CHAPTER XVIII

BEGINNING EXPLORATION

This apparently convincing evidence that Henley was not only alive, but had preceded us to Carrollton, left us staring into each others’ faces, more deeply mystified than ever.

“He must be here,” she articulated faintly.

“At least it would seem that he has been.  The seal is a peculiar one, not likely to be duplicated.  But I doubt if he is here now, for he could have no reason for avoiding us, unless—­”

“I know what you mean,” she replied, as I hesitated, “unless he intended to repudiate me, to refuse me recognition.”

“Is he that kind of a man?”

“No; not when sober.  Under the influence of liquor he becomes a brute, capable of any meanness.”

“Perhaps that may be the secret then.  The others here may be keeping him intoxicated, and hidden away for purposes of their own.  However, this need not change our plans.  Will you go in to Sallie?”

“Yes; it will be a relief to be busy, to feel that I am accomplishing something.”

I stood upon the bench, from where I could look out above the weeds and tangled bushes, and followed her course to the house.  At top of the steps she paused an instant to glance back, and then disappeared within.  I waited patiently, knowing that if she failed to discover the housekeeper, she would give some signal.  Meanwhile I watched the weed-grown area about me carefully in search of any skulker observing our movements.  I could see little through the tangle, yet succeeded in convincing myself that I was alone, and free to begin my explorations.  Yet I faced this work with less enthusiasm than I felt when first proposing it.  The knowledge that Philip Henley was alive; that any discoveries I might make would benefit him even more than his wife, had robbed me of my earlier interest in the outcome.  Nothing I had heard of the man was favorable to his character.  I felt profoundly convinced that whatever affection his wife might have once entertained for him had long ago vanished through neglect and abuse.  My sympathies were altogether with her, and I had already begun to dream of her as free.  She had come into contact with my life in such a way as to impress me greatly; we had been thrown together in strange familiarity.  Little by little I had grown to appreciate her beauty, not only of face, but also of womanly character.  Already she swayed and controlled me as no other of her sex ever had.  I thrilled to the touch of her hand, to the sweep of her dress, and the glance of her eye.  Not until now did I realize fully all she had unconsciously become to me, or how I dreaded the reappearance of Henley.  Would she return to him?  Would she forgive the past?  These were haunting questions from which I found no escape.  I could not be ignorant of the fact that she liked me, trusted me as a friend.  But beyond this rather colorless