ARCH called in at Variable Winds on his way to the Tracy funeral. We were all ready to go, for though none of us wanted to, it was a matter of convention and the whole village would have commented unkindly had we stayed away.
I, especially, dreaded it, for I dislike funerals, and I hated the thought of the entire community sitting up there, casting glances at Alma and making whispered remarks about her.
But I had to go, so I made the best of it, and, garbed in appropriate black, I sat with the others awaiting the time to start.
March came in, looking harassed and worn.
“It’s all too dreadful,” he said, sinking into a chair. “Everything seems to point to Alma Remsen, yet I am not convinced of her guilt.”
I started to speak, but thought better of it. Since March held that opinion nothing I could say would help any. I’d better keep still.
“I’m going to the funeral,” March went on, “because it’s wiser to show myself there. But I shall slip out, during the service, and go over to the island house. How about going with me, Mr. Norris?”
“What for?” I asked, a little suspicious of his motives.
“Partly to help along by corroborating anything I may learn or discover and partly that you may tell Mr. Moore all about it later, and save me that much work. I’ve none too much time for what I have to do.”
“Go ahead, Gray,” Keeley said. “I can’t leave the funeral, of course, but your absence will not be noticed. As neighbours, we must show proper respect, but our guests may be excused.”
“Very well, then, I’ll go,” I told March. For I felt I’d rather know exactly what he found out and so know what steps to take myself.
I was formulating in my mind a course of procedure that I hoped might free Alma from these monstrous and false suspicions.
“I’ll go,” I repeated, “but not because I foresee any new evidence against Miss Remsen. It’s too absurd to suspect her.”
“It’s too absurd not to,” March said. “The evidence is piling up. The fingerprints and footsteps and the maid’s story of seeing her that night all seem to prove she was there at the fatal hour. The strange decorations on the deathbed look like the work of a diseased mind. Posy May’s story seems to prove that Miss Remsen is afflicted with some sort of spells that transform her into a demoniac. Then, add the details of the waistcoats and Totem Pole, the fact that she is an expert swimmer and the strong motive of the approaching loss of her uncle’s
“You’re going too fast, Mr. March,” I interrupted him. “Posy May’s story should not be taken without some outside corroboration. She is an irresponsible child, and not fit to be a real witness. The maid, Jennie, I think, comes in the same category. I, for one, am unwilling to admit Miss Remsen the victim of any sort of malady or disease until we have a doctor’s opinion on that subject. It seems to me this is only fair to the young lady.”
“Norris is right about that,” Keeley agreed with me. “Keep these developments quiet for another twenty-four hours, March. No good can come from exploiting them.”
“No, and I don’t mean to. But no harm can come of going over to the Remsen house, even if it does no good.”
“All right as to that. Go ahead. Go with him, Gray, and keep your eyes and ears open. The two Merivales will probably be at the funeral, but there’ll doubtless be some one in charge of the place.”
It was time to start then, and we walked sedately out to the car, our funeral manner already upon us.
The two Moores and Maud went up toward the front seats, while March and I took seats in the back of the room.
The services were held at Pleasure Dome, in the great ballroom that was beneath the rooms of Sampson Tracy’s suite.
I looked out the window at the deep, dark lake. Sunless Sea was an apt name for it, as the trees grew thickly right down to the very edge of the water, and the great house also shaded it. A sombre-looking scene, yet of a certain still peacefulness that had its own appeal.
Here and there a rock lifted its jagged form up out of the water, but I realized that if a diver or swimmer were familiar with the place, he could easily avoid danger.
My heart was sick at the black clouds that seemed to be closing in round the girl I loved, and I resolved anew to devote my whole heart and soul to the task of setting her free.