The Deep Lake Mystery

“You said there were three,” Moore said, quietly, “go on, please.”

“The last is the strangest of all,” Posy said, with a tense calm, quite like Keeley’s own. “Daisy Dodd told me, and she’s a most reliable person. I’d trust Daisy to tell the truth about anything! Well, she was out in her canoe, one afternoon, late, you know, about dusk, and she saw Alma come out through that gap in the trees, and stand on the edge of the lake. It’s awful deep there, and there’s quite a high bank. Well, Alma stood on the bank, and all of a sudden she put up her hands, and splash! – she dove in! Daisy was scared to death, it was so deep and all, but Alma came right up, and swam off a few strokes and then she swam back to shore, and scrambled up the bank, all dripping wet.”

“Had she on a bathing suit?”

“No, that’s just it. She had on her everyday clothes, one of those sports suits she ’most always wears, and she came out of the water, like a drowned rat, and then stood, looking at herself as if surprised she should have done what she did.”

“Was the nurse on the scene that time?”

“Daisy said, she rowed on then, but as she was nearly past, she heard somebody cry out, ‘Oh, Miss Alma, what have you been up to?’”

“Well, Posy, is that all?”

“Yes, Mr. Moore, and you can depend on it all as being true, at least so far as I know. And I know those girls would never make up those yarns, there’d be no sense in that, would there?”

“No, I can’t see that there would,” Keeley said, speaking absent-mindedly as if his thoughts were on the stories he had just heard.

“Posy, you’re a good girl,” Lora said, feeling, I was sure, that somebody ought to give the girl the applause she had earned. “But you’re going to keep those things secret for us, aren’t you?”

“Yes’m, I’m going to do just what you and Mr. Moore tell me. For I’ve made up my mind. I’ve found myself and I’m going to make detective work my vocation. I think I have a decided talent for it, and I am sure – ”

“Well, Posy,” Keeley said, suddenly waking up, “if you want to be a detective one of the first things to learn is to keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve just promised Mrs. Moore not to say a word until you say I may.”

“That’s a good girl. Now if that finishes your report, I’ll excuse you for to-day. I have to act upon your information, you know. You feel sure, don’t you, that these episodes happened just as you’ve narrated them?”

“Yes, I do. I know those girls, and what they say they saw, they saw. Daisy said she thought Alma was a little lacking, but the others didn’t say that, they only thought she had a fierce temper that broke out suddenly sometimes.”

“Either of those things may be true, but don’t think about it. Run off now, and play with your sheik. And forget all about this case unless you get some further knowledge that is both true and important. But, remember, not a word of it to any one – not any one at all!”

“See my finger wet, see my finger dry, see my finger cut my throat if I tell a lie,” said the girl, in a singsong tone, and with accompanying dramatic gestures of fearful histrionic fervour.

Then she ran away, and we sat and looked at one another.

“The problem seems to be solved,” I said.

“Seems to be,” Moore returned, and something in his voice gave me a grain of hope. I don’t know what it was, it was not really encouragement, but I knew he had a ray of light from somewhere, and I had to be content with that.

“You believe all Posy said, don’t you, Kee?” Lora asked.

“Yes, I do. Those youngsters aren’t going to make up such things, and I know that gap in the line of trees, I’ve often looked in there but I never had the luck to see any drama enacted.”

“Why do they have that break when they seem so anxious for utter concealment?” Maud inquired.

“Maybe the servants cut it for convenience in taking in parcels, or to look for their sweethearts,” Kee surmised. “Oh perhaps it just happened that a couple of trees died and haven’t yet been replaced. I say, Gray, why don’t you go over to see Alma?”

I nearly fell off my chair at this, and my heart bounded at the idea. Then, I thought what it might mean, and I said, bitterly:

“To spy on her, and come home and tell you what I’ve ferreted out?”

“I feared you’d say something like that,” he returned, gently. “But while you can do that or not, as you choose, I tell you honestly, I had only your own interest at heart When I suggested it.”

“Then I’ll go,” I said, heartily, knowing Kee incapable of insincerity.

“What are you going to give as a reason for calling?” Lora asked, smiling kindly at me.

“The truth,” I said, smiling back, and in a few moments I was off.

I jumped into a rowboat, a canoe was not such a familiar craft to me as to the others, and I rowed away to the island house.

The dour boathouse keeper met me, and after a mere word of greeting I hurried up the path to the house.

Merry herself answered my ring, and at first she looked stern and unapproachable. “Miss Alma is seeing nobody, sir,” she informed me. “She is lying down just now.”

“Won’t you ask her if she couldn’t give me a few minutes? I’m not here on business of any sort, I’m just making a social call, and perhaps I can cheer her up.”

I had unwittingly struck the right note, for Merry smiled a little, though the tears came into her eyes, too, and she gave me a long look as she said, “sit on the porch, please, sir, and I’ll ask Miss Alma.”

I sat down, and there, in that strange, eerie stillness, in that quiet, mysterious atmosphere, I vowed my life to Alma Remsen, I consecrated my heart and soul to my darling, and I determined to save her from this cloud that seemed to hang over her.

To be sure, my ideas of this salvation and indeed of the cloud itself were a trifle vague, but both mind and soul were full of her and her dearness, and at a light step behind me I turned to see her coming toward me across the verandah.

All in white, her golden curls a little tumbled, and her big, beautiful eyes a little heavy with trouble and sadness, she came, her two hands outstretched as if asking my aid.

I rose slowly, as she slowly advanced, and it seemed to me that as she traversed those few feet across the porch and as I awaited her, we asked and answered all the necessary questions, and when at last I held her two dear hands in mine, I drew her nearer into my arms and clasped her to me.

She made no resistance, she did not hold back or repulse me, but lay against my breast like a tired child, finding haven at last.

I held her so, soothing her a bit, and caressing her golden head, but saying no word lest I startle her.

In a moment, she lifted her head, her eyes gazed into mine and all the woe and sorrow came back into them.

“No, dear,” I said, “no, don’t look like that. Look happy – ”

“Happy!” she said, with an awful intonation.

“Yes,” I said, “like this!” and I kissed her.

CHAPTER XVIII

ALL RIGHT AT LAST

It was just after I had given Alma that first kiss, and had realized that she was not offended by my daring, that Merry came to the house door, crying out, “Come, Miss Alma, come quickly!” and with an agonized look, Alma begged me to go at once, and she herself ran into the house.

Then John Merivale came out and controlling his agitation with an effort, he said, “If you please, sir, Miss Remsen asks that you go home now. She cannot see you again and she will send you some word later on.”

“Tell me what’s the trouble, Merivale,” I urged. “I am a friend of Miss Alma, more than a friend, indeed.”