Not only in the plaster, but through the lathing, the aperture

extended. I reached into the opening, and three feet away, perhaps, I

could touch the bricks of the partition wall. For some reason, the

architect, in building the house, had left a space there that struck

me, even in the surprise of the discovery, as an excellent place for a

conflagration to gain headway.

"You are sure the hole was not here yesterday?" I asked Liddy, whose

expression was a mixture of satisfaction and alarm. In answer she

pointed to the new cook's trunk--that necessary adjunct of the

migratory domestic. The top was covered with fine white plaster, as

was the floor. But there were no large pieces of mortar lying

around--no bits of lathing. When I mentioned this to Liddy she merely

raised her eyebrows. Being quite confident that the gap was of unholy

origin, she did not concern herself with such trifles as a bit of

mortar and lath. No doubt they were even then heaped neatly on a

gravestone in the Casanova churchyard!

I brought Mr. Jamieson up to see the hole in the wall, directly after

breakfast. His expression was very odd when he looked at it, and the

first thing he did was to try to discover what object, if any, such a

hole could have. He got a piece of candle, and by enlarging the

aperture a little was able to examine what lay beyond. The result was

nil. The trunk-room, although heated by steam heat, like the rest of

the house, boasted of a fireplace and mantel as well. The opening had

been made between the flue and the outer wall of the house. There was

revealed, however, on inspection, only the brick of the chimney on one

side and the outer wall of the house on the other; in depth the space

extended only to the flooring. The breach had been made about four

feet from the floor, and inside were all the missing bits of plaster.

It had been a methodical ghost.

It was very much of a disappointment. I had expected a secret room, at

the very least, and I think even Mr. Jamieson had fancied he might at

last have a clue to the mystery. There was evidently nothing more to

be discovered: Liddy reported that everything was serene among the

servants, and that none of them had been disturbed by the noise. The

maddening thing, however, was that the nightly visitor had evidently

more than one way of gaining access to the house, and we made

arrangements to redouble our vigilance as to windows and doors that

night.

Halsey was inclined to pooh-pooh the whole affair. He said a break in

the plaster might have occurred months ago and gone unnoticed, and that

the dust had probably been stirred up the day before. After all, we

had to let it go at that, but we put in an uncomfortable Sunday.

Gertrude went to church, and Halsey took a long walk in the morning.

Louise was able to sit up, and she allowed Halsey and Liddy to assist

her down-stairs late in the afternoon. The east veranda was shady,

green with vines and palms, cheerful with cushions and lounging chairs.

We put Louise in a steamer chair, and she sat there passively enough,

her hands clasped in her lap.




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