sally dows-第35部分

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to…night　with　some　of　your　adventuressomething　told　SERIOUSLY；
you　know；　as　if　you　really　were　in　earnestI'd　be　awfully　obliged
to　you。　　The　fact　is；you'll　excuse　me；but　they　think　you　don't
come　up　to　your　reputation。〃

〃They　want　a　story？〃

〃Yes；one　of　your　experiences。〃

〃I'll　give　them　one。　　Ta…ta！〃

For　the　rest　of　the　day　Uncle　Sylvester　was　invisible；　although　his
active　presence　in　his　room　was　betrayed　by　the　sound　of　hammering
and　moving　of　furniture。　　As　the　remainder　of　the　party　were
skating　on　the　lake；　this　eccentricity　was　not　remarked　except　by
one；Marie　du　Page；who　on　pretense　of　a　slight　cold　had　stayed
at　home。　　But　with　her　suspicions　of　the　former　night；　she　had
determined　to　watch　the　singular　relative　of　her　friend。　　Added
to　a　natural　loyalty　to　the　Lanes；　she　was　moved　by　a　certain
curiosity　and　fascination　towards　this　incomprehensible　man。

The　house　was　very　quiet　when　she　stole　out　of　her　room　and　passed
softly　along　the　corridor；　she　examined　the　wall　carefully　to
discover　anything　that　might　have　excited　the　visitor's　attention。
There　were　a　few　large　engravings　hanging　there；　could　he　have
designed　to　replace　them　by　some　others？　　Suddenly　she　was　struck
with　the　distinct　conviction　that　the　wall　of　the　corridor　did　not
coincide　with　the　wall　of　his　room　as　represented　by　the　line　of
the　door。　　There　was　certainly　a　space　between　the　two　walls
unaccounted　for。　　This　was　undoubtedly　what　had　attracted　HIS
attention；　but　what　BUSINESS　was　it　of　his？

She　reflected　that　she　had　seen　in　the　wall　of　the　conservatory　an
old　closed　staircase；　now　used　as　shelves　for　dried　herbs　and
seeds；　which　she　had　been　told　was　the　old…time　communication
between　the　garden　and　Grandfather　Lane's　study；the　room　now
occupied　by　the　stranger。　　Perhaps　it　led　still　farther；　and　thus
accounted　for　the　space。　　Determined　to　satisfy　herself；　she
noiselessly　descended　to　the　conservatory。　　There；　surely；　was　the
staircase；a　narrow　flight　of　wooden　steps　encumbered　with
packages　of　herbs；losing　itself　in　upper　darkness。　　By　the　aid　of
a　candle　she　managed　to　grope　and　pick　her　way　up　step　by　step。
Then　she　paused。　　The　staircase　had　abruptly　ended　on　the　level　of
the　study；　now　cut　off　from　it　by　the　new　partition。　　She　was　in　a
stifling　inclosure；　formed　by　the　walls；　scarcely　eighteen　inches
wide。　　It　was　made　narrower　by　a　singular　excrescence　on　the　old
wall；　which　seemed　to　have　been　a　bricked　closet；　now　half
destroyed　and　in　ruins。　　She　turned　to　descend；　when　a　strange
sound　from　Uncle　Sylvester's　room　struck　her　ear。　　It　was　the　sound
of　tapping　on　the　floor　close　to　the　partition；　within　a　foot　of
where　she　was　standing。　　At　the　same　moment　there　was　a　decided
movement　of　the　plank　of　the　flooring　beneath　the　partition：　it
began　to　slide　slowly；　and　then　was　gradually　withdrawn　into　the
room。　　With　prompt　presence　of　mind；　she　instantly　extinguished　her
candle　and　drew　herself　breathlessly　against　the　partition。

