按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
It was only a bottle of red ink she had upset … that was all！ How could she have thought it was anything else？
It was the more silly of her … so she told herself in scornful condemnation … because she knew that the lodger used red ink。 Certain pages of Cruden's Concordance were covered with notes written in Mr。 Sleuth's peculiar upright handwriting。 In fact in some places you couldn't see the margin； so closely covered was it with remarks and notes of interrogation。
Mr Sleuth had foolishly placed his bottle of red ink in the chiffonnier … that was what her poor； foolish gentleman had done； and it was owing to her inquisitiveness； her restless wish to know things she would be none the better； none the happier； for knowing； that this accident had taken place。
She mopped up with her duster the few drops of ink which had fallen on the green carpet and then； still feeling； as she angrily told herself； foolishly upset she went once more into the back room。
It was curious that Mr。 Sleuth possessed no notepaper。 She would have expected him to have made that one of his first purchases … the more so that paper is so very cheap； especially that rather dirty…looking grey Silurian paper。 Mrs。 Buntlng had once lived with a lady who always used two kinds of notepaper； white for her friends and equals； grey for those whom she called 〃common people。〃 She； Ellen Green； as she then was； had always resented the fact。 Strange she should remember it now； stranger in a way because that employer of her's had not been a real lady； and Mr。 Sleuth； whatever his peculiarities； was； in every sense of the word； a real gentleman。 Somehow Mrs。 Bunting felt sure that if he had bought any notepaper it would have been white … white and probably cream…laid … not grey and cheap。
Again she opened the drawer of the old…fashioned wardrobe and lifted up the few pieces of underclothing Mr。 Sleuth now possessed。
But there was nothing there … nothing； that is； hidden away。 When one came to think of it there seemed something strange in the notion of leaving all one's money where anyone could take it； and in locking up such a valueless thing as a cheap sham leather bag； to say nothing of a bottle of ink。
Mrs。 Bunting once more opened out each of the tiny drawers below the looking…glass； each delicately fashioned of fine old mahogany。 Mr。 Sleuth kept his money in the centre drawer。
The glass had only cost seven…and…sixpence； and； after the auction a dealer had come and offered her first fifteen shillings； and then a guinea for it。 Not long ago； in Baker Street； she had seen a looking…glass which was the very spit of this one； labeled 〃Chippendale； Antique。 ？15s0d。〃
There lay Mr。 Sleuth's money … the sovereigns； as the landlady well knew； would each and all gradually pass into her's and Bunting's possession； honestly earned by them no doubt but unattainable … in act unearnable … excepting in connection with the present owner of those dully shining gold sovereigns。
At last she went downstairs to await Mr。 Sleuth's return。
When she heard the key turn in the door； she came out into the passage。
〃I'm sorry to say I've had an accident； sir；〃 she said a little breathlessly。 〃Taking advantage of your being out I went up to dust the drawing…room； and while I was trying to get behind the chiffonnier it tilted。 I'm afraid； sir； that a bottle of ink that was inside may have got broken； for just a few drops oozed out； sir。 But I hope there's no harm done。 I wiped it up as well as I could； seeing that the doors of the chiffonnier are locked。〃
Mr。 Sleuth stared at her with a wild； almost a terrified glance。 But Mrs。 Bunting stood her ground。 She felt far less afraid now than she had felt before he came in。 Then she had been so frightened that she had nearly gone out of the house； on to the pavement； for company。
〃Of course I had no idea； sir； that you kept any ink in there。〃
She spoke as if she were on the defensive； and the lodger's brow cleared。
〃I was aware you used ink； sir；〃 Mrs。 Bunting went on； 〃for I have seen you marking that book of yours … I mean the book you read together with the Bible。 Would you like me to go out and get you another bottle； sir？〃
〃No；〃 said Mr。 Sleuth。 〃No； I thank you。 I will at once proceed upstairs and see what damage has been done。 When I require you I shall ring。〃
He shuffled past her； and five minutes later the drawing…room bell did ring。
At once； from the door； Mrs。 Bunting saw that the chiffonnier was wide open； and that the shelves were empty save for the bottle of red ink which had turned over and now lay in a red pool of its own making on the lower shelf。
