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The Man with a Shadow
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“Where does she go, then?”
“Can’t you guess, gran’fa?”
“Nay. Yes. Up to the Hall.”
“Where the servants would find it out? No; they’re too cunning for that.”
“Where then?” cried the old man, chuckling, and evidently enjoying it all.
“Why, to a place where nobody would go of a night – where it would all be quiet and still, and people would be afraid to walk for fear of seeing ghosts. Where would that be, gran’fa?”
Old Moredock’s jaw dropped, and he gazed down at his grandchild in a startled way.
“Not to the old morslem?” he whispered, in an awe-stricken tone.
“Pooh! No; but next door to it.”
“Not to my church, gel?”
“Not quite, gran’fa; but to the vestry.”
“What?”
“Yes, gran’fa,” whispered Dally excitedly. “Leo Salis gets out of the window and goes straight to the vestry, and meets Tom Candlish there night after night.”
“And she gets parson’s keys, and goes in at the south door, and through the porch, and ’long the south aisle, and then across to the chancel?”
“Yes, gran’fa, with a great veil all over her head; but how did you know?”
“Why, you’re telling me, arn’t you?” said the old man testily, as he recalled the draped head he had seen hastily gliding above the pews. “And Squire Tom?”
“He goes across the meadows and over the churchyard wall, and in at the vestry door by the big vault.”
“Does he, though?” said Moredock, with his jaw dropped still more; “and how does he get the keys? – of course, he’s churchwarden! Hah! nice game in my church! Tchah!” he cried, after a pause. “Stuff! You dreamt it.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t,” said Dally. “I watched her, and saw her go. And another night I watched and followed, and I saw a man go up to the Candlish vault.”
“Eh! You saw that?” cried the old man, catching the girl’s arm.
She nodded.
“Who was it, eh? Not me?”
“You? No, gran’fa!”
“Nor the doctor?”
“The doctor? No! It was my Tom Candlish!”
“Are you sure, gel?”
“I am now, gran’fa; I wasn’t then. I half thought it was the doctor, and I did hope it was him. It was so dark, I couldn’t quite be sure; and he stopped by the gate in the iron railings and looked about so that I daren’t go and make sure.”
“Phew!” whistled the old man, dropping his pipe and wiping his brow as the fragile stem broke into atoms. “And you there, Dally, watching?”
“Yes, gran’fa; for I was, oh, so jealous!”
“And you’re not sure now?”
“Yes I am, gran’fa; for I made sure.”
“You went again – in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, gran’fa. I got out of my bedroom window next time and went first.”
“And you saw them go. Did you see – ?”
The old man stopped short.
“No, I didn’t see much, gran’fa; but I heard. I went into the church.”
“How did you get in?”
“Through one of the lead windows, as I’ve often climbed through when I was a little girl; and then went into the vestry and up the screw stairs, and into the little place in the loft.”
“How did you get the key?”
“How did I get the key? Why, I came and took it from here.”
“You jade.”
“And you came and caught me.”
“Did you take anything else?”
“No, gran’fa, of course not,” cried the girl. “I was obliged to do it. Then I waited till I could just see Leo Salis come in along the church, and she passed under me and went into the vestry.”
“Sure?”
“Sure? Of course I am; and then I stole down the screw stairs and waited by the door till I heard him come in from the churchyard.”
“And me about there in the morslem all the time!” muttered Moredock. “Well,” he added aloud, “was it young Squire Tom?”
“Yes, gran’fa; it was him, safe enough, and it was Leo Salis, and she scolded him for being so late, and they stopped together for ever so long; him smoking.”
“Smoking?”
“Yes; I heard him strike a match, and I could smell it – a wretch!”
Другие электронные книги автора George Fenn
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