The Silent House | Page 6

complicity in all kinds of horrors, which she
was quite unable to define save in terms more or less vague.
Lucian dismissed such hints of criminality from his mind as the
outcome of Miss Greeb's very lively imagination; yet, even though he
reduced her communications to bare facts, he could not but
acknowledge that there was something queer about Mr. Berwin and his
mode of life. The man's self-pity and self-condemnation; his hints that
certain people wished to do him harm; the curious episode of the
shadows on the blind--these things engaged the curiosity of Denzil in
no ordinary degree; and he could not but admit to himself that it would
greatly ease his mind to arrive at some reasonable explanation of
Berwin's eccentricities.
Nevertheless, he held that he had no right to pry into the secrets of the
stranger, and honourably strove to dismiss the tenant of No. 13 and his
tantalising environments from his mind. But such dismissal of
unworthy curiosity was more difficult to effect than he expected.
For the next week Lucian resolutely banished the subject from his
thoughts, and declined to discuss the matter further with Miss Greeb.

That little woman, all on fire with curiosity, made various inquiries of
her gossips regarding the doings of Mr. Berwin, and in default of
reporting the same to her lodger, occupied herself in discussing them
with her neighbours. The consequence of this incessant gossip was that
the eyes of the whole square fixed themselves on No. 13 in expectation
of some catastrophe, although no one knew exactly what was going to
happen.
This undefinable feeling of impending disaster communicating itself to
Lucian, stimulated his curiosity to such a pitch that, with some feeling
of shame for his weakness, he walked round the square on two several
evenings in the hope of meeting Berwin. But on both occasions he was
unsuccessful.
On the third evening he was more fortunate, for having worked at his
law books until late at night, he went out for a brisk walk before
retiring to rest. The night was cold, and there had been a slight fall of
snow, so Lucian wrapped himself up well, lighted his pipe, and
proceeded to take the air by tramping twice or thrice round the square.
Overhead the sky was clear and frosty, with chill glittering stars and a
wintry moon. A thin covering of snow lay on the pavement, and there
was a white rime on the bare branches of the central trees.
On coming to the house of Berwin, the barrister saw that the
sitting-room was lighted up and the curtains undrawn, so that the
window presented a square of illuminated blind. Even as he looked,
two shadows darkened the white surface--the shadows of a man and a
woman. Evidently they had come between the lamp and the window,
and so, quite unknowingly, revealed their actions to the watcher.
Curious to see the end of this shadow pantomime, Lucian stood still
and looked intently at the window.
The two figures seemed to be arguing, for their heads nodded violently
and their arms waved constantly. They retreated out of the sphere of
light, and again came into it, still continuing their furious gestures.
Unexpectedly the male shadow seized the female by the throat and
swung her like a feather to and fro. The struggling figures reeled out of
the radiance and Lucian heard a faint cry.

Thinking that something was wrong, he rushed up the steps and rang
the bell violently. Almost before the sound died away the light in the
room was extinguished, and he could see nothing more. Again and
again he rang, but without attracting attention; so Lucian finally left the
house and went in search of Blinders, the policeman, to narrate his
experience. At the entrance of Geneva Square he ran against a man
whom he recognised in the clear moonlight.
To his surprise he beheld Mark Berwin.

CHAPTER III
AN UNSATISFACTORY EXPLANATION
"Mr. Berwin!" cried Lucian, recognising the man. "Is it you?"
"Who else should it be?" replied Berwin, bending forward to see who
had jostled him. "Who else should it be, Mr. Denzil?"
"But I thought--I thought," said the barrister, unable to conceal his
surprise, "that is, I fancied you were indoors."
"Your fancy was wrong, you see. I am not indoors."
"Then who is in your house?"
Berwin shrugged his shoulders. "No one, so far as I know."
"You are mistaken, sir. There was a light in your room, and I saw the
shadows of a man and a woman struggling together thrown on the
blind."
"People in my house!" said Berwin, laying a shaking hand on the arm
of Lucian. "Impossible!"
"I tell you it is so!"

"Come, then, and we will look for them," said Berwin in a tremulous