〃I'm afraid it will have stained the wood； Mrs。 Bunting。 Perhaps I was ill…advised to keep my ink in there。〃
〃Oh； no； sir！ That doesn't matter at all。 Only a drop or two fell out on to the carpet； and they don't show； as you see； sir； for it's a dark corner。 Shall I take the bottle away？ I may as well。〃
Mr。 Sleuth hesitated。 〃No；〃 he said； after a long pause； 〃I think not； Mrs。 Bunting。 For the very little I require it the ink remaining in the bottle will do quite well； especially if I add a little water； or better still； a little tea； to what already remains in the bottle。 I only require it to mark up passages which happen to be of peculiar interest in my Concordance … a work； Mrs。 Bunting； which I should have taken great pleasure in compiling myself had not this … ah … this gentleman called Cruden； been before。
******
Not only Bunting； but Daisy also； thought Ellen far pleasanter in her manner than usual that evening。 She listened to all they had to say about their interesting visit to the Black Museum； and did not snub either of them … no； not even when Bunting told of the dreadful； haunting； silly…looking death…masks taken from the hanged。
But a few minutes after that； when her husband suddenly asked her a question； Mrs。 Bunting answered at random。 It was clear she had not heard the last few words he had been saying。
〃A penny for your thoughts！〃 he said jocularly。 But she shook her head。
Daisy slipped out of the room； and； five minutes later； came back dressed up in a blue…and…white check silk gown。
〃My！〃 said her father。 〃You do look fine； Daisy。 I've never seen you wearing that before。〃
〃And a rare figure of fun she looks in it！〃 observed Mrs。 Bunting sarcastically。 And then； 〃I suppose this dressing up means that you're expecting someone。 I should have thought both of you must have seen enough of young Chandler for one day。 I wonder when that young chap does his work … that I do！ He never seems too busy to come and waste an hour or two here。〃
But that was the only nasty thing Ellen said all that evening。 And even Daisy noticed that her stepmother seemed dazed and unlike herself。 She went about her cooking and the various little things she had to do even more silently than was her wont。
Yet under that still； almost sullen； manner； how fierce was the storm of dread； of sombre； anguish； and； yes； of sick suspense； which shook her soul； and which so far affected her poor； ailing body that often she felt as if she could not force herself to accomplish her simple round of daily work。
After they had finished supper Bunting went out and bought a penny evening paper； but as he came in he announced； with a rather' rueful smile； that he had read so much of that nasty little print this last week or two that his eyes hurt him。
〃Let me read aloud a bit to you； father；〃 said Daisy eagerly； and he handed her the paper。
Scarcely had Daisy opened her lips when a loud ring and a knock echoed through the house。
CHAPTER XI
It was only Joe。 Somehow； even Bunting called him 〃Joe〃 now； and no longer 〃Chandler；〃 as he had mostly used to do。
Mrs。 Bunting had opened the front door only a very little way。 She wasn't going to have any strangers pushing in past her。
To her sharpened； suffering senses her house had become a citadel which must be defended； aye； even if the besiegers were a mighty horde with right on their side。 And she was always expecting that first single spy who would herald the battalion against whom her only weapon would be her woman's wit and cunning。
But when she saw who stood there smiling at her； the muscles of her face relaxed； and it lost the tense； anxious； almost agonised look it assumed the moment she turned her back on her husband and stepdaughter。
〃Why； Joe；〃 she whispered； for she had left the door open behind her； and Daisy had already begun to read aloud； as her father had bidden her。 〃Come in； do！ It's fairly cold to…night。〃
A glance at his face had shown her that there was no fresh news。
Joe Chandler walked in； past her； into the little hall。 Cold？ Well； he didn't feel cold； for he had walked quickly to be the sooner where he was now。
Nine days had gone by since that last terrible occurrence； the double murder which had been committed early in the morning of the day Daisy had arrived in London。 And though the thousands of men belonging to the Metropolitan Police … to say nothing of the smaller； more alert body of detectives attached to the Force … were keenly on the alert； not one but had begun to feel that there was