypothesis. Granted that therewas a guilty secret, it lay hidden for all time in S. Saviour'schurchyard. Both Eunice Trevor and John Thaneford may have been innocentof any actual participation in the tragedy of Francis Graeme's death,but it was by no means clear that they could not have taken steps toprevent it. The coroner's jury had given their verdict, the magistratehad found no case against the one suspected person, Dave Campion, andthere was really no valid warrant for reopening the inquiry. Besides,this was a purely family affair, and Chalmers Warriner was an outsider.I dare say it was despicably small-minded of me, but Betty was now mywife, and both she and Warriner ought to realize that the intimacybetween them could not be continued on the old free footing. Jealous.Well perhaps, I was uneasily conscious of an unworthy feeling in thematter. But I was master of "Hildebrand Hundred," and surely I had theright to determine what friendships were desirable and what were not.Warriner was a man of mature age, Betty was young and impulsive; it wasmy bounden duty to guard her from every sidelong look, from everywhispered word. Not that I ever discussed the question with her; Imerely took my stand and it was her wifely obligation to yield to myjudgment. So far as I could tell, she never even noticed that Warrinerno longer came to the "Hundred" in the old informal way. And that was asit should be.
But the issues raised by Eunice Trevor's statement were not to be setaside so easily. It was annoying, but Betty persisted in taking the deadwoman's warning both literally and seriously; she actually begged me toformally abandon the "Hundred" to John Thaneford, as the legalnext-of-kin, and perhaps leave Maryland altogether.
This I could not consent to do; I was too proud, or perhaps toostubborn, to be frightened by the vaporings of a highly wrought andundoubtedly neurotic imagination. There was not the shadow of a proofthat Francis Graeme's death had been due to premeditated violence, andas for the alleged tragedies in the dim past, I neither knew nor caredanything about them. What if five men had died, under unexplainedcircumstances, in that particular room? All this was ancient historyrunning back over a period of sixty odd years, and there are manycoincidences in life. There is no greater tyranny than that ofsuperstition, and once in bondage to its shadowy overlordship orderlyexistence becomes impossible.
But my decision had been finally influenced by a still strongerconsideration. As I have said a little further back, I had unconsciouslybecome attached to the "Hundred" by ties that I now found it impossibleto break. This was my home and the home of my fathers before me; I nowfound myself an integral part of the ancestral homestead, my life hadrooted deeply into the very soil, with its sacred dust my own corporealremains must finally be mingled; no, I could not suffer "HildebrandHundred" to pass out of my hands, and I would hold it against everyenemy visible and invisible. Even granting that something deadly andmenacing did lurk in the dim corners of that great room with its paintedwindows and booklined walls, was I not man enough to grapple with theTerror on its own chosen ground? Better to die even as my Hildebrandforebears had died, alone and unafraid, than to drag out a coward'sexistence in some wretched backwater of life. Yes, I had decided; Iwould stay on at the "Hundred," _coute qui coute_.
It was not so easy to maintain my resolve in the face of Betty's quietbut determined opposition. I could make every allowance for thesuccessive shocks to her delicately organized nervous system, and mereprayers and tears I was ready to cope with. But there was an invinciblespirit in her attitude that I could not shake. "It is a part of my innersense," she would reiterate with gentle obstinacy, and how can one arguerationally with feminine intuitions!
In the end we compromised--as always. It was agreed that we shouldcontinue to live on at the "Hundred," but the library should bepermanently and effectually closed. Betty even proposed that a brickwall should be built at the end of the passage entirely blocking theentrance, but to this heroic measure I steadfastly refused to assent; itwas enough of a nuisance to lose the use of the best room in the house,and to be obliged to transfer the working part of the library to the newliving room. So we compromised again by locking the door and keeping allthe keys in my immediate possession. In addition, I had to promise thatI would not enter the room unless my wife was told of my intention andinvited to accompany me. "At least we'll die together," said Betty,trying to smile through her tears. What could I do but kiss them away,and give the required assurance.
In October of that same year our son was born. Of course Betty insistedthat he should be christened Hugh, and while I have always thought thename an ugly one and should have preferred Lawrence, after the firstAmerican Hildebrand, it would have been most ungracious to have enteredany demurrer. But when Betty furthermore suggested that ChalmersWarriner be invited to stand as godfather I made plausible objections infavor of Doctor Marcy. I fancied that she seemed unaccountablydisappointed, but she yielded when she realized that my preference was adecided one. However, Warriner was present at the ceremony in S.Saviour's, and endowed the baby with a magnificent silver mug. Thatparticular gift should have been the prerogative of the titulargodfather, but Doctor Marcy did not seem inclined to stand upon hisrights, and I could not act the churl in so small a matter. And so thisepochal phase of my life had come to a triumphant close; possessed of"Hildebrand Hundred," a son to inherit my name, and the best wife in theworld. What more could heart of man desire!