, 1911-01-12
CHAPTER XXI.
Anne Watson,. story.

Anne Watson's story.
Ldddy discovered the fresh break
In the trunkroom wall while we were
at luncheon, and ran shrieking down
h stairs. She maintained that, as
she entered. unseen hands had been
digging at the plaster; that they had
stopped when she went in. and she
had felt a gust of cold damp air. In
support of her story she carried in
my wet n muddy boots, that / had
unluckily forgotten to hide, and held
them out to the detective and myself.
What did I tell your" she said
dramatically. Look at EN-. They're
yours. Miss Rachel-and covered with
mud and soaked to the tops. / tell
you, o can scoff all you like; some
thing has been wearing your shoes.
AS sure as you sit there, there's the
smell of the graveyard on them. How
do we know they weren't tramping
through the Casanova churchyard last
night. and sitting on the graves!"
Mr.. Jameson almost choked to
death. 81 wouldn't be at all surprised
If they were doing hat very thing,
Liddy." he said. when he got his
breath. ''They certainly look like it."
think the detective had q plan
on which he was working, but which
was meant to be a coup But things
went SO fast there was no time to
carry 1t into effect. The first thing
that occurred was q message from
the Charity hospital that Mrs. Wat
son was dying and had asked for me
/ did not care much about going.
There is a sort Of melancholy plea.
sure to be had out of q funeral, with
its pomp and ceremony, but I shrank
from a ~death-bed. However, Liddy
got out the black things and the crepe
veil l keep for such occasions, and /
went. i left Mr.. Jameson and the
day detective going over every inch
OF the circular staircase, pounding.
probing and measuring. I was inward
ly elated to think Of the surprise I was
going to give them hat night; as 1t
turned out, I did surprise them-al.
most into spasms.
drove from the train to the Chart
ty hospital. and was at once taken
to a ward. There, In a gray.walled
room in a high iron bed, lay Mrs. Wat.
son. She was very weak, and she
only opened her eyes and looked at
me when / sat down beside her. I
was conscience-stricken. We had been
so engrossed that I had left this door
creature to die without even q word
of sympathy.
The nurse gave hor n stimulant,
and in a little while she was able TO
talk. So broken and half-ooherent,
however. was her story that I shall
ELL 1t in my own way. In an hour
from the time ! entered the Charity
hospital l had heard a sad and pitiful
narrative, n had seen a woman ain
into the Inconsistencies that in only
a step from death.
Briefly, then, the housekseper's
story was this:
She was almost 10 years old, and
had been the sister-mother of a large
family of children. One by one they
had died, and been buried beside their
parents in a little town In the middle
west. There was only one sister left
the baby, Lucy. On her the older girl
had lavished all the love Of an impul.
sive and emotional nature. When
Anne, the elder. was SO and Lucy 10
a young man had come to the town
He was going east. after spending the
summer at a celebrated ranch In Wv.
oming-one Of those places where
wealthy men send worthless and dis
sipated sons for a season OF temper.
ance, fresh air and hunting. The
sisters. Of course. knew nothing OF
this, and the young mans ardor rath.
or carried them away. In q word.
seven years before, Lucy Haswell had
q young man whose name was
given a. Aubrey Wallace.
Anne Haswsll had married q oar.
pentsr In her native town and was a
For three months everything
vent fairly well. Aubrey took his
bride to Chicago, where they lived at
hotel. Perhaps the very unsophistI.
cation that had charmed him In Val.
ley Mill Jared on him In the city. He
had been far from q model husband.
even for h three months, and when
disappeared Anne was almost
thankful. 1t was different with the
Young wife, however. She dropped
and frettsd. and on the birth Of her