The Silent House | Page 5

Greeb, evidently puzzled how to answer this leading
question, "no one can find out anything about him. He's full of secrets
and underhand goings on. It ain't respectable not to be fair and above
board--that it ain't."
"I see no reason why a quiet-living old gentleman should tell his private
affairs to the whole square," remarked Lucian drily.

"Those who have nothing bad to conceal needn't be afraid of speaking
out," retorted Miss Greeb tartly. "And the way in which Mr. Berwin
lives is enough to make one think him a coiner, or a thief, or even a
murderer--that it is!"
"But what grounds have you to believe him any one of the three?"
This question also puzzled the landlady, as she had no reasonable
grounds for her wild statements. Nevertheless, she made a determined
attempt to substantiate them by hearsay evidence. "Mr. Berwin," said
she in significant tones, "lives all alone in that haunted house."
"Why not? Every man has the right to be a misanthrope if he chooses."
"He has no right to behave so, in a respectable square," replied Miss
Greeb, shaking her head. "There's only two rooms of that large house
furnished, and all the rest is given up to dust and ghosts. Mr. Berwin
won't have a servant to live under his roof, and Mrs. Kebby, who does
his charing, says he drinks awful. Then he has his meals sent in from
the Nelson Hotel round the corner, and eats them all alone. He don't
receive no letters, he don't read no newspapers, and stays in all day,
only coming out at night, like an owl. If he ain't a criminal, Mr. Denzil,
why does he carry on so?"
"He may dislike his fellow-men, and desire to live a secluded life."
Miss Greeb still shook her head. "He may dislike his fellow-men," she
said with emphasis, "but that don't keep him from seeing them--ah! that
it don't."
"Is there anything wrong in that?" said Lucian, contemptuous of these
cobweb objections.
"Perhaps not, Mr. Denzil; but where do those he sees come from?"
"How do you mean, Miss Greeb?"
"They don't go in by the front door, that's certain," continued the little

woman darkly. "There's only one entrance to this square, sir, and
Blinders, the policeman, is frequently on duty there. Two or three
nights he's met Mr. Berwin coming in after dark and exchanged
friendly greetings with him, and each time Mr. Berwin has been alone!"
"Well! well! What of that?" said Denzil impatiently.
"This much, Mr. Denzil, that Blinders has gone round the square, after
seeing Mr. Berwin, and has seen shadows--two or three of them--on the
sitting-room blind. Now, sir," cried Miss Greeb, clinching her argument,
"if Mr. Berwin came into the square alone, how did his visitors get in?"
"Perhaps by the back," conjectured Lucian.
Again Miss Greeb shook her head. "I know the back of No. 13 as well
as I know my own face," she declared. "There's a yard and a fence, but
no entrance. To get in there you have to go in by the front door or down
the aiery steps; and you can't do neither without coming past Blinders
at the square's entrance, and that," finished Miss Greeb triumphantly,
"these visitors don't do."
"They may have come into the square during the day, when Blinders
was not on duty."
"No, sir," said Miss Greeb, ready for this objection. "I thought of that
myself, and as my duty to the square I have inquired--that I have. On
two occasions I've asked the day policeman, and he says no one
passed."
"Then," said Lucian, rather puzzled, "Mr. Berwin cannot live alone in
the house."
"Begging your pardon, I'm sure," cried the pertinacious woman, "but he
does. Mrs. Kebby has been all over the house, and there isn't another
soul in it. No, Mr. Denzil, take it what way you will, there's something
that ain't right about Mr. Berwin--if that's his real name, which I don't
believe it is."

"Why, Miss Greeb?"
"Just because I don't," replied the landlady, with feminine logic. "And
if you think of having anything to do with this mystery, Mr. Denzil, I
beg of you not to, else you may come to something as is too terrible to
consider--that you may."
"Such as--"
"Oh, I don't know," cried Miss Greeb, tossing her head and gliding
towards the door. "It ain't for me to say what I think. I am the last
person in the world to meddle with what don't concern me--that I am."
And thus ending the conversation, Miss Greeb vanished, with
significant look and pursed-up lips.
The reason of this last speech and rapid retreat lay in the fact that Miss
Greeb could bring no tangible charge against her opposite neighbour;
and therefore hinted at his