The Case of Jennie Brice | Page 4

been in the house, Mrs. Pitman," he said. "They went
away just now in the boat."
"Perhaps it was Peter," I suggested. "That dog is always wandering
around at night."

"Not unless Peter can row a boat," said Mr. Reynolds dryly.
I got up, being already fully dressed, and taking the candle, we went to
the staircase. I noticed that it was a minute or so after two o'clock as we
left the room. The boat was gone, not untied, but cut loose. The end of
the rope was still fastened to the stair-rail. I sat down on the stairs and
looked at Mr. Reynolds.
"It's gone!" I said. "If the house catches fire, we'll have to drown."
"It's rather curious, when you consider it." We both spoke softly, not to
disturb the Ladleys. "I've been awake, and I heard no boat come in.
And yet, if no one came in a boat, and came from the street, they would
have had to swim in."
I felt queer and creepy. The street door was open, of course, and the
lights going beyond. It gave me a strange feeling to sit there in the
darkness on the stairs, with the arch of the front door like the entrance
to a cavern, and see now and then a chunk of ice slide into view, turn
around in the eddy, and pass on. It was bitter cold, too, and the wind
was rising.
"I'll go through the house," said Mr. Reynolds. "There's likely nothing
worse the matter than some drunken mill-hand on a vacation while the
mills are under water. But I'd better look."
He left me, and I sat there alone in the darkness. I had a presentiment of
something wrong, but I tried to think it was only discomfort and the
cold. The water, driven in by the wind, swirled at my feet. And
something dark floated in and lodged on the step below. I reached
down and touched it. It was a dead kitten. I had never known a dead cat
to bring me anything but bad luck, and here was one washed in at my
very feet.
Mr. Reynolds came back soon, and reported the house quiet and in
order.
"But I found Peter shut up in one of the third-floor rooms," he said.

"Did you put him there?"
I had not, and said so; but as the dog went everywhere, and the door
might have blown shut, we did not attach much importance to that at
the time.
Well, the skiff was gone, and there was no use worrying about it until
morning. I went back to the sofa to keep warm, but I left my candle
lighted and my door open. I did not sleep: the dead cat was on my mind,
and, as if it were not bad enough to have it washed in at my feet, about
four in the morning Peter, prowling uneasily, discovered it and brought
it in and put it on my couch, wet and stiff, poor little thing!
I looked at the clock. It was a quarter after four, and except for the
occasional crunch of one ice-cake hitting another in the yard,
everything was quiet. And then I heard the stealthy sound of oars in the
lower hall.
I am not a brave woman. I lay there, hoping Mr. Reynolds would hear
and open his door. But he was sleeping soundly. Peter snarled and ran
out into the hall, and the next moment I heard Mr. Ladley speaking.
"Down, Peter," he said. "Down. Go and lie down."
I took my candle and went out into the hall. Mr. Ladley was stooping
over the boat, trying to tie it to the staircase. The rope was short, having
been cut, and he was having trouble. Perhaps it was the candle-light,
but he looked ghost-white and haggard.
"I borrowed your boat, Mrs. Pitman," he said, civilly enough. "Mrs.
Ladley was not well, and I--I went to the drug store."
"You've been more than two hours going to the drug store," I said.
He muttered something about not finding any open at first, and went
into his room. He closed and locked the door behind him, and although
Peter whined and scratched, he did not let him in.
He looked so agitated that I thought I had been harsh, and that perhaps

she was really ill. I knocked at the door, and asked if I could do
anything. But he only called "No" curtly through the door, and asked
me to take that infernal dog away.
I went back to bed and tried to sleep, for the water had dropped an inch
or so on the stairs, and I knew the danger was over. Peter came,
shivering, at dawn, and got on to the sofa with me.