The Circular Staircase - Page 84/154

The evening dragged along slowly. Mrs. Watson came to my bedroom

before I went to bed and asked if I had any arnica. She showed me a

badly swollen hand, with reddish streaks running toward the elbow; she

said it was the hand she had hurt the night of the murder a week

before, and that she had not slept well since. It looked to me as if

it might be serious, and I told her to let Doctor Stewart see it.

The next morning Mrs. Watson went up to town on the eleven train, and

was admitted to the Charity Hospital. She was suffering from

blood-poisoning. I fully meant to go up and see her there, but other

things drove her entirely from my mind. I telephoned to the hospital

that day, however, and ordered a private room for her, and whatever

comforts she might be allowed.

Mrs. Armstrong arrived Monday evening with her husband's body, and the

services were set for the next day. The house on Chestnut Street, in

town, had been opened, and Tuesday morning Louise left us to go home.

She sent for me before she went, and I saw she had been crying.

"How can I thank you, Miss Innes?" she said. "You have taken me on

faith, and--you have not asked me any questions. Some time, perhaps, I

can tell you; and when that time comes, you will all despise

me,--Halsey, too."

I tried to tell her how glad I was to have had her but there was

something else she wanted to say. She said it finally, when she had

bade a constrained good-by to Halsey and the car was waiting at the

door.

"Miss Innes," she said in a low tone, "if they--if there is any attempt

made to--to have you give up the house, do it, if you possibly can. I

am afraid--to have you stay."

That was all. Gertrude went into town with her and saw her safely

home. She reported a decided coolness in the greeting between Louise

and her mother, and that Doctor Walker was there, apparently in charge

of the arrangements for the funeral. Halsey disappeared shortly after

Louise left and came home about nine that night, muddy and tired. As

for Thomas, he went around dejected and sad, and I saw the detective

watching him closely at dinner. Even now I wonder--what did Thomas

know? What did he suspect?

At ten o'clock the household had settled down for the night. Liddy, who

was taking Mrs. Watson's place, had finished examining the tea-towels

and the corners of the shelves in the cooling-room, and had gone to

bed. Alex, the gardener, had gone heavily up the circular staircase to

his room, and Mr. Jamieson was examining the locks of the windows.

Halsey dropped into a chair in the living-room, and stared moodily

ahead. Once he roused.