When　the　plank　was　entirely　withdrawn；　a　ray　of　light　slipped
through　the　opening；　revealing　the　bare　rafters　of　the　floor；　and　a
hand　and　arm　inserted　under　the　partition；　groping　as　if　towards
the　bricked　closet。　　As　the　fingers　of　the　exploring　hand　were
widely　extended；　Marie　had　no　difficulty　in　recognizing　on　one　of
them　a　peculiar　signet　ring　which　Uncle　Sylvester　wore。　　A　swift
impulse　seized　her。　　To　the　audacious　Marie　impulse　and　action　were
the　same　thing。　　Bending　stealthily　over　the　aperture；　she　suddenly
snatched　the　ring　from　the　extended　finger。　　The　hand　was　quickly
withdrawn　with　a　start　and　uncontrolled　exclamation；　and　she
availed　herself　of　that　instant　to　glide　rapidly　down　the　stairs。

She　regained　her　room　stealthily；　having　the　satisfaction　a　moment
later　of　hearing　Uncle　Sylvester's　door　open　and　the　sound　of　his
footsteps　in　the　corridor。　　But　he　was　evidently　unable　to　discover
any　outer　ingress　to　the　inclosure；　or　believed　the　loss　of　his
ring　an　accident；　for　he　presently　returned。　　Meantime；　what　was
she　to　do？

Tell　Kitty　of　her　discovery；　and　show　the　ring？　　Nonot　yet！
Oddly　enough；　now　that　she　had　the　ring；　taken　from　his　wicked
finger　in　the　very　act；　she　found　it　as　difficult　as　ever　to
believe　in　his　burglarious　design。　　She　must　wait。　　The　mischief
if　there　had　been　mischiefwas　done；　the　breaking　in　of　the
bricked　closet　was；　from　the　appearance　of　the　ruins；　a　bygone　act。
Could　it　have　been　some　youthful　escapade　of　Uncle　Sylvester's；　the
scene　of　which　he　was　revisiting　as　criminals　are　compelled　to　do？
And　had　there　been　anything　taken　from　the　closetor　was　its
destruction　a　part　of　the　changes　in　the　old　house？　　How　could　she
find　out　without　asking　Kitty？　　There　was　one　way。　　She　remembered
that　Mr。　Gunn　had　once　shown　a　great　deal　of　interest　to　Kitty
about　the　old　homestead；　and　even　of　old　Mr。　Lane's　woodland　cabin。
She　would　ask　HIM。　　It　was　a　friendly　act；　for　Kitty　had　not　of
late　been　very　kind　to　him。

The　opportunity　presented　itself　at　dusk；　as　Mr。　Gunn；　somewhat
abstracted；　stood　apart　at　the　drawing…room　window。　　Marie　hoped
he　had　enjoyed　himself　while　skating；　her　stupid　cold　had　kept　her
indoors。　　She　had　amused　herself　rambling　about　the　old　homestead；
it　was　such　a　queer　place；　so　full　of　old　nooks　and　corners　and
unaccountable　spaces。　　Just　the　place；　she　would　think；　where　old
treasures　might　have　been　stored。　　Eh？

Mr。　Gunn　had　not　spokenhe　had　only　coughed。　　But　in　the　darkness
his　eyes　were　fixed　angrily　on　her　face。　　Without　observing　it；　she
went　on。　　She　knew　he　was　interested　in　the　old　house；　she　had
heard　him　talk　to　Kitty　about　it：　had　Kitty　ever　said　anything
about　some　old　secret　hoarding　place？

No；　certainly　not！　　And　she　was　mistaken；　he　never　was　interested
in　the　house！　　He　could　not　understand　what　had　put　that　idea　in
her　head！　　Unless　it　was　this　ridiculous；　shady　stranger　in　the
guise　of　an　uncle　whom　they　had　got　there。　　It　was　like　his
affectation！

〃Oh；　dear；　no；〃　said　Marie；　with　unmistakable　truthfulness；　〃HE　did
not　say　anything。　　But；〃　with　sudden　inconsistent　aggression；　〃is
THAT　the　way　you　speak　to　Kitty　of　her　uncle？〃

