Prev | Current Page 514 | Next

Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"


She was evidently startled in some way on finding herself awake again,
or perhaps from having fallen so soundly asleep in hands like mine, for
she called aloud first for "Dinah," then, repeatedly, on "Miriam," both
without effect. In a few moments after these appeals had died away she
came in person, as I knew she would, to reconnoitre.
The bedstead had been pushed carefully and noiselessly back again on its
grooved castors against the door, from the lock of which the wooden key
had been removed, rewashed in oil, and hidden away in that hollow
aperture in the bedstead, which formed a perfect box, by the skillful
readjustment of one loosened compartment of the veneering of the massive
post.
She shook me slightly, and I rose in my bed with a start and shudder,
admirably simulated, I fancied, and which completely deceived her
evidently. "I am sorry to have startled you so," she said, hurriedly,
"but where is Dinah, Miss Monfort, and how did she get out?"
"I really cannot inform you where she is," I answered, petulantly. "I
scarcely think it was worth while to disturb me for the sake of asking
me a question you must have known my inability to answer."
"But how did she get out, Miss Harz?"
"By means of the key under your head, which you will find in the lock,
no doubt, where it was left. She promised me, insolently enough, to
bolt the door outside to prevent egress, and I, to prevent ingress,
locked it within.


Pages:
502 503 504 505 506 507 508 509 510 511 512 513 514 515 516 517 518 519 520 521 522 523 524 525 526