The Balcony by Dorothy Cameron Disney

Author:Dorothy Cameron Disney [Disney, Dorothy Cameron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-21T04:00:00+00:00

XVII

EXHAUSTED BY THE DAY’S EVENTS, determined not to think about the so-different picture of John S. Hieronomo, about Patience and the family, determined not to think about Dan Ayres, not to ponder, to worry or to wonder, I went instantly to sleep. Except for the draught from the window, I would have slept the whole night through. Long before I managed to struggle awake, I knew that I was freezing. Cramped and chilled, still half asleep, I groped hopelessly in space for an extra and non-existent blanket. Suddenly, I was wide awake.

A light was shining in my eyes. Dazed, I sat up. The bedroom was entirely dark. I could hear my great-aunt’s heavy breathing. The luminous hands of the little traveling clock presented by her students glowed at ten past three. Where was the light?

I had turned my back to the window, through which seeped the freezing air. Puzzled, knees hunched to my chest, I turned again. The light, a moving light, was on the ground, below, and far away. Again the distant light—it must have been somewhere in the winter garden—caught a certain angle, and a wavering yellow beam climbed upward and through the window.

I thought at first that Glick must be on the grounds, or that one of his deputies was on patrol. I started to lie down again, to roll into a wretched little ball. I had no intention now of getting out of bed to seek that extra blanket. And then I thought of something. The policemen used flashlights at their work.

The flickering, uncertain light below was very yellow. It swung to and fro. It was lantern light. And it was no longer in the winter garden. The light was very near the barn.

I fumbled into a dressing gown and was out of bed and in the hall before I stopped to think. The inky blackness there gave me pause, I must confess. Stubbornly I forced myself ahead. I had to solve the mystery of the flickering lantern, find out who was so near the barn and why. Or so I argued, as I sought to hold that first false rush of courage.

I failed to locate the upper switch. In darkness, I felt my way toward the stairs and started down. My teeth were chattering from chill and nerves; my resolution was going fast. The house was wrapped in slumber, completely still.

The foyer below was black. With a gasp of relief, I found the electric switch. The bulb was small, however, and threw a meager light. The drawing room, illumined only faintly, had the empty look that comes at night when a household is abed. The dining room was still and ghostly. Beyond the dining room lay the dark regions of the kitchen, and beyond the darkness of the kitchen, stretched the darkness of the night. I knew then that the barn was much too far, that I could never make it there. The expedition had been folly from the first.

I took a last look around,

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