Really　he　didn't　knowhe　was　joking　only；　and　he　was　afraid　he
must　just　now　ask　her　to　excuse　him。　　He　had　received　letters　that
made　it　possible　that　he　might　be　called　suddenly　to　New　York　at
any　moment。　　Marie　stared。　　It　was　evident　that　he　had　proposed　to
Kitty　and　been　rejected！　　But　she　was　no　nearer　her　discovery。

Nor　was　there　the　least　revelation　in　the　calm；　half…bored；
yet　good…humored　presence　of　the　wicked　uncle　at　dinner。　　So
indifferent　did　he　seem；　not　only　to　his　own　villainy　but　even　to
the　loss　it　had　entailed；　that　she　had　a　wild　impulse　to　take　the
ring　from　her　pocket　and　display　it　on　her　own　finger　before　him
then　and　there。　　But　the　conviction　that　he　would　in　some　way　be
equal　to　the　occasion　prevented　her。　　The　dinner　passed　off　with
some　constraint；　no　doubt　emanating　from　the　conscious　Kitty　and
Gunn。　　Nevertheless；　when　they　had　returned　to　the　drawing…room；
Gabriel　rubbed　his　hands　expectantly。

〃I　prevailed　on　Sylvester　this　morning　to　promise　to　tell　us　some
of　his　experiencessomething　COMPLETE　and　satisfactory　this　time。
Eh？〃

Uncle　Sylvester；　warming　his　cold　blood　before　the　fire；　looked
momentarily　forgetful　anddisappointing。　　Cousins　Jane　and　Emma
shrugged　their　shoulders。

〃Eh；〃　said　Uncle　Sylvester　absently；　〃ereroh　yes！　　Well〃　（more
cheerfully）；　〃about　what；　eh？〃

〃Let　it　be；〃　said　Marie　pointedly；　fixing　her　black　magnetic　eyes
on　the　wicked　stranger；　〃let　it　be　something　about　the　DISCOVERY　of
gold；　or　a　buried　TREASURE　HOARD；　or　a　robbery。〃

To　her　intense　disgust　Uncle　Sylvester；　far　from　being　discomfited
or　confused；　actually　looked　pleased；　and　his　gray　eyes　thawed
slightly。

〃Certainly；〃　he　said。　　〃Well；　then！　　Down　on　the　San　Joaquin　River
there　was　an　old　chapone　of　the　earliest　settlersin　fact；　he'd
come　on　from　Oregon　before　the　gold　discovery。　　His　name；　dear
me！〃continued　Uncle　Sylvester；　with　an　effort　of　memory　and
apparently　beginning　already　to　lose　his　interest　in　the　story
〃waserFlint。〃

As　Uncle　Sylvester　paused　here；　Cousin　Jane　broke　in　impatiently。
〃Well；　that's　not　an　uncommon　name。　　There　was　an　old　carpenter
here　in　your　father's　time　who　was　called　Flint。〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Uncle　Sylvester　languidly。　　〃But　there　is；　or　was；
something　uncommon　about　itand　that's　the　point　of　the　story；　for
in　the　old　time　Flint　and　Gunn　were　of　the　same　stock。〃

〃Is　this　a　Californian　joke？〃　said　Gunn；　with　a　forced　smile　on　his
flushed　face。　　〃If　so；　spare　me；　for　it's　an　old　one。〃

〃It's　much　older　HISTORY；　Mr。　Gunn；〃　said　Uncle　Sylvester　blandly；
〃which　I　remember　from　a　boy。　　When　the　first　Flint　traded　near
Sault　Sainte　Marie；　the　Canadian　voyageurs　literally　translated　his
name　into　Pierre　a　Fusil；　and　he　went　by　that　name　always。　　But
when　the　English　superseded　the　French　in　numbers　and　language　the
name　was　literally　translated　back　again　into　'Peter　Gunn；'　which
his　descendants　bear。〃

〃A　labored　form　of　the　old　joke；〃　said　Gunn；　turning　contemptuously
away。

〃But　the　sto