Part 14 (2/2)
Within thirty seconds the handle was tried by some one on the other side.
”That settles it,” observed Isabel to herself. ”I didn't look at the face in the miniature so closely as all that, it was the setting which occupied me. I might have mistaken the likeness, and it mightn't have been Margaret Wallace after all. But the style in which she turned that handle gives her away. She's come in and out of this house too often not to be aware that, even if the door does happen to be shut, you've only got to turn the handle to come in. When she found that it wouldn't open, I'll bet that she had a bit of a shock. Holloa! it seems that she can't believe it now. I daresay it's the first time in all her life that she's found that door closed against her.”
Something of the kind did seem possible. The person on the other side was giving the handle various twists and turns, as if unable to credit that the door was actually locked. It was only after continued efforts that the fact was realised. There was an interval, as if the person without was considering the position.
”Now what'll she do?” wondered Isabel. ”Go round to the back, and see if she can't get in that way? She won't think it a possible thing that both doors can be locked. The odds are that she's come in one way as often as the other. She won't come in that way this time, and so I'll show her.”
On stealthy feet Isabel, stealing to the back of the house, both locked and bolted the door which gave ingress to the house on that side. As she was ramming the top bolt home a bell clanged through the house followed by the rat-tat-tat of a knocker.
”So she's concluded not to give herself the trouble of trying the back door, at least for the present. Now what'll I do? One thing's sure, I'm not going to be in any haste to answer either her ringing or her knocking. Possibly if no one does answer she'll be tricked into thinking the house is empty.” The bell and knocker were audible again.
”She's pretty impatient; she doesn't give a person over-much time to answer, even if one wanted to. What a row that bell does make--sounds as if it were rusty. I daresay it isn't rung more than once a year. It'll startle those two upstairs--it's a time since they heard it. There she is again. She'll hurt that bell if she isn't careful. I'd like to hurt her--if she doesn't watch out I will before she's finished. That's right, my dear, give another pull at it! Pretty rough on Grahame. If he only knew who was ringing what wouldn't he give to get at her--especially if he understood that this is the only chance he'll ever have; and to have to lie there like a log, and let it slip between his fingers! As for Nannie--that old woman's got the nose of a bloodhound--I shouldn't be surprised if she smells who's at the door. If she does I shouldn't wonder if, broken leg or no broken leg, she tumbles out of bed and tries to get down somehow to open it. She hadn't better. She'll break it again if she does--if I have to help her do it! No one's going to interfere with that door but me! I'm not going to have her hammering and clanging till those two girls come back, that won't suit my book at all. And as she looks like doing it the sooner I get rid of her the better.”
The upper panels of the front door were of coloured gla.s.s, the panes, which were of different hues, shapes and sizes, being set in leaden frames. While it was possible for whoever was within to obtain a vague impression of some one without, it was impossible for whoever was without to see anything of the person within. It was of this fact that the quick-witted Isabel proposed to take advantage. Among the various accomplishments which fitted her, in her opinion, to s.h.i.+ne in the halls was that of mimicry. Drawing close up to the gla.s.s panels she exclaimed, in tones which were intended to represent the broken-legged Nannie's--
”Who's that as wants to break the bell of a decent body's house?”
That the a.s.sumption was not entirely unsuccessful was shown by the response which came instantly from the other side of the door.
”Is that you, Nannie? You silly old thing! Where have you been? What have you been doing? And why have you locked this door?--open it at once!”
”And to whom will I open it, please?”
There came a peal of girlish laughter as a prelude to this reply.
”Nannie, you are an old stupid! Do you mean to say that you don't recognise my voice as well as I do yours? Why, I'm Meg come back to see you again!--open the door at once, you goose!”
”I'll no open the door this day.”
”Nannie!”
”Margaret Wallace, I tell you I'll no open the door for you this day, so back you go from where you came.”
”Nannie! how can you speak to me like that! How dare you!”
”I'm but obeying Mr. Cuthbert's orders, and it's not fear of you that'll stay me from doing that.”
”Do you mean to tell me that Cuthbert Grahame forbade you to let me into the house?”
”He did a great deal more. He said that if you ever came near it he'd bring half-a-dozen dogs to set them at you. So take yourself off, and be quick about it.”
”But, Nannie, I don't understand.”
”None of your lies! It's plain enough! So be off to where you're wanted--if it's anywhere.”
”But, Nannie, what have I done that you should speak to me like this? You always used to take my part.”
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